Julius Caesar Dictionary

All Things
Julius Caesar
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All Things
Julius Caesar
An Encyclopedia of
Caesar’s World and Legacy
Volume 1
Michael Lovano
Copyright © 2015 by ABC-CLIO, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, except for the inclusion of brief quotations
in a review, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lovano, Michael.
All things Julius Caesar : an encyclopedia of Caesar’s world and
legacy / Michael Lovano.
pages cm
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-4408-0420-5 (hard copy : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-1-4408-0421-2 (ebook)
1. Caesar, Julius—Encyclopedias. 2. Rome—History—Republic, 265–30 B.C.—
Encyclopedias. I. Title.
DG261.L67 2015
937.05092—dc23 2014014519
ISBN: 978-1-4408-0420-5
EISBN: 978-1-4408-0421-2
19 18 17 16 15 1 2 3 4 5
This book is also available on the World Wide Web as an eBook.
Visit www.abc-clio.com for details.
Greenwood
An Imprint of ABC-CLIO, LLC
ABC-CLIO, LLC
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Santa Barbara, California 93116-1911
This book is printed on acid-free paper
Manufactured in the United States of America
I wish to dedicate this book to two women
of great significance in the story of my life:
To my mom, Biagina Lovano, because I don’t know

what I would do without her. She is always there for me
with her love, encouragement, and support, no matter what.
And to our very dearest friend, Avis Rawlings,

who was like a second mother to me for nearly forty
years and whom we deeply miss. We remember her
tremendous faith, determination, and optimism in our
dark times and draw strength from her example.
Contents
Volume 1
Alphabetical List of Entries ix
Guide to Related Topics xv
Preface xix
Introduction xxi
Chronology xxix
Maps xxxviii
Genealogy of Julius Caesar xli
All Things Julius Caesar A–L 1–506

Volume 2

Contents
All Things Julius Caesar M–V 507–888

Primary Documents 889
Select Bibliography 903
Index 919
viii
Alphabetical List of Entries
VOLUME 1 Ariovistus
Adriatic Sea Arms and Armor
Aedui Army
Aeneas Artistic Depictions of Caesar
Aeneid (Virgil) Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE)
Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE)
Agriculture
Aurelia/Aurelian Family
Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE)
Alexander the Great
(356–323 BCE) Balbus
Alexandria Basilica Julia
Alexandrian War Belgae
(Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE) Bellum Civile (Caesar)
Ambiorix Bellum Gallicum (Caesar)
Ambitus/Bribery Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
American Caesar: Douglas Bona Dea
McArthur (Manchester) Britain
(Book 1978/Documentary Brundisium
1983) Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE)
Antony/Antonius, Marcus
(ca. 83–30 BCE) Caesar I–IV (Computer Games
Apollonius of Rhodes 1993–2006)
Caesarion (47–30 BCE) Curia

Calendar Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Calpurnia
Camps Dacians
Campus Martius Dante’s The Divine Comedy
Capitoline Hill Debt Laws/Loans
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE) Dictator
Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE) Dignitas
Cato (95–46 BCE) Divus Iulius
Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE) Domitius Ahenobarbus
Catulus the Younger (d. 48 BCE)
(d. ca. 61 BCE) Dreams/Dream Interpretation
Census Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE)
Centurions
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE) Education
Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE) Egypt
Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE) Egyptians
Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE) Elections
Citizenship Epilepsy
Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE) Equites
Cleopatra (Film 1963) Eulogies/Imagines
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE) Exile
Clothing Extraordinary Commands
Coinage/Money
Collegia Festivals
Colonies Food and Drink
Congiaria Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris
Conspiracy of 65 BCE Forum Romanum
Conspiracy of the Liberators
(44 BCE) Games
Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE) Gangs
Cornelia (d. 69 BCE) Gardens
Coronae Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina
Courts Gaul Transalpine/Gallia
Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE) Transalpina
Cremation Gaul/Gallia Comata
Crossing the Rubicon Germans
Crucifixion Gloria/Glory
x
Haruspicy Marius (ca. 157–86 BCE)

HBO’s Rome (2005–2007) Marriage/Divorce
Helvetii Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE)
Homosexuality Masters of Rome (McCullough)
Honor (Books 1990–2007)
Hostis Mediterranean Sea
Memoirs
Ides of March Military Discipline
Illyricum Milo (d. 48 BCE)
Impeachment Mithradates VI (ca. 134–63 BCE)
Imperator Mourning/Funerals
Munda, Battle of (45 BCE)
Jews
Juba (d. 46 BCE) Names
Julia (d. 54 BCE) Navy/Ships
Nicomedes (d. 75/74 BCE)
Labienus (d. 45 BCE)
Land Reform Ocean
Legal Profession Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE)
Legions Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE)
Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE)
Omens
Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE)
Oppius and Hirtius
Letters
Optimates
Libertas/Dominatio
Oratory
Library of Alexandria
Libya/Numidia
Parthia
Lictors/Fasces
Patricians
Luca
Patrons and Clients
Lucan’s Pharsalia
Pharnaces (d. 47 BCE)
Lucullus (118–57 BCE)
Pharsalus, Battle of
Lupercalia
(48 BCE)
Lustrations
Piracy
Plebs
VOLUME 2 Plutarch’s Lives
Machiavelli’s The Prince Pompeia/“Caesar’s Wife”
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Marcellus Cousins Pontifex Maximus
xi
Popular Assemblies Taxation/Tax Farming

Populares Temple of Castor and
Prison Pollux
Propaganda Tenth Legion
Proscriptions Thapsus, Battle of
Provinces (46 BCE)
Ptolemy XII Auletes Theater of Pompey
(d. 51 BCE) Thessaly
Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE) Trade
Public Works Transpadane Gauls
Treasury
Recreation Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)
Regia Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE)
Religion, Roman Triumphs/Trophies
Rex Triumvirate
Sacrifices Utica
Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE)
Senate Vatinius
Senatus Consultum Ultimum Venus Genetrix
(SCU) Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE) Vestal Virgins
Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE)
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar
PRIMARY DOCUMENTS
(Original Play and Film
Versions 1953, 1970) Suetonius on Caesar’s Ancestry
Siegecraft and Aspirations
Slavery/Slaves Caesar’s Response to the
Spain Conspiracy of Catiline
(63 BCE)
Spartacus (Film 1960)
Cassius Dio Describes Julius
Standards
Caesar’s First Invasion of
Subura Britain (55 BCE)
Suebi Cicero’s Affection for
Suetonius (ca.70–ca. Caesar (September 28, 54
130 CE) BCE)
Suicide Julius Caesar on the True
Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE) Causes of the Civil War
Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE) (49 BCE)
xii
Cassius Dio Describes Pompey’s The Reaction of Octavian

Behavior at the Start of the and His Family to Caesar’s
Civil War (49 BCE) Assassination (44 BCE) in
A Letter from Caesar Regarding Nicolaus of Damascus’s Life of
His Campaign of “Kindness Augustus
and Generosity” (ca. March 10, Cicero Comments to Atticus on
49 BCE) the Fallout from
Appian Describes the Key Battle Caesar’s Murder (April 7,
of Pharsalus (48 BCE) 44 BCE)
Julius Caesar before and after the Suetonius on the Vengeance of
Battle of Pharsalus (48 BCE) Octavian-Augustus
xiii
Guide to Related Topics
Documents/Media Events
Aeneid Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE)
American Caesar: Douglas Alexandrian War (Fall 48
McArthur (Book 1978/ BCE–Spring 47 BCE)
Documentary 1983) Conspiracy of 65 BCE
Bellum Civile (Caesar) Conspiracy of the Liberators
Bellum Gallicum (Caesar) (44 BCE)
Caesar I–IV (Computer Games Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE)
1993–2006) Crossing the Rubicon
Cleopatra (Film 1963) Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE)
Dante’s The Divine Comedy Ides of March
HBO’s Rome (2005–2007) Lupercalia
Lucan’s Pharsalia Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE)
Machiavelli’s The Prince Munda, Battle of (45 BCE)
Masters of Rome (Books Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE)
1990–2007) Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE)
Plutarch’s Lives Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE)
(Original Play and Film Groups/Peoples
Versions 1953, 1970) Aedui
Spartacus (Film 1960) Army
Belgae Dignitas
Centurions Divus Iulius
Collegia Dreams/Dream Interpretation
Dacians Education
Egyptians Elections
Equites Epilepsy
Gangs Eulogies/Imagines
Germans Exile
Helvetii Extraordinary Commands
Jews Festivals
Legions Games
Lictors/Fasces Gloria/Glory
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum Haruspicy
Optimates Homosexuality
Patricians Honor
Patrons and Clients Hostis
Plebs Impeachment
Populares Imperator
Senate Land Reform
Slavery/Slaves Legal Profession
Suebi Libertas/Dominatio
Tenth Legion Lustrations
Transpadane Gauls Marriage/Divorce
Triumvirate Military Discipline
Vestal Virgins Mourning/Funerals
Names
Ideas/Institutions/Customs Navy/Ships
Agriculture Omens
Ambitus/Bribery Oratory
Calendar Piracy
Census Pontifex Maximus
Citizenship Popular Assemblies
Congiaria Prison
Courts Propaganda
Cremation Proscriptions
Crucifixion Provinces
Debt Laws/Loans Public Works
Dictator Recreation
xvi
Religion, Roman Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE)

Rex Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43
Sacrifices BCE)
Senatus Consultum Ultimum Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE)

(SCU) Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE)
Siegecraft Cornelia (d. 69 BCE)
Suicide Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE)
Taxation/Tax Farming Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Trade Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48
Treasury BCE)
Triumphs/Trophies Juba (d. 46 BCE)

Julia (d. 54 BCE)
Individuals
Aeneas
Lepidus the Triumvir
Alexander the Great (d. 12 BCE)
(356–323 BCE)
Ambiorix
Marcellus Cousins
Marius (ca.157–86 BCE)
(ca. 83–30 BCE)
Milo (d. 48 BCE)
Apollonius of Rhodes
Mithradates VI (ca. 134–63 BCE)
Ariovistus
Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE) Nicomedes (d. 75/74 BCE)
Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE) Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE)
Aurelia/Aurelian Family Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE)
Balbus
Oppius and Hirtius
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
Bona Dea
Pompeia/“Caesar’s Wife”
Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE)
Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Caesarion (47–30 BCE)
Calpurnia Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE)
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE) Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE)
Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE) Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE)
Cato (95–46 BCE) Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE)
Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE) Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE)
Catulus the Younger Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE)
(d. ca. 61 BCE) Sulla (c. 138–78 BCE)
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE) Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE)
Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE) Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)
xvii
Vatinius Places
Venus Genetrix Countries
Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE) Britain
Egypt
Objects/Things Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina
Arms and Armor Gaul Transalpine/Gallia
Artistic Depictions of Caesar Transalpina
Clothing Gaul/Gallia Comata
Coinage/Money Illyricum
Coronae Libya/Numidia
Food and Drink Parthia
Letters Spain
Memoirs
Standards Geographic Features
Adriatic Sea
Structures Mediterranean Sea
Basilica Julia Ocean
Camps Thessaly
Colonies
Curia Locations
Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris Alexandria
Forum Romanum Brundisium
Gardens Campus Martius
Library of Alexandria Capitoline Hill
Regia Luca
Temple of Castor and Pollux Subura
Theater of Pompey Utica
xviii
Preface
All Things Julius Caesar: An Encyclopedia of Caesar’s World and Legacy fo-
cuses on the lifetime of Rome’s most famous statesman and general. The
work also includes material to illustrate the origins of Caesar’s context and
material from after Caesar’s time to demonstrate his lasting impact on later
generations of Romans, medieval and Renaissance Europeans, and modern
people the world over. This impact includes the popularized image of Cae-
sar in theatrical interpretations, historical fiction, television programs, com-
puter games, and movies, up to the present time. The work’s geographical
scope ranges across the territories of the Roman world as Caesar knew it,
from Britain to North Africa, from Gaul to Egypt.
The encyclopedia consists of two volumes in which 213 alphabetically
arranged, thematic entries open many separate windows onto Caesar’s life
and influence. The “Guide to Related Topics” lists entries topically, so that
a reader can find related entries and trace broad themes quickly and eas-
ily. As for the entries themselves, some illustrate individuals that Caesar
knew, loved, worked with, or fought against (e.g., Marc Antony, Cato,
and Julia), and some illustrate places (e.g., Gaul and Spain) or locations
in Rome (e.g., the Forum or the Capitoline Hill) with importance in Cae-
sar’s career. Other entries explain key events (e.g., elections in Rome or the
Battle of Pharsalus). Defining social and cultural institutions of Rome (e.g.,
citizenship, marriage, and triumphal celebrations) and ideas (e.g., honor)
and objects (e.g., the fasces) are also explored.
Besides the entries themselves, both volumes contain sidebars and Vol-
ume 2 contains examples of ancient documents (primary sources, to use
Preface
the historian’s term); the sidebars consist of a range of fascinating factoids,

while the documents allow one to read the very words of Caesar and of
others who wrote to him or about him centuries ago. Entries contain ref-
erences for further reading, while the second volume contains a bibliogra-
phy of selected resources. There is also a chronological timeline, a family
tree, and an introductory essay in the first volume, all designed to help the
reader orient himself or herself to the world of Caesar and maps and images
in both volumes, intended to bring that world visually to life.
All Things Julius Caesar has been constructed and written with accessi-
bility to general readers, high school students, and college undergraduates
in mind. Wherever specialized language does appear, appropriate explana-
tion precedes or follows. The aim of the encyclopedia is to provide help to
those who wish to focus their attention on, and attain a greater grasp of,
particular topics or themes with relevance to Caesar. This makes the work
an especially useful information resource. As an instructor in higher educa-
tion myself, having taught at institutions over the past two decades ranging
from the large, research university to the small, liberal arts college, and as
a scholar in the field of Roman history, I can attest that there is no similar
reference work on the market today.
xx
Introduction
On July 13, 100 BCE, Caesar was born, the youngest of three children, to
C. Julius Caesar and Aurelia Cotta. His was a world in which the old tra-
ditions of the Republic (a term that refers inseparably to the Roman social
structure, its customary values and to the Roman form of government it-
self) had undergone serious challenges in recent memory. Radical reformers
from very prominent families had disobeyed and circumvented the Senate,
the central organ of society and politics in Rome, on behalf, they said, of
disgruntled citizens from the lowest soldier to the highest businessman. All
these citizens had seen their legitimate grievances ignored by Roman politi-
cians, who, among themselves, enjoyed the spoils of the empire and refused
to share them fairly with anyone else. The flagrant disregard of political cus-
toms and proper channels of authority by such reformers led them to suffer
violent deaths, even at the hands of fellow senators. Another threat to tra-
ditions of the Republic came in the person of Caesar’s own uncle by mar-
riage, C. Marius, who received one extraordinary military command after
another. Marius also repeatedly attained the highest political office, thanks
to charisma, talent, and enormous popularity across Roman social classes,
especially among the poor, landless thousands who crowded the city of
Rome and eagerly joined Marius’s armies for glory and profit. For a while,
Marius dwarfed his senatorial comrades as a hero of the Republic, some-
thing that did not sit well in an elite that prided itself on carefully balanced
competition and a certain level of parity.
These challenges early on in the period of the so-called Late Republic
(133–27 BCE) constituted only the tip of the iceberg. When Julius Caesar
Introduction
was in his early teens, the non-Roman populations of Italy, long allies of the
empire, rebelled against that alliance (91–87 BCE); they especially felt their
demands for equal citizenship with Romans dismissed out of hand by the
Senate. The hideous conflict ended in Roman victory, with some impor-
tant concessions to the allies, but it had caused much destruction and death
across Italy, and a more callous attitude toward fighting former comrades-
in-arms.
While still in the midst of this “Social War,” Rome experienced its first
period of Civil War (88–87, 83–82 BCE), waged not only over the issue of
citizenship still but also over the competing ambitions of leading Roman
politicians and generals. Caesar apparently took no part in this conflict,
but its principal figures on one side were his uncle, Marius, and his father-
in-law, Cinna. If Marius provided his nephew with an example of a great
warrior, beloved of his troops and popular with the common people, gath-
ering up all the accolades and chances for glory that he could regardless of
whose noses he put out of joint, Cinna (who held the highest office in the
state for four years in a row) provided his son-in-law with a taste of what
might be done with one leader and one faction running the show.
Unfortunately for Caesar, his family’s faction suffered military defeat at
the hands of Sulla, the other principal protagonist of the First Civil War.
Indeed, Sulla, as dictator of Rome, set out to destroy his surviving adver-
saries through proscriptions (i.e., executions) and to restrict or remove the
citizen rights even of their relatives, if not compelling them into outright
exile. Young Caesar learned much about what not to do from Sulla’s exam-
ple, but, at the same time, Caesar took to heart Sulla’s precedent of having
been the first Roman general to march his army of Roman soldiers against
Rome (twice, in fact).
Boldly, perhaps recklessly, Caesar defied Sulla, for personal reasons, and
later made a career of challenging the latter’s political reforms and many
of his supporters. In a very real sense, then, Sulla made Caesar the pol-
itician he became. His actions and words defined him repeatedly as the
“anti-Sulla.”
Having made a small name for himself as a junior officer in the east-
ern Mediterranean, Caesar, back in Rome, focused his energies on clever
prosecutions of Sulla’s minions. He developed an outstanding reputation
for eloquent oratory, intelligence, quick wit, and a spirit of clemency and
populism. He also played a role in the rising careers of the two men who
competed for Sulla’s place in the Senate, Pompey and Crassus. Caesar de-
veloped friendships with both men, relying on Crassus, the richest man in
Rome, for all sorts of political funding, and backing (often in the company
of Marcus Cicero, Pompey’s biggest fan) the endlessly ambitious Pompey,
the Late Republic’s greatest general after Marius (and before Caesar), in his
many, glory-seeking, military ventures. At the same time, Caesar resurrected
xxii
Introduction
and promoted the reputations of his fallen uncle and father-in-law and fur-
ther attacked other former Sullans or those who thought like them.
The year 63 BCE marked a watershed in Caesar’s career. He emerged
from behind his two more established, more influential friends, as he stood
up against a majority of the Senate in defense of the rights of fellow sena-
tors caught in the act of conspiracy. Their leader, Catiline, had plotted the
overthrow of the Republic. Caesar, promoting a sort of clemency to ar-
rested conspirators, found himself falsely implicated in the failed coup and
berated by the man who would become his staunchest opponent for almost
the next twenty years, Marcus Cato. Cato led a faction of senators who
believed that they were the best suited by temperament, judgment, and
breeding to lead the Republic, the self-styled boni or “Optimates.” They
dubbed politicians like Caesar and Pompey, who “catered to the masses,”
“Populares.” The Optimates made it their mission from 63 BCE onward to
stifle the “clear,” “unorthodox” ambitions of Julius Caesar.
His actions confirmed them in their stance. Caesar supported radical
measures and refused to desist, compelling the Senate to temporarily im-
peach him in 62 BCE. Then, as governor of Further Spain, he opportunis-
tically engaged in unauthorized, probably unnecessary, wars of expansion.
When it was time to return to Italy, he insisted on being granted a special
dispensation to stand for the consulship and hold a military triumph, a
combination forbidden by long-standing custom. When the Optimate-led
Senate denied his request, the ever pragmatic and willful Caesar simply
teamed up with Crassus and Pompey in a coalition we call the First Tri-
umvirate to ensure Caesar’s consular election and to achieve their various
goals. As consul in 59 BCE, Caesar demonstrated his disregard, perhaps even
contempt, for customs and taboos, employing bribery, intimidation, and
violence against his own colleague and any others who stood in the way.
To escape from immediate danger at home and to attain glory com-
parable to that of his associates, Caesar took on provincial commands in
the north of Italy and in southern France. From 58 through 50 BCE, his
campaigns of conquest and pacification throughout Gaul (roughly today’s
France and Belgium) and even across the Channel into Britain made Caesar
the greatest of all Roman military commanders in terms of talent, vision,
tactics, strategy, and versatility.
He suffered personal loss while he was away from home in the deaths of
his daughter, Julia; his mother, Aurelia; and his friend, Crassus. He also es-
sentially lost the friendship of Pompey, who began to align himself with the
Optimates and to distance himself from Caesar, the man whom the Opti-
mates hated above all other Romans.
The Optimates pushed vigorously for Caesar’s recall. They perceived,
better than many of their contemporaries, that, despite his charm, generos-
ity, and other alluring qualities, Caesar had long been kicking himself loose
xxiii
Introduction
of the Republic. He lacked the political and social inhibitions that were es-
sential to the maintenance of such an aristocratic government and had no
objection to subverting his own social class for personal benefit. On top of
that, his conquests had made Caesar virtually self-sufficient.
Roman history had no shortage of unconventional figures who bucked
the system, or at least massaged it, to achieve their own goals. One needs
to think only of famous heroes like Scipio Africanus, victor over Hannibal,
who was granted military authority as a general even though he had held
none of the requisite offices, or Marius, who held the highest of Roman
offices, the consulship, an unprecedented seven times across his political
career. Then there was Pompey, styled “the Great.” For Caesar’s genera-
tion, he epitomized the unconventional: in command of a private army at
the service of Sulla in his early twenties, granted a triumphal celebration at a
very young age without holding any elective position in the state, afterward
grabbing military commands (or at least credit for victory) from one rival
after another, Pompey had made his name by “coloring outside the lines.”
Julius Caesar had often backed Pompey, perhaps selfishly to open the way
for his own future endeavors, but perhaps simply because Caesar believed
that men with great abilities should be allowed free rein to boost their own
reputations and enhance the power of Rome. Like Alexander the Great,
whom he admired so much, Caesar possessed a pothos, an overwhelming
urge, to compete and achieve.
One might question why Caesar bothered to engage in Civil War with
his political opponents early in 49 BCE, when they finally pushed him too
far into a corner. After all, he had established himself in the Gallic territories
practically as a king, if not in name, at least in fact. He might have stayed
there and ruled a vast territory and its millions of inhabitants. Surely, his
rivals might eventually bring the fight to him—they desired so much to
bring him down—but armies from Rome likely could not have withstood
the Gallic warriors and Caesar’s loyal Roman troops, all of whom would
have had the “home-court advantage” anywhere in the Gallic region. He
might have launched further glorious expeditions into Britain and Ger-
many, rather than return to Italy. Instead, he fought against his Roman op-
ponents from 49 until their defeat in 45 BCE and eventually returned to the
capital.
Evidently, Caesar chose to launch the Civil War not only in defense of
his ego and his honor but also of his right to continue to be a player within
the Roman system. He had once remarked that he would rather be the first
man in a small, Alpine village than the second man in Rome, but that was
not entirely truthful. He had the opportunity, more than any other Roman
general before him, of setting up a fiefdom of his own, in Gaul, outside the
empire, away from all of his noisy, irritating critics, but he decided to face
them and insist on his preeminent place among them. The truth was that
xxiv
Introduction
he did not desire to be the first man anywhere else except Rome. Clearly,
Caesar could not envision his career outside of Roman society.
The Civil War between Caesarians and Pompeians was yet another cul-
mination of the fierce competitive energies of the Roman aristocracy over
the high stakes of empire. It was neither a war against the Senate nor for
the People, neither for a particular policy nor against a particular idea of
social order. Rather, the principal contenders in the conflict both regarded
themselves as the Republic, since the Republic was inseparable from every
Roman’s identity. Caesar had come to see himself as “Rome” in his many
dealings and conflicts with the populations of western Europe; the Opti-
mates, with Pompey as their champion, saw themselves as the guardians of
ancestral custom, traditions, taboos, the very stuff of “Rome.” Both sides
interpreted the Republic in their own way, and both were right, in their
own way.
“Defense of the Republic” to the death had served the Romans well over
the centuries in countless wars against foreign powers. Civil War merely
turned that ethic inward, toward fellow Romans suspected of “treachery,”
as had already happened with Marius and Sulla. The victorious Caesar re-
marked that the Republic was nothing but a name. Surely, he did not re-
ally believe this. The Republic was ancestry, religion, family, habits, politics,
values, and language, in short, everything to the Romans. They had a sort
of faith in it. The only acknowledged options were Greek-style democracy
or despotic monarchy. Democracy would not emerge from Caesar’s vic-
tory, and he certainly would not have wanted it to; he was not a true pop-
ulist, despite the dubious label of Popularis often attributed to him then
and later, and the People of Rome were not in any way mobilized to take
charge of the empire for themselves. As for monarchy, Caesar did flirt with
it as dictator after the war and especially as perpetual dictator in the last few
months of his life, but, if he had truly wanted to be king, he might have es-
tablished his reign immediately after his victories. He did not. Caesar knew
that he had charge of the Republic now and that it was in his safe-keeping.
He might have had a certain air of superiority, of authoritarian arrogance,
but he still continued to work with what was left of the Senate, when he
might have dissolved it altogether, and he operated largely within the pa-
rameters of the Republic, which he was supposed to be restoring to sound
health.
In his time as first man in Rome, Caesar implemented many lasting and
necessary reforms, some quite impressive in their administrative genius,
foresight, and imagination. He acted, as always, “in the moment,” with ex-
pedience in mind, and, sometimes, with an eye to the future. He perhaps
had not prepared himself for the role of “savior of the Republic,” a role
which other contemporaries of his had gladly taken on (or at least sought),
and he certainly did not have an agenda of reform from which to proceed.
xxv
Introduction
Instead, he “reconstituted the Republic” by fixing what appeared broken,

whether a ruined calendar or a depleted Senate or an overcrowded capital
city or the disregard for the untapped talents of Italian allies and provincial
subjects. The man who had established absolute command over the Gallic
territories could see how to bring greater efficiency and integration to the
Republic and the empire in particular ways.
Then, on March 15, the Ides of March, 44 BCE, a conspiracy of promi-
nent senators, many of whom had close personal ties to him, assassinated
Julius Caesar. Their motives varied widely, but their stated objective was
“to restore freedom to the Republic” and bring down “the Tyrant.” Cae-
sar was nothing of the kind. Without demeaning his abilities or his genius,
he was simply the most successful of a long series of ambitious men who
had wielded money, armies, and influence to get what they wanted within
the competitive elite of the Republic. Pompey had not been any better or
worse, and the Conspirators, especially their leaders, Brutus and Cassius,
were no different. The stakes had simply gotten higher and the conse-
quences for losing commensurately greater.
In the aftermath of Caesar’s death, his memory became a political foot-
ball quarreled over by his former comrades and heirs, by the Conspirators,
by the Senate, and by the People of Rome. His full, complex life story was
reduced to a stereotype, “a god” to those who loved him and “a destroyer”
to those who hated him. With minor exceptions, generations of Romans
under the emperors bought the official line on Julius Caesar, cleansed of
all selfish ambitions or wrongdoing: a man of exceptional military prow-
ess, honorable, valiant, and merciful. This view permeated the Middle Ages
as well, a time in which many rulers (especially the so-called Holy Roman
Emperors and the Byzantine Emperors) traced their “benevolent” power
back to Caesar.
Then came the Renaissance of the fourteenth century, when the well-
educated of Italy began to read the letters of Cicero and the memoirs of
Caesar and began to rediscover the complex world in which these two
complex men lived. As study of such classics spread across Europe, some
replaced their more naïve impressions of Julius Caesar with a greater ap-
preciation of his cleverness, cunningness, versatility, and ends-justify-the-
means approach, while others condemned him for exactly these qualities and
resurrected Cato, Brutus, and the like as the true heroes of Roman times.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the thinkers of the Enlight-
enment movement tended to take this latter stance as well, regarding Caesar
as a villain because he had (supposedly) aimed at an absolute power which
they detested. Revolutionaries inspired by the Enlightenment, across Eu-
rope and the Americas, agreed.
An important factor, however, intervened in this modern vilification
of Caesar. By the early nineteenth century, the realities of modernizing
xxvi
Introduction
warfare, including massive mobilization of citizen-troops, seemed to de-

mand the abilities of a sort of Caesar to bring about victory. Even revolu-
tionaries chose to follow such men, whether Simón Bolívar of Venezuela
or Napoleon Bonaparte of France. Increasingly, nationalistic political phi-
losophers and historians looked back to Caesar once again as a hero of the
Republic, as the ultimate man of his times.
This trend in thought and feeling culminated disastrously in the will to
power of men like Mussolini, Hitler, and, in truth, many others in the twen-
tieth century. Each believed Caesar had remade the world in his image, and
each believed he himself could do the same. They paid little attention to
Caesar’s fall. Such modern dictators were not alone, either, in their intense
admiration for Caesar and in laying claim to his place, since even American
generals, like Douglas MacArthur, might also be referred to as “Caesar.”
Despite any negative associations with him over the generations, fasci-
nation with Julius Caesar endures to this day. Indeed, outside of scholarly
circles, any ambivalence about Caesar seems to have faded into the back-
ground. Most television viewers, readers of fiction and nonfiction, movie-
goers, and gamers today will find our contemporary impression of Julius
Caesar, even of his most brutal and self-centered acts, a highly attractive
one, as if power and success make everything alright.
xxvii
Chronology
Year Details
753 BCE According to Roman traditions as interpreted by Caesar’s
contemporary, the antiquarian scholar Terentius Varro,
the village of Rome was founded in this year by the leg-
endary figures Romulus and Remus.
753–509 BCE According to Roman traditions, during this period, chiefs
or kings (singular rex, plural reges), drawn from native Ro-
mans, Sabines, and Etruscans, ruled the Roman commu-
nity, functioning in the capacities of warlord, chief priest,
and administrator.
509 BCE According to Roman traditions as interpreted by Varro,
members of the Roman aristocracy, led by a man named
Brutus, overthrew the power of the last Etruscan king, Tar-
quin the Proud, in this year and began the establishment of
a new system of government that they called Republic (from
res publica, meaning “that which concerns the People”).
509–287 BCE Scholars refer to this period as the Early Republic.
287–133 BCE Scholars refer to this period as the Middle Republic.
133–27 BCE Scholars refer to this period as the Late Republic.
133 BCE Tib. Sempronius Gracchus, one of the founding heroes
of the Populares, engages in radical political behavior as
plebeian tribune. Members of the Senate assassinate him
later in the year, casting his corpse into the Tiber River.
(Continued)
Chronology
Year Details
123–121 BCE C. Sempronius Gracchus, the other founding hero of the
Populares, holds the tribunate two years in succession
and implements an even more far-reaching program of re-
forms than his brother (the tribune of 133). Near the end
of his second tribunate, the Senate institutes a new mech-
anism for silencing such “troublemakers,” later called by
Caesar the senatus consultum ultimum (SCU) or final de-
cree of the Senate. Sanctioned by this SCU, the consul
Opimius leads a force to destroy the supporters of Grac-
chus, who himself commits suicide early in 121.
109–105 BCE Caesar’s uncle, C. Marius, with the help of his lieutenant,
L. Cornelius Sulla, secures victory over King Jugurtha of
Numidia.
102–101 BCE Marius and his colleague, Catulus the Elder, defeat Ger-
manic warriors who had invaded Italy.
100 BCE Julius Caesar is born to C. Julius Caesar and Aurelia
Cotta on July 13.
91–87 BCE The majority of Rome’s allies in Italy wage a war of rebel-
lion against the Republic, the so-called Social War, espe-
cially over the issue of citizenship rights.
89–85 BCE King Mithradates VI of Pontus rebels against Rome in
an attempt to expand his own territory across Asia Minor
and Greece.
88 BCE Sulla holds the magistracy of consul with Pompeius Rufus
as colleague. Chased out of Rome by the radical plebeian
tribune Sulpicius Rufus and his ally, Marius, Sulla returns
with a Roman army against the city and seizes it by force,
the first time a Roman general and Roman soldiers had
ever done so.
87 BCE Marius and others exiled by Sulla return to seize Rome
for themselves in support of the ousted consul, L. Corne-
lius Cinna, thus following Sulla’s precedent.
86 BCE Caesar is betrothed to Cornelia, daughter of Cinna, and
designated flamen dialis.
Caesar’s uncle, Marius, dies of illness.
85 BCE Caesar’s father dies (causes unrecorded).
Sulla brings the First Mithridatic War to an end.
84 BCE Caesar marries Cornelia.
(Continued)
xxx
Chronology
Year Details
Mutinous soldiers murder Cinna.
83–82 BCE The armies of Sulla’s faction and those loyal to the faction
of Marius and Cinna engage in a Civil War.
82 BCE Sulla scores his final victory in November and commences
the proscriptions.
81 BCE Sulla becomes dictator of Rome and fails to intimidate
Caesar into divorcing Cornelia.
81–78 BCE Caesar spends time away from Italy to distance himself
from Sulla’s wrath. In Asia Minor, he serves in the Roman
military with distinction.
78 BCE Sulla dies of illness.
78–77 BCE Lepidus the Elder rebels against the Senate but fails in
the end against armies under Catulus the Younger and
Pompey.
77 BCE Caesar prosecutes Cn. Dolabella, a former Sullan, in the
law courts of Rome but fails to win a conviction.
76 BCE Caesar prosecutes another former Sullan, C. Antonius,
again without success.
75 BCE Pirates capture and then ransom Caesar, who afterward
hunts them down and crucifies them.
Caesar studies rhetoric with Apollonius Molon of
Rhodes.
74 BCE Caesar participates in the Third Mithridatic War
(74–63 BCE) by helping to protect the Roman province
of Asia from the king’s raiders with a force of irregular
troops raised on his own initiative.
73 BCE The college of pontiffs co-opts Caesar as a member.
72 BCE Rome’s voters elect Caesar military tribune.
70 BCE Crassus and Pompey hold consulships together after
their victories over Spartacus and Sertorius,
respectively.
69 BCE Caesar holds the elected magistracy of quaestor.
Marius’s widow, Julia, passes away, as does Cornelia. In
honor of his aunt and his wife, Caesar delivers well-
received public eulogies.
As quaestor, Caesar is posted to Further Spain on the staff
of the Roman governor.
(Continued)
xxxi
Chronology
Year Details
67 BCE Pompey receives an extraordinary command against the pi-
rates of the Mediterranean region under the Gabinian Law
(lex Gabinia), which had the outspoken support of Caesar.
Caesar marries a second time, to Pompeia, granddaughter
of Pompeius Rufus and of Sulla.
Caesar serves as curator (superintendent) of the Appian
Way, Rome’s most important highway.
66 BCE Caesar and Cicero speak in favor of the Manilian Law (lex
Manilia), which transfers command of the Third Mithri-
datic War from L. Licinius Lucullus to Pompey.
65 BCE Caesar holds the elected magistracy of curule aedile with
M. Calpurnius Bibulus as colleague. He stages magnifi-
cent gladiatorial games.
The Transpadani, encouraged by Crassus and Caesar, agi-
tate for citizenship equal to the rest of Italy.
Senatorial rivals allege a conspiracy against the state, im-
plicating Crassus and Caesar, among others.
64 BCE Caesar is appointed judge for the standing court on murder.
Pompey brings Syria into the empire as a province, end-
ing the Seleucid Kingdom.
63 BCE Caesar prosecutes C. Rabirius for murder and treason but
fails to secure a conviction.
Caesar wins election as Pontifex Maximus. He moves his
family from their home in the Subura to the official resi-
dence, the Domus Publica in the Forum Romanum.
Pompey intervenes in the Judaean civil war, forging a new
alliance for Rome.
L. Sergius Catiline (Catiline in English) attempts a con-
spiracy to overthrow the Republic and assassinate top of-
ficials, such as the consul, Marcus Cicero. The latter foils
the plot. Caesar finds himself falsely implicated in the
conspiracy after his speech to the Senate on December 5,
in favor of holding arrested conspirators under indefinite
detention rather than executing them. Cato the Younger
emerges as Caesar’s principal political adversary in his
counterargument, which propels Cicero and the Senate to
order the executions.
Atia, Caesar’s niece, gives birth to her son, and his future
heir, Octavian, on September 23.
(Continued)
xxxii
Chronology
Year Details
62 BCE Caesar holds the elected magistracy of praetor. The Sen-
ate censures him for supporting the radical proposals of
the plebeian tribune Metellus Nepos and Caesar resigns
his office (actually the Senate impeached him) temporar-
ily. The Senate reinstates him not long after, under public
pressure.
Caesar divorces his wife, Pompeia, after her
implication with Clodius in the Bona Dea scandal
(December).
61–60 BCE Caesar governs the province of Further Spain, engaging
in wars of conquest as well as financial reforms.
60 BCE Caesar returns to Italy and forms a political coalition with
Crassus and Pompey, what we call the First Triumvirate,
against their opponents in the Senate. Together, they
ensure that Caesar wins one of the spots in the consular
elections.
60/59 B.C.E Caesar marries his third wife, Calpurnia.
Pompey marries Julia, Caesar’s daughter by his first wife,
Cornelia.
59 BCE Caesar holds the elected magistracy of consul with
Bibulus as his colleague. Caesar employs violent
tactics against his colleague and other opponents in
order to force certain measures through the Popular
Assemblies. This leaves him open to future prosecution
and colors the remainder of his political career.
58–50 BCE Caesar governs the provinces of Cisalpine Gaul, Illyricum,
and Transalpine Gaul. From the latter, he wages wars
of conquest and pacification throughout Gallia
Comata.
58 BCE Caesar defeats two warrior-tribes that had invaded
Gaul, first the Helvetii and later also the Suebi under
Ariovistus.
Clodius, as plebeian tribune working for the First
Triumvirate, compels Cicero into exile and arranges
for Cato’s removal from Rome on diplomatic business.
Clodius’s gangs, and those of his chief opponent, Milo,
will terrorize Roman politics for the next six years.
57 BCE The Belgae of northeastern Gaul rebel against Roman
encroachment. Caesar suppresses their uprising.
Pompey assists efforts to recall Cicero from exile.
(Continued)
xxxiii
Chronology
Year Details
56 BCE Crassus and Pompey meet Caesar in April at Luca in
northern Italy to renew their coalition.
55 BCE Pompey inaugurates his new Theater on the Campus
Martius in Rome.
Having had a special bridge constructed over the Rhine
River, Caesar crosses over into Germania (Germany)
to carry out punitive expeditions and demonstrate the
strength of Roman arms.
Caesar launches his first military reconnaissance expedi-
tion into Britain.
54 BCE Caesar conducts his larger, second military expedition
into Britain.
The Gallic chieftain Ambiorix ravages Roman forces in
their winter quarters in Gaul.
Caesar’s daughter, Julia, wife of Pompey, dies from com-
plications in childbirth. Her baby dies not long after.
Caesar’s mother, Aurelia, passes away.
Caesar commissions and work begins on the replacement
of the Basilica Sempronia with the Basilica Julia, as well as
construction of the new Forum Iulium.
53 BCE Forces of the Parthian Empire ambush and kill Crassus
near Carrhae in Syria.
52 BCE On January 18, Clodius is murdered on the Appian Way
in an altercation with his rival, Milo.
The Senate selects Pompey as sole consul with a mandate
to restore law and order in Rome on February 25.
The Gallic chieftain, Vercingetorix, leads a “nationwide”
rebellion against Roman power in Gallia Comata. Major
battles include Avaricum, Gergovia, and Alesia. The re-
markable siege and counter-siege of Alesia turns the tide
against the Gauls.
51 BCE Caesar engages in mopping-up operations across Gaul.
51–50 BCE The Optimates push for Caesar’s recall.
50 BCE The Senate passes four resolutions to weaken Caesar’s
position within the state and the Roman military
(September 29–30).
49–45 BCE Caesar and his Roman rivals wage Civil War across the
empire.
(Continued)
xxxiv
Chronology
Year Details
49 BCE The plebeian tribune C. Scribonius Curio delivers a gen-
erally conciliatory letter from Caesar to the consuls in
Rome on January 1.
On January 7, the Optimates in the Senate precipitate the
departure from Rome of the plebeian tribunes Q. Cas-
sius and Marc Antony, who flee to Caesar’s camp in Cisal-
pine Gaul. The Senate decrees that Caesar must lay down
his arms and return to Rome or be considered a public
enemy (i.e., an SCU is implemented).
Caesar crosses the Rubicon River on the night of January
10, to defend his interests, thus sparking the Civil War.
Pompey departs Rome along with the consuls on January
17 or 18, to make his stand against Caesar in southern
Italy.
Caesar lays siege to the forces of Domitius Ahenobarbus
in the town of Corfinium. Those forces surrender to Cae-
sar on February 21, and Caesar pardons Domitius.
On March 17 or 18, Pompey and his troops, along with
a portion of the Roman Senate, leave Italy by way of
Brundisium, heading for Greece.
Caesar finally comes to Rome, where he meets with the
Senate on April 1–3.
Caesar wages war in the spring and summer against the
Pompeian loyalist armies in Spain under the command of
Petreius, Afranius, and Varro, in order to secure that re-
gion for his cause. The critical battle of Ilerda in August
ensures his victory.
Caesar’s forces lay siege to the city of Massilia in Transal-
pine Gaul from April through October until compelling
the people’s capitulation.
In the late summer and early fall, Curio, acting as legate
of Caesar, meets defeat at the hands of Pompeian loyalists
in North Africa, especially King Juba I of Numidia, and
dies in battle.
Caesar returns to Rome in December, having already
been chosen by the Senate and People of Rome as dicta-
tor, a position he holds for only eleven days.
48 BCE Caesar holds his second consulship, taking P. Servilius Is-
auricus as his colleague.
(Continued)
xxxv
Chronology
Year Details
Caesar crosses over to western Greece with a small force
on January 4 or 5.
Caelius Rufus and Milo instigate a failed uprising against
Caesar’s authority in Italy in the spring.
Having acquired reinforcements from Italy, Caesar at-
tempts to bottle up Pompey’s forces in the Siege of Dyr-
rachium (spring–summer) but fails and suffers defeat at
Pompey’s hands (about July 7). Caesar withdraws his
army into northeastern Greece.
Pompey engages Caesar’s army in the decisive Battle of
Pharsalus on August 9; Pompey is defeated and flees,
eventually to Egypt.
The Senate and People of Rome recognize Caesar as dic-
tator for a second time, granting him powers for one year.
Agents of the Egyptian king, Ptolemy XIII, murder Pom-
pey on September 28, not long after his arrival.
Caesar, having pursued Pompey, arrives in Alexandria on
October 2, where he is presented with the severed head of
Pompey as a token of allegiance from Ptolemy XIII. Cae-
sar begins to involve himself in the Civil War between the
king and his sister, Cleopatra VII, turning it into what we
know as the Alexandrian War. His romantic relationship
with her also begins around this time.
47 BCE The Egyptian siege of Caesar in Alexandria, the Alexan-
drian War, ends with his victory over Ptolemy’s forces on
March 27.
Caesar remains in Egypt for some time, until early June,
having recognized Cleopatra and her youngest brother,
Ptolemy XIV, as co-rulers there. She indulges Caesar’s
need for rest and recreation with tours of Egyptian won-
ders.
Not long after Caesar’s departure from Egypt, Cleopatra
gives birth to her son, Ptolemy XV Caesarion on June 23,
claiming Julius Caesar as the father.
On August 2, Caesar defeats Pharnaces, King of Bospo-
rus, in a battle at Zela in Pontus. He reports back to his
friends and to the Senate in Rome, Veni, vidi, vici
(“I came; I saw; I conquered”).
Caesar returns to Rome in September but leaves again
on December 25 for the purpose of crushing opposition
armies in North Africa (arrives there on December 28).
(Continued)
xxxvi
Chronology
Year Details
46 BCE Caesar holds his third consulship, taking M. Aemilius
Lepidus as his colleague.
After months of difficult campaigning, which almost end
in Caesar’s defeat, on April 6, he instead defeats the Pom-
peians under Metellus Scipio and their ally, King Juba I,
in the Battle of Thapsus.
Cato the Younger, Caesar’s staunchest political opponent,
commits suicide on April 9 to avoid capture.
Caesar returns to Rome on July 25. The Senate and Peo-
ple of Rome appoint him as dictator once again, this time
for a ten-year term.
From September 20 through October 1, Caesar celebrates
four triumphal ceremonies in honor of his victories in
Gaul, Egypt, Pontus, and North Africa. He also inaugu-
rates the Forum Iulium.
Caesar leaves for Spain in early November for the pur-
pose of ending the last opposition to his power posed by
armies under the sons of Pompey.
45 BCE Caesar holds his fourth consulship alone for nine months,
and then appoints three supporters to replace him in suc-
cession.
The forces of Pompey’s sons suffer defeat by Caesar in the
Battle of Munda on March 17. Caesar’s soldiers behead
the elder son, Cnaeus, captured three weeks after the
battle. The younger son, Sextus Pompey, survives to con-
tinue the fight against Caesar’s lieutenants in Spain.
Caesar returns to Rome in October and celebrates an un-
popular triumph in honor of his victory in Spain.
44 BCE Caesar holds his fifth consulship, taking Marc Antony as
his colleague and designating P. Cornelius Dolabella as his
suffect should he leave Rome.
Caesar commissions and work begins on the new Senate
House or Curia Julia.
The Senate and People of Rome confer upon Caesar the
“Dictatorship for Life” (Dictator Perpetuus) on February 14.
Antony attempts to crown Caesar as king at the Luperca-
lia Festival on February 15.
On the Ides (15th) of March, the Conspiracy of the Lib-
erators, led by Cassius and Brutus, assassinates Caesar in
the Curia of Pompey.
xxxvii
(ABC-CLIO)
(ABC-CLIO)
Genealogy of Julius Caesar
A
Adriatic Sea
Adriatic Sea
In the time of Julius Caesar, Romans did not journey overland to get to
their important provinces in Greece. Instead, the Adriatic Sea was the major
“highway” between Italy and Greece, whether for trade, leisure travel, or
military operations.
The Adriatic is part of the larger Mediterranean Sea; it stretches north-
ward about 500 miles, dividing the Italian Peninsula in the west from Greece
and the rest of southeastern Europe, about 120 miles to the east. The an-
cients referred to it also as the Upper Sea or the Ionian Sea, though this
latter term came to apply more to the southern part of this body of water.
Archaeology has demonstrated that human beings sailed across the Adri-
atic Sea since the Neolithic era of prehistoric times; indeed, people from
Mediterranean population centers sailed up the Adriatic to exchange goods
with people coming southward from as far away as central Europe and even
the Baltic Sea coast. All this trade and travel took place even though the Adri-
atic was always notorious for its storms, unpredictable in spring and summer,
extremely dangerous in fall and winter; over 150 shipwrecks of the classical
period have been discovered under Adriatic waters by marine archaeologists.
The Romans learned to navigate the Adriatic from the much more expe-
rienced Greeks, who had been sailing across it for many generations, having
established colonies along both coasts of the sea, especially in southern Italy
and Sicily. Eventually, these Greek sailors needed Roman protection against
other expert mariners, the Illyrian pirates (inhabitants of what is today Al-
bania and Montenegro), who raided commerce in the Adriatic for many
generations until they were stopped by the efforts of Pompey the Great in
the first half of the first century BCE.
Caesar traveled across the Adriatic on many occasions during his lifetime.
The first was when he left Rome at the age of nineteen to serve on the mili-
tary staff of M. Thermus, governor of the province of Asia (western Tur-
key today). A few years later, he again went east across the sea, this time to
study on the island of Rhodes.
Caesar’s next crossing of the Adriatic, however, was his most famous,
when he pursued his rival Pompey to Greece about a year into their Civil
War. Caesar took seven legions across to Greece in the middle of winter;
he quickly sent his ships back to Italy to pick up his remaining troops, but
many of the ships were intercepted and destroyed by his enemy, Bibulus.
The surviving vessels collected as many troops as they could on the Italian
side but stayed there when news reached them about Bibulus’s control of
most harbors on the other side of the Adriatic. Caesar managed to get dis-
patches to them encouraging their departure and tried personally to return
to them in a small boat and hearten their spirits, despite extremely rough
winter weather. His effort failed, so he had to wait until early spring for the
3
Adriatic Sea
Panorama of the Adriatic Sea, as viewed from the coast of Croatia. The Adriatic was
the scene of much piracy, trade, and travel in ancient times, as well as major naval
warfare in the days of Caesar. (Sjankauskas/Dreamstime.com)
arrival of reinforcements. Even then, the conditions of the Adriatic played

their part, as the south wind carried the fleet under Marc Antony, Caesar’s
principal lieutenant, too far north, almost into the hands of the enemy on
the Greek coast. Fortunately, the wind drove Antony’s ships far ahead of
the enemy’s into a safe harbor and then changed direction, ploughing the
enemy ships directly into the rocky shore. Almost a year later, Caesar and
CAESAR AND FORTUNA

The Romans, like the Greeks before them, personified certain intan-
gible concepts as deities; one of these was the goddess Fortuna, the
embodiment of luck, both good and bad, of success and misfortune,
of one’s chances, so to speak. Some Romans in the Late Republic,
however, foremost among them Julius Caesar, considered themselves
to be “Fortune’s favorites,” because luck or chance always seemed to
work in their favor, success always seemed to attend them, at least in
the long run. Caesar clearly had this attitude about himself as early
as his wars in Gaul, since he refers in his account of those wars to his
“proverbial good fortune.” During the Civil War afterward, in the
4
Aedui
winter of early 48 BCE, when Caesar tried to get back across the Adri-
atic Sea during a terrible storm in order to spur on reinforcements
from Italy, he reassured the captain of the small boat in which he
made the journey by asserting that not only Caesar but also “Cae-
sar’s Fortune” was on board. On his retreat from Pompey’s forces in
western Greece in the summer of that year, Caesar suggested that the
courage of his men could redeem the losses caused by Fortuna, and
when they emerged victorious in the Battle of Pharsalus, he told them
to press home the advantage given to them by Fortuna. As Caesar said
in his Bellum Gallicum, always one must reckon with the uncertain
element of Fortuna, who wields extraordinary power in the game of
war and surprises beyond one’s calculations. His victories assured him
that Fortuna was on his side in the end.
his men returned to Italy by way of the Adriatic, having defeated all en-
emies in the eastern half of the empire.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Bibulus (d. 48 BCE);
Colonies; Mediterranean Sea; Navy/Ships; Piracy; Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Casson, L. 1996. Ships and Seafaring in Ancient Times. Austin: University of Texas
Press.
Hammond, N.G.L. 1981. Epirus. North Stratford, NH: Ayer Co. Publishers.
Parker, A. J. 1992. Ancient Shipwrecks of the Mediterranean and the Roman Prov-
inces. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports.
Aedui
Of all the peoples in Gallia Comata (“Long-Haired Gaul,” roughly France
north of modern Provence), those who provided Julius Caesar with the
most loyalty were the Aedui. Even they, however, eventually turned against
Roman expansionism in the region, caught up in a wave of what we might
call today Celtic nationalism.
The Aedui had the oldest relationship with Rome among the tribes of
Gaul, going back about sixty years before the time that Caesar’s gover-
norship of Provence (Gallia Transalpina) began in 58 BCE. As in so many
other cases across the Mediterranean world, the Aedui’s relationship with
Rome sprung out of necessity: long-standing rivalries with their neighbors
to the south, the Allobroges, and especially the very powerful Arverni (who
5
Aedui
had even been allies of Hannibal, the Carthaginian), brought the Aedui a
conflict they could not win on their own. Since the Roman government
at the time (121 BCE) had concerns that this war would spill down to the
southern coast of France, where they had Greek allies like Massilia (modern
Marseilles) and a valuable trade and communications corridor stretching
from Italy to their provinces in Spain, they intervened when appealed to
by the Aedui. Thereafter, the Aedui grew in power and influence through-
out Gaul, recognized by the Roman Senate as “brothers and kinsmen of
Rome.”
In the years intervening between those events and Caesar’s governor-
ship, however, neither Rome nor the Aedui had done much to assist the
other when they might have. Instead, their connection seems to have been
only a nominal one. Yet Caesar emphasized this connection, and the du-
ties of Rome to the Aedui, as nonetheless significant, when the latter faced
the menace of Germanic warriors under Ariovistus of the Suebi. Invited
into Gaul by the Sequani (rivals of the Aedui to the northeast), the forces
of Ariovistus had rapidly turned around to subjugate them and then to
confront the reputation of the Aedui; in battle after battle, the Aedui were
defeated and they, too, became payers of tribute to the Germans, who also
demanded hostages as security. One of the Aeduan leaders (and a Druid
priest), Divitiacus, broke the code of silence imposed upon his people by
Ariovistus and informed the Roman Senate about the subjugation of his
people and their need for Roman assistance. This request for assistance,
however, reached Caesar only three years later.
Caesar had recently defeated the Helvetii (a warrior tribe that had in-
vaded Gaul from Switzerland). As the representative of Rome, he could
not allow allies like the Aedui to remain under the thumb of Ariovistus;
his mandate from the Roman Senate gave him broad authority to protect
them and the tradition of Roman patron–client relations in the interna-
tional realm required that the Romans bestow favors upon their allies and
not permit any harm to come to them. On the other side, the German
warlord considered the Aedui now within his sphere of influence, blaming
them for waging a war against him that they could not and did not win. Di-
plomacy, thus, failed to free the Aedui, so Caesar turned to military means.
He depended a great deal on the advice of Divitiacus to guide his decisions
in this regard, and the leaders of the Aedui in general showed their com-
mitment to help the Roman forces against the Suebi, especially through
provisions. When Roman troops defeated those of Ariovistus in battle, they
not only secured the freedom of the Aedui but also further enhanced the
influence of the latter through much of Gaul.
In the following year, Divitiacus, upon Caesar’s request, arranged for a
contingent of Aeduan forces to invade the territory of the Belgae (a group of
Gallo-Germanic tribes inhabiting what is today Belgium and southwestern
6
Aedui
Holland) when they stood against Roman expansion in Gaul. This maneu-
ver induced one of those tribes (the Bellovaci) to end its hostilities with
Rome, and the Aedui served as guarantors of their continued obedience to
Caesar. The Aedui, then, were not only loyal clients of Rome, but they were
also effective patrons for their fellow Gauls.
Not every Aeduan noble was as loyal as Divitiacus, though; his own
brother, Dumnorix, frequently intrigued for his own benefit, either inciting
tribes against the Romans or using his family’s link to Caesar to claim great
power among his own people. When Caesar attempted to get Dumnorix
out of the way by taking him on a military expedition to Britain in 54 BCE,
the latter escaped and fought back against pursuing Roman cavalry until
they cut him down. For the moment, this quieted any unrest among those
Aedui who contemplated rebellion against Roman power.
Two years later, while Caesar had on his hands the major, Gallic-wide
rebellion led by Vercingetorix of the Arverni, the Aedui fell into civil strife,
eerily paralleling the looming tensions facing the Romans themselves at
that time. The warriors of the tribe had ranged themselves behind two
competing chieftains, Convictolitavis and Cotus; Caesar intervened with
the ruling council of the Aedui to favor the former as the “more legitimate”
leader of the tribe than the latter.
Temporarily, his action secured peace and 10,000 support troops for
the war against Vercingetorix. Yet it did not take long for Convictoli-
tavis to betray Caesar for his own ambitious purposes and to galvanize
other Aeduan warriors (especially the up-and-coming Litaviccus) to do
the same, either through playing on their fears of Roman cruelty and
domination or through outright bribery. Caesar continued his operations
against Vercingetorix with Aeduan aid, while keeping a careful eye on his
so-called allies.
Eventually, Caesar learned that Convictolitavis, Litaviccus, and others
had convinced the Aedui to throw in their lot with Vercingetorix (despite
their jealousy of his power); they were also bringing other Gallic tribes to
their side to join in the war that was supposed to rid them of Roman inter-
ference once and for all and restore “Gallic freedom.” The result, however,
was the remarkable Siege of Alesia and defeat of Vercingetorix along with
all his own and allied forces. Caesar, as a gesture of mercy, restored the cap-
tured Aeduan prisoners to their homeland (instead of selling them off as
slaves), but he also seized upon the principal town of the Aedui, Bibracte,
as his headquarters, keeping the rest of their territory under the strict guard
of Roman forces.
Rescued by Caesar from vassalage to the Germans, the Aedui had fallen
from the pinnacle of prominence by turning against him. It would take a
century for them to make up for that mistake and once again attain that
high status in the eyes of Rome.
7
Aeneas
See also: Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE); Ariovistus; Belgae; Gaul/Gallia Comata;
Helvetii; Patrons and Clients; Suebi; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Cunliffe, B. 1997. The Ancient Celts. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Drinkwater, J. F. 1983. Roman Gaul. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
King, A. 1990. Roman Gaul and Germany. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University
of California Press.
Long, F. P. 2005. Caesar. The Conquest of Gaul. New York: Barnes and Noble, Inc.
Rankin, H. D. 1987. Celts and the Classical World. London and New York: Rout-
ledge.
Thompson, E. A. 1965. The Early Germans. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
Wightman, E. M. 1985. Gallia Belgica. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press.
Aeneas
Julius Caesar’s family claimed descent from Aeneas, a Trojan hero. They
believed that Aeneas’s son founded the town of Alba Longa; when that
town was destroyed, its refugees fled to Bovillae and from there to Rome.
Among those refugees was the Julius family.
The most famous Greek poet, Homer, in his Iliad, described Aeneas
as a member of the extended royal family of Troy, a formidable warrior
(though not strong enough to defeat Achilles in the legendary Trojan
War), protected by the gods because of his special piety and promised by
them to become a ruler of Trojans in the future. Later Greek authors,
both poets and historians, expanded on the tale. They said that Aeneas
fled Troy after its destruction by the Greeks, taking with him his father,
Anchises, and his son, sometimes called Ascanius, sometimes Iulus (hence
the connection made by the Julius family in Rome), and some of the sa-
cred relics of his city (e.g., the Palladium, the wooden statuette of Athena
supposedly housed later in the Temple of Vesta in Rome). With his family
and crew, he wandered through the Aegean, the Adriatic, and the central
Mediterranean seas, searching for a promised land, where he was to found
a new race.
It was the Greek authors who identified this promised land as Italy.
They tried to explain the origins of the populations in Italy using their
own myths, especially by claiming that those populations descended from
various refugees of the Trojan War. In the sixth century BCE, for example,
the Sicilian Greek poet, Stesichorus, linked the wanderings of the Trojan
prince Aeneas with the Italian peninsula; fifth century BCE Greek histori-
ans, like Hellanicus of Lesbos and Damaste of Sigeum, connected Aeneas
8
Aeneas
Aeneas carrying his father Anchises and the sacred palladium of Athena, as depicted on a
denarius of Julius Caesar minted in 47 or 46 BCE. During his campaign against Pompey’s
faction in North Africa, Caesar minted coins such as this to pay his troops and advertise
his family’s connection to the famous Trojan hero, son of the goddess Venus.
(De Agostini/A. De Gregorio/De Agostini Picture Library/Getty Images)
with stories about Latinus, legendary king of the Latin speakers. The figure
of Aeneas was clearly popular in Italy as evidenced in the many statuettes
and vase paintings, produced by Greeks for the Italian market, dated to the
sixth and fifth centuries BCE, that depict Aeneas carrying his aged father An-
chises on his shoulders in their escape from burning Troy.
Roman authors, like Varro, Cato the Elder, Ennius, and Naevius, em-
braced the deep roots in history and legend offered to them through the
tying of their culture to Aeneas; they identified him as the ancestor of their
traditional founding father, Romulus. According to the Roman historian,
Livy, the early Roman king, Numa, required regular sacrifices to the spirit of
Aeneas. This link between the legendary Trojans and the Romans allowed
9
Aeneas
some Romans to look down on the Greek populations they conquered as

hereditary enemies and thus to justify those conquests as long-overdue ven-
geance for the destruction of Troy, the Romans’ homeland; Aeneas’s jilting
of the queen of Carthage, Dido, and her consequent suicide seemed to ex-
plain the hatred between Carthage and Rome that led to their three major
wars over the course of a century.
The best-known Roman account of Aeneas was written after Caesar’s
death by the poet Virgil (70–19 BCE). In his epic poem, the Aeneid, Virgil
emphasizes the role played by Aeneas’s mother, Venus, the goddess of love
(Aphrodite among the Greeks), who urges her son on in his wanderings
and protects him. Claiming Aeneas as an ancestor thus gave the Julian fam-
ily divine lineage, which both Caesar and his great-nephew Octavian (Em-
peror Augustus) used to their advantage through political propaganda; in
those days, it was not uncommon for Greek kings to claim ancestry from
gods or heroes or both, and now powerful Roman rulers did the same, with
literally millions of people believing in, we might say, their “divine right to
rule.” Caesar made this connection most publicly when he delivered the
funeral eulogy for his aunt Julia in 69 BCE; he emphasized her descent not
only from the early kings of Rome on her mother’s side but also from the
goddess Venus on her father’s side.
Virgil’s Aeneas is not a traditional epic hero in the Greek sense: instead
of being self-motivated, possessing private goals, passions, and flaws, and
pursuing his own agenda pretty much against whatever odds, as did heroes
like Achilles in his wrath or Odysseus in his quest to return to his family,
Aeneas frequently displays mental and psychological conflict caused by his
private desires (e.g., his love for Queen Dido of Carthage) colliding with
his public duties (especially his mission to found the Roman race), with the
public duties always winning out. Aeneas, thus, came to embody the traits
of the stalwart Roman soldier, the dutiful Roman general, and the good
Roman Emperor.
Even as late as the fifth century CE, Germanic populations, like the
Franks, also claimed ancestry from the Trojans (under the influence of
the Greek tales) and hence “familial” connection with the Roman Em-
pire, a large chunk of which they took over for themselves, therefore, “by
right.”
See also: Aeneid (Virgil); Names; Propaganda; Religion, Roman
Further Reading
Bremer, J. N., and N. M. Horsfall. 1987. Roman Myth and Mythography. London:
University of London Institute of Classical Studies.
Gruen, E. 1995. Culture and National Identity in Republican Rome. Ithaca, NY:
Cornell University Press.
10
Aeneid (Virgil)
Aeneid (Virgil)
The most famous Roman account of Aeneas, the Trojan hero whom Ro-
mans claimed as the ancestor of their people and whom the Julius family
claimed as their particular ancestor, was written after Caesar’s death by the
poet P. Vergilius Maro, commonly known as Virgil in English, who would
have been about twenty-six years old at the time of Caesar’s assassination.
His Aeneid was written in the style of traditional Greek epic poetry, a genre
that celebrated the achievements of a heroic person in history or myth,
someone who suffered and endured hardships as tests of his skills and vir-
tues until meeting his fate.
The first six books of the Aeneid recall Homer’s Odyssey. In Book One,
the poet takes us into the story with a storm at sea caused at the behest of
the goddess Juno, who hates Aeneas and his fellow Trojan travelers and is
determined to stop them from achieving their destiny; the reader is assured
of Aeneas’s survival by the prophecy of Jupiter, ruler of the universe. Ae-
neas and his shipmates land safely at Carthage. Protected and guided by
Venus, his divine mother, Aeneas relates to the Carthaginian queen, Dido,
his mission to found a new race.
In Books Two and Three, Aeneas recounts the fall of Troy and his wan-
derings since then; especially important is how he lost his faithful wife when
Troy fell but saved his father, Anchises (though he later died during the
voyage), and son, Ascanius; how pious he was (and is) toward the gods; and
how the future of his people through him was predicted.
Whether romanced by Aeneas’s tale or “poisoned” by the young god
Cupid, Dido falls deeply in love with the hero in Book Four. There are
clear parallels drawn by the poet between their relationship and the his-
torical relationship between Carthage and Rome, which started off on
good footing and ended in deep distrust and hatred of one another; lit-
erary commentators have also noticed the strong resonance between the
two characters, Aeneas and Dido, and the famous, real-life love story of
the time, that of Antony and Cleopatra. Unlike Antony, however, who
remained with his beloved to the bitter end, Aeneas leaves Carthage,
forsaking a distraught Dido, to continue his mission; Dido’s curse and
suicide foreshadow the fate of his descendants and hers in the distant
future.
In Book Five, the Trojans reach the island of Sicily, where they hold tra-
ditional funeral games in honor of Anchises. Leaving some of his followers
behind in Sicily, Aeneas takes the rest to Italy onboard a few ships where
they land at Cumae (near Naples) to consult the Sibyl, an ancient Greek
prophetess very much like the more famous Oracle of Delphi. In Book
Six, at Sibyl’s instruction, Aeneas seeks the entrance into the Underworld
and makes his descent into the realm of the dead. There, he meets fallen
11
Aeneid (Virgil)
comrades and the bitter Dido, finding out for the first time that his depar-
ture drove her to suicide. Emotional and full of regret, Aeneas is, none-
theless, powerless to help her and so continues on his quest. Certainly, the
most important spirit that he encounters is that of his father, Anchises, who
reveals to Aeneas “the children of Iulus,” a whole series of future Roman
heroes, from Romulus to the Emperor Augustus, and defines Rome’s di-
vine mission, which, of course, will not be fulfilled if Aeneas does not reach
his destination and succeed.
The remaining six books of the poem recall Homer’s Iliad. In Book
Seven, Aeneas and his men arrive peacefully in Latium (modern Lazio),
the homeland of the Latin-speaking peoples under King Latinus, who
suspects that Aeneas may be the foreign husband prophesied by the
gods for his daughter, Lavinia. But his wife, Amata, and Lavinia’s fi-
ancée, Turnus, fueled by the goddess Juno, work for war against Ae-
neas. In Book Eight, Aeneas receives divine guidance and local military
support.
Books Nine through Eleven recount the war between Trojans and Ital-
ian peoples. Finally, in Book Twelve, Aeneas promises coexistence and co-
operation with the Italian peoples, rule of law, and a shared empire, but
fails to persuade the enraged Turnus, still urged on by divine forces. When
Aeneas, preparing for possible death in battle against Turnus, bids farewell
to his young son, Ascanius, he reminisces about his life story, his toils, and
bad fortune, gods and fate, and the failed peace; as a result, Aeneas also
becomes enraged. Like two bulls, Aeneas and Turnus meet face to face
for the final one-on-one combat. Aeneas bests Turnus, but then hesitates,
confronting the choice of sparing his foe or killing him. Despite Turnus’s
pleas for mercy, Aeneas runs him through, impelled by hatred and by his
deceased father’s advice to “battle down the proud” but also, like a priest
sacrificing an animal, to win the favor of the gods and remove a source of
discord from the promised land.
See also: Aeneas; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cleopatra
(d. 30 BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Religion, Roman
Further Reading
Cairns, F. 2006. Virgil’s Augustan Epic. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Fagles, R., and B. Knox. 2006. Virgil, The Aeneid. New York: Penguin
Publishing.
Gransden, K. W. 1990. Virgil: The Aeneid. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Griffin, J. 2002. Virgil. London: Duckworth Publishers.
Johnson, W. R. 1976. Darkness Visible. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press.
12
Agriculture
Agriculture
Agriculture was the basis of all ancient economies, maintaining the stan-
dard of living of all the populations in Rome’s empire, including those
residents in the large towns and cities, who consumed masses of agricul-
tural produce every year. Upper-class Romans, from whose writings most
of our evidence for agriculture derives, promoted idealized views of the
countryside and the ownership of rural property; they praised the inde-
pendent peasant farmer who produced for himself and his family, did not
sell his labor to others for wages, and served when called by his country
as a citizen-soldier. Despite such idyllic images of rural life, which became
even more prevalent after Caesar’s time, agriculture in ancient times was
extremely hard work.
Scholars estimate that close to 90 percent of the people in the Roman
Empire lived in the countryside, as farmers (agricolae) growing crops or as
shepherds (pastores) raising livestock or often both. They engaged in sub-
sistence agriculture and tried to raise most everything they needed (grain,
vegetables, livestock), every person in a farming family contributing what
labor and wealth he or she had for the good of the whole. Productivity,
Vineyards and olive fields in the Chianti region of Tuscany, Italy. Wine, olives, and
olive oil were among the staples of ancient Roman agriculture, as they are now in
modern Italian agriculture. (Annavee/Dreamstime.com)
13
Agriculture
determined from written sources and modern excavations, land surveys,

and scientific research into preserved pollen, seeds, and bones (animal and
human) from Roman times, reached a level comparable to that of late
eighteenth-century Europe. The climate of the Mediterranean basin, semi-
arid with little and unreliable rainfall, presented challenges. Moreover, an-
cient farmers used few labor-saving devices to help their work go faster or
easier, typically relying on the multi-purpose implements still common in
most gardeners’ sheds today, such as the shovel (rutrum), rake (rastrum),
hoe (sarculum), sickle (falx), pick (dolabra), and pitchfork (furca). Though
archaeologists have identified regional variations in the form and construc-
tion of these farming tools, made to accommodate particular types of crops
or soil, there seems to have been little innovation in terms of equipment, as
illustrated by the remarkable sameness of ploughshares (aratrum), for ex-
ample, over the course of hundreds of years. Such innovation would have
been usually cost-prohibitive, except for improvements in large-scale pro-
duction for the market, like pressing olives for oil and grapes for wine.
Farmers in the Roman world did experiment with plant and seed varieties,
breeds of animals, fertilizers, and such to improve output. Some prospered,
but evidence suggests that most struggled to stay afloat.
Besides men and women who owned and worked farmland, there were
thousands of persons who labored as shepherds; typically, they did so for
others who could actually afford to purchase the livestock. Herding was
perhaps the toughest kind of rural occupation. In Italy, as elsewhere in
the Mediterranean basin, this kind of work meant transhumance pasto-
ralism, that is, moving along with the herds of sheep or goats up into the
hill-country during warmer months and down into the slopes and valleys
during colder months of the year. In this semi-nomadic lifestyle, shepherds
usually lived in nothing more than wood and earthen shacks, sunken partly
into the ground, or perhaps small brick or stone buildings consisting of one
room for cooking and sleeping.
By Caesar’s time, at least in Italy, the independent, freeholder of a fam-
ily farm (typically in the range of four to twelve acres) competed with for-
eign imports, primarily grain from Sicily and North Africa, but especially
with the big ranchers and owners of estates (latifundiae) closer to home,
many of whom were members of the Roman Senate. Such men had access
to the highly developed and sophisticated methods of large-scale agricul-
ture as practiced in Greece, the Near East, and North Africa; local manu-
als on complex agriculture, like that by a Carthaginian named Mago, were
translated into Latin by the mid-second century BCE and inspired similar
works by Roman authors, like the famous agricultural handbook written
by senator M. Porcius Cato the Elder about a century before Caesar’s day
(and still relevant even then). According to Cato, a medium-sized senato-
rial estate covered close to 150 acres (not much by modern standards, but
14
Agriculture
considerably larger than the typical family farms, as seen earlier), consisted
of crop land, an orchard, barns for storage, presses for grapes and olives,
and employed twenty workers, including shepherds, swineherds, drivers,
carters, and farmworkers, all managed by supervisors; seasonal/temporary
laborers were also common. The owners of such estates sought to produce
wine, oil, and livestock on a large scale for sale on the open market, includ-
ing overseas; farming became big business for a huge profit and required
precision in methods, accounting, and even treatment of workers.
In the Late Republic, such establishments had considerably shoved aside
most small family-farmers, but not completely; archaeological remains con-
firm that there were still many family-farm dwellings in the countryside
and not as many wealthy villas as one might expect. Many farmers survived
by supplementing their own income as seasonal laborers on the estates or
turned their land over to frequently absentee landlords and remained on
the land themselves as tenant farmers. In addition, some moved temporar-
ily to nearby towns during the slower seasons of the year as day laborers or
craftsmen and then moved back again to the farm during the busier time
of year.
All or most of those employed on estates like the one described were
slaves by Caesar’s day. Scanty literary and archaeological evidence, the lat-
ter especially from cemeteries, suggests that in Italy alone slaves made up
perhaps one-third of the total population; in North Africa and the eastern
provinces of the empire, the proportion would have been much greater.
The vast majority lived and worked in the countryside. These agricultural
slaves, barely fed and clothed, led miserable lives, worked by their masters
or their supervisors as hard as possible, and often in chain gangs. Cato’s
handbook again vividly reveals the details.
Roman agriculture by the time of Julius Caesar had undergone consid-
erable changes, especially in terms of who was engaging in it and for what
purposes. This agricultural “revolution” of sorts then had dramatic impact
on other aspects of Roman society, such as politics (where senators became
much wealthier and more exploitative of the rural population), warfare
(often deliberately engaged in to increase the number of agricultural slaves
by bringing more prisoners of war to Italy), the overall economy (which
shifted significantly toward large-scale markets), and urban environments
(with large numbers of displaced rural people finding their only refuge in
terribly overcrowded and poor districts in cities like Rome itself). The agri-
cultural world continued to provide the underpinnings for larger develop-
ments in the empire and the consequent harsh realities greatly encouraged
the dream under the emperors of returning to the idyllic countryside.
See also: Food and Drink; Land Reform; Mediterranean Sea; Populares;
Senate; Trade
15
Further Reading
Barker, G., and J. Lloyd. 1991. Roman Landscapes. London: British School at
Rome.
Erdkamp, P. 2005. The Grain Market in the Roman Empire. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press.
Spurr, M. S. 1986. Arable Cultivation in Roman Italy. London: Society for the
Promotion of Roman Studies.
White, K. D. 1970. Roman Farming. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

In 52 BCE, during his wars in Gaul, Julius Caesar and the forces of Gallic
independence engaged in their most important military confrontation at
Alesia (modern Alise-Sainte Reine in eastern France). The geographical
and tactical circumstances of the engagement made it probably the most
famous of his career; his success in it brought an end to Gallic indepen-
dence, especially with the surrender of the Gauls’ chief warlord, Vercin-
getorix.
The town of Alesia was situated on a steep, high plateau, approximately
1,400 feet in elevation; it was the principal citadel of the Mandubii tribe, a
hill fort in the fashion typical of the Celtic populations of Gaul: a palisade
built of stone at the bottom and wood planks along the top protected a
collection of huts made of stone and dry mud. Extensive excavations since
the nineteenth century have confirmed much of the written account of the
battle site left by Caesar himself. Alesia was watered by two streams flowing
along the north and south sides of the hill, and was surrounded by other
hills of similar height, except on the western slope, where there was an
open plain. Having already confronted Caesar’s army once in open battle
and having been defeated at their hands, Vercingetorix of the Arverni, su-
preme leader of the largest coalition of Gallic forces in the largest rebellion
of the Gallic peoples against Caesar (and the encroachment of Roman rule
into their territory that he represented), had retreated to Alesia for refuge.
Vercingetorix had concentrated his forces in several camps on the east-
ern side of the hill, just below the plateau and town of Alesia itself, and
surrounded those camps with a ditch and a wall. Caesar, in his account
of the wars in Gaul, exaggerates the numbers of the enemy at something
approaching 80,000, probably to create a sufficient image of unbeatable
odds, considering that his army consisted of eight legions, approximately
40,000 men; however many Gauls there actually were, Caesar hoped to
starve them into submission by encircling the entire base of the plateau
with a siege wall eleven miles in length, manned by hundreds of guards and
surrounded by Roman forts and camps.
16
While the Roman soldiers were engaged in building up these siege

works, the Gallic cavalry provoked the Roman cavalry into a battle in the
plain along the western side of the hill; this went in the Gauls’ favor until
the Roman infantry and especially the German auxiliaries were brought
forward as if to counterstrike. This show of strength heartened the Roman
horsemen, who, together with the German troopers, drove the Gauls back
to their encampments in bloody panic.
To circumvent the Roman siege works while they were still incomplete, the
Gallic supreme commander dispatched all of his cavalry under the cover of
darkness; they had instructions to proceed to their homelands, inform their
peoples of the imminent danger to Vercingetorix and his remaining men, and
gather as many forces as possible to come to the rescue of Alesia. The hill fort
had sufficient stores of food for perhaps a month, under the strictest ration-
ing. That was all the time the messengers had to bring back help.
After their departure, Vercingetorix collected all the livestock, grain, and
other sources of food and brought all his men into the citadel of Alesia it-
self, whose population now lived under a sort of martial law. A long wait
began. In the meantime, Caesar had discovered what was afoot through
captured Gallic warriors and deserters from Alesia; he realized that he then
had to worry about Gallic forces inside Alesia trying to break out and those
who would try to rescue their comrades from outside.
To counter the former, Caesar made major modifications to his original
siege plans. First, a trench, twenty feet across at top and base was dug all
around the bottom of the plateau. Next, his men withdrew hundreds of
yards away from this ditch and dug two more, these a little narrower but
filled with water from the nearby streams. All this provided space and dis-
tance between themselves and the enemy, making for easier surveillance and
response to attacks. Finally, the Romans constructed a barrier of mound
and wooden palisade, protected on the outside also by rough branches and
watched over by guard towers every eighty feet.
Tremendous strength, skill, time, and manpower went into this ef-
fort, revealing not only the mettle of the Roman forces but also the de-
termination of their commander who could have withdrawn them to a
safer location and given up on the siege, but clearly would not stomach
the escape of the army of Vercingetorix. Still, his Gauls often tested the
Roman works, which meant that frequent attacks took place and equally
frequent Roman counterattacks took place. Caesar’s men may have had
safety behind their rampart but they also had little rest from working and
skirmishing.
He attempted to reduce their labors and stress by ordering his men to
put into place even more ingenious, indeed gruesome, obstacles for the
Gauls. In the No Man’s Land outside the Roman defenses, his soldiers dug
trenches and placed upright, highly sharpened tree trunks or limbs into
17
them; beyond these, in a sort of scattered pattern, they dug rows and rows
of pits in which they also positioned sharpened logs, but these were covered
over with brush. Lastly, near the outer rim of their defenses, they planted
wooden pegs topped with iron spikes. Caesar hoped that, if an enemy made
it over that ground without his horse slicing its hooves and legs on the iron
barbs, at least that enemy and his horse would find themselves impaled by
the other traps.
To counter a possible (i.e., likely) assault from outside Alesia, the Ro-
mans protected themselves in the rear by building an identical, but longer,
complex of defenses besides the original siege works. Within their ancient
“mine-fields” and twin palisades, they could feel prepared for attack from
the Gallic warriors in Alesia and from those outside, but they also were
caught between two siege walls. Caesar realized the dangers of this and the
need to be always ready to withdraw and so he ordered his men to keep
always one month’s supplies at hand while also continually practicing for
attack at any instant.
A month passed and still the Gallic reinforcements had not arrived and no
word from them had been received. Vercingetorix’s men were out of food
and their position appeared desperate. He held a council of war among the
leaders in his army, one of whom even suggested selective cannibalism as a
means of prolonging their survival and their resistance to Caesar. Most re-
garded this as a last resort. Instead, they kicked out from Alesia those con-
sidered physically incapable of fighting (children, women, the elderly, and
the ill), as well as the civilian population of the town; the warriors were de-
termined to wait for the reinforcements.
Already fending off the refugees, who appealed to Caesar and his men
for help and asylum, the Romans soon faced the supremely confident,
massive relieving army of Gallic infantry, cavalry, and archers under the
command of four powerful chiefs; Caesar, again certainly exaggerat-
ing the figures, gives their number at close to 250,000 Gauls. They en-
camped on a hill southwest of Alesia about a mile outside the Roman
defenses and then spread out over the plain between themselves and the
Roman position. Clearly visible from the heights of Alesia, the newcom-
ers’ arrival encouraged Vercingetorix’s men to again attack the Romans
from their side.
Caesar ordered his cavalry to engage the newcomers, and the bloody
battle lasted until nightfall; the Gallic archers caused most of the Roman ca-
sualties, until the German auxiliaries broke through and annihilated them.
Afterward, the Gauls lost heart and quickly retreated to their defenses, but
only temporarily. After making fresh preparations during the next day, they
attacked the Roman defenses that night, trying to dislodge the guards on
duty along the wall by firing massive numbers of sling darts, arrows, and
stones at them. From a distance, hurling their various projectiles, the Gauls
had more success than as they closed in on the Roman palisades, because
18
Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE)
then they encountered the pits, trenches, and sharp deterrent objects that
the Romans had concealed in the field of battle.
Vercingetorix’s men once again came down from the plateau to give the
Romans a war on two fronts but wasted too much time, such as in filling
up the wide and deep trench that blocked their path. By the time they were
truly ready to attack the Roman position, the Gallic reinforcements, hav-
ing suffered many wounds and deaths and not willing to fight in the day-
light, had already withdrawn again to their camps. Vercingetorix’s men also
pulled back, having accomplished nothing.
Having interrogated local people to get a better understanding of the
terrain and after carefully studying the Roman lines, the Gallic reinforce-
ments, backed up by their comrades inside Alesia, made one last assault,
all along the lines but especially against what they considered rightly the
Roman defense’s weakest point. Caesar and his lieutenants rallied all the
Roman troops but daringly concentrated forces where the Gauls from in-
side and outside were hitting hardest, especially northwest of the hill fort.
The Gallic warriors gravitated to that point when they saw Caesar per-
sonally involved; inspired by their commander’s presence, his own men
surrounded and slaughtered the Gallic force, including the war chief Ver-
cassivellaunus, a relation of Vercingetorix.
In the aftermath of this defeat, the remaining Gauls outside Alesia with-
drew and those inside decided to surrender their weapons and themselves
the next day; Caesar assigned the prisoners as hostages under the guard
of his own men, Vercingetorix especially to be held for future display in
Caesar’s triumphant return to Rome. Having received the formal capit-
ulation of the Gallic tribes, the Roman commander stationed his own
troops throughout Gaul in such a way as to demonstrate the final victory
of Rome.
See also: Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Germans; Siege-
craft; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Freeman, P. 2008. Julius Caesar. New York: Simon and Schuster.
Goldsworthy, A. 2006. Caesar: Life of a Colossus. New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press.

The Romans in general, as they built their empire and especially as they ab-
sorbed territories which Alexander III of Macedon, more familiarly Alex-
ander the Great, had once conquered and ruled, could not help but make
19
Bust of Alexander the Great from

Roman times, in the National
Archaeological Museum of
Naples, Italy (Library of Congress)
comparisons between their own achievements and his. They admired Megas
Alexandros very much, and his legacy became something to quarrel over in
the closing generation of the Republic.
Three major figures especially associated themselves with Alexander in
the period of the Late Republic. One was Caesar’s chief rival in Rome,
Pompey. Ever since the dictator Sulla had dubbed him “the Great” (mag-
nus in Latin) at the age of twenty-five, people in the Roman world had
looked for reasons to justify the label in connection to the original. They
spoke of how similar Pompey and Alexander looked (though no one who
has seen the surviving images of the two men would think so today), es-
pecially in terms of their thick heads of hair and its somewhat tousled ap-
pearance. They spoke of how young they both were when they scored
their military achievements (though most of Pompey’s accolades belong to
his thirties and forties, whereas Alexander’s belong to his twenties). They
spoke of how Pompey had triumphed over populations in all three of the
known continents, Africa, Europe, and Asia (which did gibe with Alex-
ander’s record). They spoke of how fortunate he had been in all his mili-
tary endeavors and how unfortunate afterward when he returned home to
20
civilian life (which again does match Alexander’s career highs and lows).
Regardless of any inconsistencies, Pompey played up the alleged parallels
and formally incorporated the title Magnus into his name, passing it on to
his sons as well.
Another claimant to the legacy of Alexander the Great was Queen
Cleopatra VII of Egypt. This should come as no surprise. After all, Cleopa-
tra directly descended from one of Alexander’s best generals and closest
friends, Ptolemy I, who himself had generations before considered assum-
ing Alexander’s mantle of leadership. When he was still living, Alexander
himself had laid out the new city on the shores of Egypt that would be
the first named after him, Alexandria; this was Cleopatra’s capital and in
it stood Alexander’s tomb, complete with his mummified remains inside.
Perhaps during her involvement with Julius Caesar, and definitely during
her long relationship with Marc Antony, she conceived the very real pos-
sibility of restoring the empire of “the Great One,” with her own kingdom
at the center.
The earliest attested illustration of what Julius Caesar thought of Alex-
ander the Great comes from his time in Spain. Caesar had gone there in
69 BCE to serve as quaestor, that is, financial officer, for the governor of
southern Spain (Further Spain, as Romans called it). His commander sent
him on a tour of local communities to collect taxes for Rome. According
to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar paid homage to one of the
local gods, Melqart, whom the Romans knew as Hercules, on his official
visit to the city of Cádiz (Gades to the Romans). Inside the temple to this
deity, his guides showed Caesar a statue of Alexander the Great. Seeing the
hero’s image, and especially, one would imagine, so far from Greece, he
sighed, deeply upset. The Greek biographer, Plutarch, tells the story a bit
differently, asserting that Caesar was reading a history text about Alexan-
der when his friends found him crying over it. However it happened, both
authors agree that what disturbed Caesar so much was how he himself had
accomplished very little thus far in his life, even though he was just about
the same age as Alexander when the latter died, having by then practically
conquered the world.
Caesar made up for lost time from that incident onward. His real-life ad-
ventures, like the conquest of Gaul, the invasions of Britain and Germany,
crossing over “impossible” barriers like the “Outer Ocean,” all contributed
to his reputation as a second Alexander. Furthermore, stories circulated in
the Roman Empire about his plans to carry Roman arms beyond the Black
Sea and the Caspian Sea, to absorb Parthia (roughly Iraq and Iran today)
and all of Germania (i.e., central and eastern Europe), perhaps even to
march through India to the “edge of the world.” Truthful or not, these
tales suggested a dream to outdo Alexander, to conquer and unite even
more of the world than he had.
21
Not surprisingly, modern authors have made much of the similarities be-
tween the career achievements and the world power of Julius Caesar and
Alexander. Of course, ancient authors already started this train of thought.
Plutarch (as previously noted), writing almost a century and a half after
Caesar’s death and over four centuries after Alexander’s, composed pairs of
parallel biographies of famous Greeks and Romans. He chose Caesar and
Alexander as one of those pairs, creating a separate sketch of each man’s
life as well as an essay explicitly comparing the two. Unfortunately, the lat-
ter does not survive. About the same time, the historian Appian of Alexan-
dria included a comparison of the two generals within his extensive account
of Rome’s history. For Appian, Caesar and Alexander were both blessed
by Fortune above other men and were practically divine in their abilities;
they possessed more desire for honor and greater skill in war than anyone
else, throwing themselves even bodily into danger, rapidly putting their
thoughts into action, placing themselves in the hands of luck and daring as
much as strategy. They both also came to grief, thanks to their shared dis-
regard of religious omens.
Alexander the Great and his achievements set the standard for the defini-
tion of ultimate greatness in the ancient Mediterranean world. Generals, like
Pompey and Caesar, competed in surpassing Megas Alexandros. Monarchs,
like Cleopatra, dreamed of re-creating his realm. Such competition and such
dreaming placed one on a collision course with others, where there could
emerge no compromise. Octavian, the adopted son of Julius Caesar, for in-
stance, proclaimed himself the defender of the Roman Empire against the
aggrandizement of Cleopatra. Victorious over her and Marc Antony at the
age of thirty-three (the same age at which Alexander had died), Caesar Octa-
vian visited the tomb of the great hero, literally coming face-to-face with his
mummy and crowning it with gold and an offering of flowers, almost his own
personal ritual of succession. In an ironic twist of fate, he, as Augustus, the
first emperor of Rome, laid claim to the legacy of Alexander much more firmly
than Pompey, Caesar, Cleopatra, or anyone else, had ever managed to do.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE);
Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Ocean; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Reli-
gion, Roman; Spain
Further Reading
Carter, J. 1996. Appian: The Civil Wars. New York: Penguin Publishing.
Cartledge, P. 2004. Alexander the Great. New York: Random House.
Foster, H. B. 2010. Dio’s Roman History in Six Volumes. Alvin, TX: Halcyon Press
Ltd.
Press.
22
Alexandria
Graves, R. 2007. Suetonius: The Twelve Caesars. New York: Penguin Publishing.
Green, P. 1991. Alexander of Macdeon, 356–323 B.C. Berkeley and Los Angeles:
University of California Press.
Seager, R., and R. Warner. 2006. Plutarch, Fall of the Roman Republic. London
and New York: Penguin.
Alexandria
Julius Caesar first visited Alexandria in 48 BCE, in pursuit of his defeated
rival, Pompey. Founded by Alexander the Great on the Mediterranean
coast of Egypt (west of the Nile delta) in 331 BCE and developed by his suc-
cessors, the Ptolemies, who ruled from there, Alexandria had become by
Caesar’s day the largest city in the ancient world, as well as one of the most
important for trade and culture, and one of the most diverse.
Scholars estimate that Alexandria’s population stood at nearly one mil-
lion when Caesar arrived there. The inhabitants included not only thou-
sands of Greeks and Egyptians but also Jews, Syrians, Libyans, Nubians,
and many others; for example, some 200,000 Jews lived there, eagerly
adopting Greek language and studying Greek culture, producing lots of lit-
erature in Greek, such as the Greek translation of the Old Testament called
the Septuagint, gaining special legal and commercial privileges from the
Ptolemies, and maintaining their own cultural and religious traditions in
the most famous synagogue of the ancient world.
Alexandria by Cornelis de Bruyn. This print, from the English translation of his
work, A Voyage to the Levant, 1702, provides an excellent view of ships in the Great
Harbor. (Wellcome Library, London)
23
Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE)
The city possessed two, huge man-made harbors that received ships from
across the Mediterranean, guided in by one of the “Seven Wonders of the
World,” the great Lighthouse or Pharos. Nearby, the Ptolemies had con-
structed a remarkable library and a museum (a research center), to go along
with it. Archaeologists continue to uncover remains of the ancient city,
both under more modern constructions and underwater.
The Ptolemies ruled Egypt from Alexandria for nearly 300 years, but the
people of Alexandria remained fiercely independent; to keep them pacified
and obedient, the Ptolemies granted them privileges, such as autonomy
at the local level (which meant that the citizens of Alexandria coined their
own money, collected their own taxes, voted on their own laws, elected
their own officials and ruling council, etc.). But by the time Caesar arrived
in Alexandria chasing after Pompey, the royal family had revoked many of
these privileges; the Alexandrians had proved too rebellious or had favored
members of the Ptolemy family who lost in the royal civil wars of the first
century BCE. The palatial compound had become a site of much fighting,
and this was also true for Caesar himself, who defended himself there in his
promotion of Cleopatra VII.
See also: Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Egypt
Further Reading
Fraser, P. M. 1972. Ptolemaic Alexandria. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
Alexandrian War
(Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE)
In the midst of the Civil War being waged between the Roman generals,
Julius Caesar and Pompey, the Alexandrian War involved the former di-
rectly in the dynastic struggles within the royal family of Egypt, the Ptol-
emies. It almost derailed his victory in the Civil War thus far, introduced
him to the famous queen, Cleopatra VII, and further solidified the position
of Rome as the arbiter in Egyptian affairs.
After his defeat at the Battle of Pharsalus in the summer of 48 BCE, Cae-
sar’s chief rival, Pompey, fled for refuge and to consider his options. He
took ship across the sea, first to the island of Lesbos, then to Cilicia (south-
eastern Turkey), and the island of Cyprus, hoping to make his way to the
Roman province of Syria, which he had, in fact, added to the empire not
many years before. Unfortunately, the population of Antioch, the princi-
pal city of Syria, declared against him; finding such unfriendliness among
the provincials, he turned to the Roman tax collectors in the region, the
24
publicani, and pressed them into providing as much money and as much
manpower as they could for his cause, and then sailed off to Egypt, where
he was sure the royal children of his old friend, King Ptolemy Auletes,
would assist him.
East of the Nile delta, at the town of Pelusium, Pompey landed his ships
to find that two of Auletes’s children, Ptolemy XIII and Cleopatra VII,
were engaged in Civil War; serving young Ptolemy were a number of
Roman soldiers left behind by A. Gabinius, former governor of Syria, who
had helped Auletes regain his kingdom after a revolution. These soldiers
favored Pompey’s request for asylum and conveyed their feelings to young
Ptolemy’s advisors, who actually ran Egypt at the time. Those advisors,
however, concocted a scheme of their own, through which they used a
Roman officer, L. Septimius, personally acquainted with Pompey, to lure
the latter from his ship to the shore; en route in a small boat, Septimius
killed Pompey. The young Ptolemy’s advisors seem to have feared that the
Roman general would seize control of Egypt for his purposes in the war
against Caesar, throwing them out of power.
Caesar, meanwhile, had hurried after Pompey’s trail and arrived in Al-
exandria, the capital of Egypt. There he learned of Pompey’s murder four
days earlier, and it turned out that he, not Pompey, soon presented the
feared threat to the Egyptian leadership. The soldiers garrisoning Alexan-
dria (most of them probably Romans again) greeted Caesar with great en-
thusiasm, which provoked disturbances among the populace, who killed a
number of those soldiers to indicate that they did not favor the Roman gen-
eral’s presence. He responded by sending messengers to gather reinforce-
ments from the eastern provinces, since he had decided to remain in Egypt
until the disputes within the royal family had been resolved.
As a representative of Rome, Caesar had the right, according to the will
of Ptolemy Auletes, to intervene and settle matters between young Ptol-
emy and Cleopatra. As soon as Cleopatra met Caesar, however, he began
to favor her cause, which angered the population of Alexandria, who sup-
ported her brother; he further angered them by demanding payment of a
debt owed to Rome by the dead king.
The Roman general had both brother and sister in his “custody” when
he discovered not only that the Alexandrians had risen against him but
also that the young king’s military advisor, Achillas, had brought the
multiethnic royal army back from Pelusium to attack Caesar’s meager
force (outnumbered by their enemies nearly six to one). Caesar could
only hold on to a segment of the city of Alexandria, while the rest was
occupied quickly by Achillas’s forces. In the neighborhoods surround-
ing the royal palace, the opposing troops engaged in bitter street fight-
ing; when the Egyptian troops also attempted to seize the seventy or so
warships in the Great Harbor, the Romans desperately prevented them,
25
Caesar ordering, in the process, the burning of all those vessels and the
dockyards (the resulting fire, in fact, spread further onshore, engulfing
the famed Library of Alexandria). He also dispatched soldiers across the
water to the island of Pharos, where they secured control of the famed
lighthouse that monitored entry into the Great Harbor; he needed to
keep open his only conduit to reinforcements and fresh supplies from
across the sea.
Over the next several days, his men turned the neighborhoods which
they held into a fortified camp; they hunkered down for a long conflict.
Over the following weeks, they expanded in all directions (but especially
southward to the freshwater marshes) by defeating local resistance forces
and destroying blocks of homes and businesses with battering rams and
other devices. These operations created a Roman zone of control right
in the center of Alexandria, compelling Caesar’s forces to defend them-
selves both to the west and to the east, and, indeed, to keep a watchful eye
on the many Alexandrians; Caesar had allowed them to remain inside the
Roman zone because they were supposedly loyal. In the meantime, the
Alexandrian population outside this zone cooperated fully with the royal
army, which had grown in size from fresh recruits coming in (willingly or
not) from all over Egypt; the city literally bristled with fighting men and
weapons all around the Roman position and the local people developed a
strong determination to eliminate the Roman influence in their kingdom
once and for all. Even from the flat rooftops of the city, they launched ar-
rows, slingshot, firebrands, and javelins against the Romans, who repaid
them in kind. The Alexandrian conflict had become a patriotic one for the
local citizens.
Palace intrigue on the Egyptian side had, in the meantime, led to the
murder of the military commander, Achillas, at the hands of Ganymede,
who worked for another of the royal children, Arsinoë. She hoped to rule
Egypt herself and assigned Ganymede to Achillas’s post. The latter began
new operations against the Romans, employing sophisticated methods to
pollute the underground water supply in their zone; this sent them into a
panic until Caesar ordered his men to dig new wells for fresh water (which
they did successfully) and reassured them of incoming supplies by sea,
which did arrive two days later.
When the Egyptian fleet attempted to prevent the joining up of Cae-
sar’s ships with the new arrivals, they suffered a defeat at the hands of the
Romans along the coast west of Alexandria. This did not, however, deter
Caesar’s opponents from building up new ships in the Eunostos Harbor,
divided from the Great Harbor by a long causeway that connected Alexan-
dria to Pharos Island; it had become clear that Caesar’s advantage of con-
trolling the Great Harbor had to be taken away from him by means of naval
warfare.
26
Caesar made the first move by sending his fleet out and around Pharos to
face his enemy’s ships in Eunostos Harbor. The battle, witnessed from the
roofs of the city by spectators on both sides, was carried out with great skill
and bravery by all involved; the Egyptian ships had the advantage of nearby
support coming from the island of Pharos. To stifle this, Caesar dispatched
troops to take the island; thousands of Pharians were captured or killed.
A new battle, involving ships and ground troops, ensued from this for con-
trol of the causeway that linked Pharos to Alexandria; the fighting became
so desperate that Caesar’s soldiers retreated from the scene in great disarray.
Many sought refuge on Caesar’s own ship, causing it to sink under excess
weight; he escaped only by jumping overboard and swimming to another
vessel.
In the meantime, the street fighting within Alexandria continued un-
abated. The weary citizens lost faith in Princess Arsinoë and asked Caesar
to release young Ptolemy XIII, promising, deceitfully, to surrender if he did
so. Caesar preferred to negotiate (or continue the war, if needed) with a
king as his enemy rather than a princess, and so complied with their wishes.
Ptolemy continued the war instead of ending it, but not for long. Rein-
forcements for the Romans arrived overland from the eastern provinces,
led by a friend of Caesar’s called Mithradates of Pergamum. He captured
Pelusium and his troops streamed into the Nile delta.
Ptolemy sent ground troops to stop the advance of Mithradates, but
these were defeated. Then, he proceeded against the invader himself, but
so did Caesar depart Alexandria to link up with Mithradates. The Romans
attacked Ptolemy’s camp from multiple directions; fierce fighting ensued
until the Egyptian forces found themselves overwhelmed and the survivors
scattered for safety. Ptolemy himself escaped but reports reached Caesar
that he had later died onboard a ship that sank at sea. The people of Alex-
andria surrendered in abject supplication to Caesar on his triumphant re-
turn to their city.
Caesar remained in Egypt for another three months before continuing
the Civil War against Pompey’s supporters. In that time, he decreed that
Cleopatra VII (by then his lover) and her other brother, Ptolemy XIV (then
aged twelve), should rule Egypt jointly, while Arsinoë was sent into exile.
On his departure for Syria, the Roman general left behind some of his own
troops to guarantee these arrangements.
The Alexandrian War presented an unexpected interlude in the larger
Civil War among the Romans between the so-called Pompeian and Caesar-
ian factions. Practically six months were “lost,” during which time, even
without their leader, the Pompeians rose again to continue the fight against
Caesar. Some believed that they could win, while others believed that it did
not matter as long as they died trying. In other words, for the Romans,
the interlude in Egypt meant no quick end to their civil strife. As for Egypt
27
Ambiorix
itself, the Alexandrian War meant the rise of the very ambitious and seduc-
tive Cleopatra to virtually full power, and that, plus her close relationship
with Caesar (and later Marc Antony), would lead to the head-on collision
of her kingdom and the Roman Empire (in the person of Caesar’s heir Oc-
tavian).
See also: Alexandria; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cleopatra
(d. 30 BCE); Egypt; Egyptians; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Provinces; Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE); Ptolemy XIII
(d. 47 BCE)
Further Reading
Bowman, A. K. 1989. Egypt after the Pharaohs 332 B.C.–A.D. 642. 2nd ed. Berkeley
and Los Angeles: University of California Press.
Carter, J. 1997. Caesar: The Civil War. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Fraser, P. M. 1972. Ptolemaic Alexandria. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Press.
Kleiner, D. 2005. Cleopatra and Rome. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Ambiorix
About four years into Julius Caesar’s military expansion into the region the
Romans called Gallia Comata (“long-haired Gaul,” that is, today’s cen-
tral and northern France, as well as southwestern Holland, Belgium, Lux-
emburg, and western Germany), his forces faced a serious local rebellion
led, in part, by one of his own allies, Ambiorix. As in other cases of revolt
against Rome, Ambiorix and his people chafed under foreign domination,
and their attempt to break the Roman yoke failed, but not without signifi-
cant cost to Caesar’s army.
Having returned to northern Gaul from his second expedition across
the sea into Britain, Caesar established his troops in a wide circle of win-
ter camps within the portion of Gaul known as Belgica (modern Belgium
and southwestern Holland). By doing so, he kept the populations of this
region, which he had only recently subdued, under some sort of watch and
also tested their new loyalty to Rome by requiring each of the tribes to pro-
vide basic foodstuffs to his winter camps. One of those camps housed one
legion of fresh recruits from Italy as well as half a legion’s worth of other
soldiers under the joint command of two of Caesar’s legates, Q. Titurius
Sabinus and L. Aurunculeius Cotta; their camp was laid out in the center
of the lands of the Eburones, a Gallo-German tribe (i.e., living in Gaul but
primarily of Germanic ethnicity), then led by two chiefs, Catuvolcus and
28
Ambiorix
Ambiorix. According to Caesar’s own account, they each ruled half of the
Eburonian territory, but both pledged allegiance to Rome, having received
from Caesar their people’s liberation from the powerful Aduatuci tribe,
which had meant the restoration of Eburonian hostages (including Ambi-
orix’s own son and nephew) as well as the ending of Eburonian tribute to
the Aduatuci. Both Catuvolcus and Ambiorix worked together to provide
for the Roman camp, in gratitude to Caesar.
Ambiorix apparently resented Rome’s interference in local affairs, how-
ever, like other leaders in the region (e.g., Indutiomarus of the Treveri),
and persuaded Catuvolcus to attack together the winter camp of Sabinus
and Cotta two weeks after its establishment. Their first assault failed, after
which Ambiorix turned to trickery; he convinced representatives from the
camp that his recent action had been forced upon him by a much wider
popular movement of independence against the Romans throughout Gaul;
in fact, he lied that even mercenaries from across the Rhine in Germany
were on their way to aid this massive uprising. Ambiorix insisted that he
had no further quarrel with the Romans, but that they must evacuate
the area, through which he would guarantee them safe passage. Though
the two Roman commanders, and a number of their officers, found diffi-
culty in agreeing on how to respond to all this, in the end, the view of Sa-
binus that the Eburones would not have dared such an attack without an
onslaught of other tribes to back them up, and that the best course of ac-
tion for the troops under his command was to leave their camp and journey
to join one of the others, won out.
This was exactly what Ambiorix had hoped for. He positioned his own
men to ambush the Roman column at either end of a gorge through which
it had to pass. At first, the Eburones went in for courageous close fighting,
but Ambiorix ordered them to pull back, to rely on their throwing spears,
and especially to attack the Roman cohorts from three sides whenever the
latter pulled forward for a sortie. Regardless of their attempts to fend off
their attackers over a period of perhaps four or five hours, and despite the
large numbers of Eburones thus killed, the Romans appeared outmatched.
Sabinus decided to negotiate with Ambiorix; the latter arranged a confer-
ence at which Sabinus and a number of his officers were unwittingly sur-
rounded and slaughtered. The badly wounded Cotta led the remainder of
his men in a last stand, in which most of them fell. Some of those who sur-
vived the fight managed to escape to Labienus, another of Caesar’s com-
manders, thus spreading news of the disaster; the rest took refuge in their
old camp, two miles from the battle site, where they committed suicide to
avoid capture.
In the aftermath of his complete victory, Ambiorix incited other neigh-
boring tribes, especially the Nervii, to rise up against Roman power; to-
gether with the Eburones and the Aduatuci, they launched a fierce attack
29
Ambiorix
upon the Roman encampment in Nervian territory, which was commanded

by Caesar’s legate, Q. Tullius Cicero. He did not abandon his camp under
any false promises of truce, however, and his forces defended themselves
until reinforcements under Caesar could arrive.
Nevertheless, almost the entire region of Belgica was now in revolt
against Caesar, and Ambiorix was still on the loose. Caesar first decided
to isolate the Eburones by launching preemptive strikes into the lands of
the tribes with whom the latter had the most friendly relations, that is, the
Menapii to the north and the Treveri to the south; by harassing and beat-
ing these tribes into submission, demanding hostages, and ransacking their
territories, all as a warning not to aid Ambiorix in any way, Caesar also at-
tempted to deprive him of the most convenient hiding places in the region,
the marshlands of the coast of southwestern Holland and the Ardennes
forest. Caesar even led his forces across the Rhine River into Germany, the
second time he had done so, to remind the tribes there not to interfere in
his operations against Ambiorix.
Ambiorix responded to this by ordering his people to scatter in all direc-
tions, to hide from the Romans however and wherever they could; they,
after all, knew the region much better than the Romans did. Catuvolcus
could not handle the strain of what he regarded as a disaster for their tribe,
and so took his own life by poison. Ambiorix’s decision, however, had great
merit, since his warriors could lash out at the Roman patrols from the most
concealed locations and then disappear, seemingly without trace. The Ro-
mans would suffer losses with little chance of retaliation.
Caesar eventually addressed this by a most devastating strategy of his
own; he invited anyone who wished from the neighboring tribes to enter
Eburonian territory and grab whatever loot they could. Their homes,
fields, cattle, everything was handed over to plunder by masses of foreign
tribesmen, and what was left of their villages was burnt to the ground. The
Romans thoroughly subdued the Eburones by these means, leaving any
survivors with nothing to return to, but they never succeeded in capturing
Ambiorix. His fate remained a mystery.
See also: Army; Britain; Camps; Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE); Gaul/Gallia
Comata; Germans; Labienus (d. 45 BCE)
Further Reading
Long, F. P. 2005. Caesar. The Conquest of Gaul. New York: Barnes and Noble,
Inc.
Roymans, N. 1990. Tribal Societies in Northern Gaul. Amsterdam: Amsterdam
University Press.
30
Ambitus/Bribery
Thompson, E. A. 1965. The Early Germans. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Todd, M. 1992. The Early Germans. London: Wiley-Blackwell.
California Press.
Ambitus/Bribery
Electoral bribery or ambitus was a widespread problem in the politics of the
Late Roman Republic. Julius Caesar himself engaged in it, as did his prin-
cipal colleagues and rivals.
Roman society always condoned and indeed encouraged candidates for
public office to cultivate potential voters in a variety of ways. In fact, one of
the main reasons that wealthier citizens gathered around themselves large
numbers of clients (men and women who were somehow indebted to those
wealthier citizens) was to have available a significant pool of supportive vot-
ers; it was expected that your patron might call in the favors he had done
for you by asking you to vote for him. Tradition expected that a candidate
for office would honor and show friendship by distributing “gifts” espe-
cially among his fellow tribesmen, the citizens who belonged to the same
voting delegation as he did in the various Popular Assemblies, particularly
the Comitia Tributa and the Concilium Plebis.
The Roman elite did, however, consider certain promises, favors, gifts,
and activities inappropriate on the part of political candidates. For example,
though distributing money among fellow tribesmen was fine and, in fact,
socially demanded, doing so among the other tribes of Rome was deemed
illegal and bad form. The blatant handing out of large amounts of money
to bribe voters to one’s side during the actual election process received
most severe condemnation.
Livy, an important Roman historian, suggests that there were laws in
place to curb such actions as early as the fourth century BCE, and certain
evidence for such laws exists from the second century BCE onward. It is
hard to tell whether Roman politicians sought to curb a growing problem
at elections or simply make a name for themselves as men of honesty by
proposing such laws. Certainly by 115 BCE, they had set up their first per-
manent court (quaestio perpetua) to hear cases of ambitus; Caesar’s uncle,
Marius, before he had become famous as a general, stood accused before
the court that year. Details of its procedures and rulings, however, remain
unclear. Three decades later, the dictator L. Cornelius Sulla apparently
made changes to the court, for instance, by declaring that a convicted in-
dividual was prohibited from canvassing for any election for a period of
ten years.
31
Ambitus/Bribery
In Caesar’s day, sweeping reforms, and promises of reform, and even de-
crees of the Senate took place, against ambitus; such laws came to be more
and more specific, especially regarding the penalties imposed on the con-
victed. The reform of consul C. Calpurnius Piso in 67 BCE defined ambitus
not just as money distributed directly by the candidate but also as money
distributed by individual agents and groups of people operating on the can-
didate’s behalf; convicted candidates were also prohibited from ever stand-
ing for any office again. M. Tullius Cicero, when he served as consul in
63 BCE, put in place firmer guidelines for the ambitus court and tightened
the language defining what was considered electoral bribery, including
money and other incentives to vote for the candidate, such as lavish dinner
parties and gladiatorial spectacles; under his reform, accused candidates had
to show up at trial or suffer a fine, while convicted candidates were exiled
from Rome for a period of ten years. Nearly a decade later, in 55 BCE, the
consul M. Licinius Crassus tightened the restrictions on groups of peo-
ple, especially social or religious associations known as sodalitates or colle-
gia, that were specifically organized or used specially for the distribution of
bribes, and included intimidation of voters in the ambitus court’s purview.
He also improved the selection of the four judges who sat on the court; the
plaintiff chose the judges from across the voting districts of the city center
and the defendant could reject only one of these representative judges.
The plethora of laws against electoral bribery give an indication of the
continuing prevalence of the problem in the Late Republic; enacted leg-
islation seemed to have no effectiveness. Certainly, Caesar made a name
for himself for the extraordinary amounts of money he spent, the gifts he
gave, and the spectacular events he threw to win over not only the common
voters but also members of the Senate. He might never have been elected
praetor and especially consul otherwise, and he could not have postponed
the Civil War with Pompey without “persuading” his fellow senators by the
same method. His most vociferous opponents among the Optimates, like
Cato, severely criticized him for “buying” the People, and then did pretty
much the same themselves, fighting fire with fire, for example, to get Cato’s
son-in-law, Bibulus, elected consul alongside Caesar. No matter how much
one might have opposed electoral corruption on principle, ambitus was a
fact of life that had to be employed to remain in the political arena.
See also: Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Collegia; Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Elections; Optimates; Patrons
and Clients; Popular Assemblies; Populares; Sulla (ca.138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Harries, J. 2007. Law and Crime in the Roman World. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
32
American Caesar
Staveley, E. S. 1972. Greek and Roman Voting and Elections. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press.
Taylor, L. R. 1966. Roman Voting Assemblies. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan
Press.
American Caesar: Douglas MacArthur

(Manchester) (Book 1978/
Documentary 1983)
Historian William Manchester’s biography of American general, Douglas
MacArthur, as well as the documentary miniseries into which it was con-
verted (containing many interviews with the author himself) for The His-
tory Channel only a few years later, depicts a paradoxical, puzzling military
man who hated war yet saw in it the best opportunity to fulfill one’s duty
to country and achieve personal immortality. Both book and documentary
chronicle MacArthur’s life story, with primary, though not exclusive, focus
on his military experiences. Manchester appears to have titled his book
American Caesar primarily because he regarded MacArthur as the greatest
general the United States had ever produced and Julius Caesar as the great-
est general ancient Rome ever produced.
Such overall conclusions are, not surprisingly, quite debatable. Yet certain
of MacArthur’s qualities do surface from the book and the documentary
as closely parallel to those of Caesar’s, perhaps legitimizing Manchester’s
title. Both generals wished to be viewed as dutiful soldiers of their nations;
as patriotic citizens; as generous, inspiring, and heroic. Just as MacArthur
fervently embraced a nineteenth-century enthusiasm for combat, total vic-
tory, and the absolute authority of generals (modeling himself in some ways
on Napoleon), Caesar sought to compete with famous victors of Rome’s
past and especially with the outstanding general of all ancient history, Al-
exander the Great. MacArthur and Caesar both craved honor; both disre-
garded orders when these interfered with their attempts at fame; both seem
to have considered themselves always in the right, in spite of their critics.
They were both supremely confident and sometimes arrogant. This some-
times led MacArthur and Caesar to move so recklessly into combat that
they neglected the logistical necessities of their armies and placed them in
the position of being unnecessarily surrounded by the enemy (as the former
did in the Philippines, for example, and the latter in western Greece and
North Africa). In the most challenging circumstances, though, they both
came through with personal bravery and encouragement on the ground
among their men.
33
American Caesar
General Douglas MacArthur signs as Supreme Allied Commander during formal

surrender ceremonies on the USS MISSOURI in Tokyo Bay (September 2, 1945).
(Department of Defense).
Yet, Manchester characterizes MacArthur, for all his effective constitu-

tional work in Japan at the close of World War II, as otherwise an inept pol-
itician, especially unable to handle the machinations of Washington, D.C.
Certainly, no one could label Caesar as inept in that way, for he was one
of Rome’s consummate politicians, a model for others to emulate. Man-
chester also describes MacArthur as a man of many contradictions; only by
reconciling these can one understand the man, he asserts. Again, Caesar’s
character and behavior display remarkable consistency across his lifetime
and across his fields of endeavor; he was no bundle of contradictions, es-
pecially in the eyes of his enemies who saw even more clearly than he did,
perhaps, what he was after in politics and warfare. No soldier of Caesar’s
regarded him as worthy of hatred, which MacArthur often engendered
among his men, making him more like several of Caesar’s opponents. No
one in the ancient world considered Caesar any more egotistical than his
peers, again unlike MacArthur; indeed, in that regard, and in terms of his
vanity, his craving of accolades, and his sense of destiny, MacArthur more
34
Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE)
closely resembles Caesar’s adversaries, such as the dictator Sulla or espe-

cially his chief rival, Pompey. Finally, MacArthur’s fascination with glorious
death in battle and his rejection of retreat even as a strategic measure (until
Korea) match up more with his Japanese counterparts than with the view-
point of Julius Caesar, who certainly utilized all sorts of tactics to avoid bat-
tle, including getting out of the battle zone when it was to his advantage
to do so, and held as a point of pride his reports to the Roman Senate on
how few of his men died in combat as opposed to the enemy dead. Caesar
appreciated the usefulness of fear and caution in the makeup of an effective
commander, while MacArthur would have rejected such things outright.
Clearly, connections abound between Julius Caesar and Douglas MacAr-
thur, as Manchester demonstrates, such as courage, ambition, great military
skill, and a strong touch of the renegade. One would expect such things
from highly successful commanders. The parallel should not be taken too
far, however. In the final analysis, the real Caesar (rather than the legend)
was very much a man of his time, who faced competitors not unlike himself
in terms of values, goals, and even abilities; many of them were also coura-
geous, ambitious, and skillful renegades. MacArthur, though, seems to have
been from a different time than his own, fighting the battles of World War II
and Korea in a style reminiscent of the far past, with really no contempo-
raries on the same wavelength. History remembers Caesar as a victor, but
he might not have been, since he met his match over and over again and
just barely overcame them; MacArthur’s “rivals” were his father and other
famous generals of the old days, and perhaps also himself, rather than fellow
contenders for ultimate power.
See also: Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE); Army; Dictator; Extraor-
dinary Commands; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Military Discipline; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Ayers, E. L. et al. eds. 2004. American Passages: A History of the United States. Bel-
mont, CA: Thomson-Wadsworth.
Manchester, W. 1978. American Caesar: Douglas MacArthur, 1880–1964. New
York: Little and Brown.

Today, anyone with a smattering of knowledge of the Roman world would
recognize the name of Marc Antony (Marcus Antonius in Latin). One of
Julius Caesar’s younger cousins, Antony attached himself to the former’s
35
Silver Denarius of Marc Antony, 32–31 BCE. Minted in Greece to pay his
troops in the campaign against Octavian at Actium, coins such as this
honored Antony’s fleet and revealed his official titles (AUG for his priest-
hood as an augur and IIIVIR RPC for tresvir rei republicae constituendae,
triumvir for the restoration of the Republic). (Art Media/Print Collector/
Getty Images)
rising star, becoming a trusted lieutenant and a friend. His close associa-
tion with Caesar, combined with his own talents and his relationship with
Cleopatra, brought Antony very close to achieving the most powerful posi-
tion over the Roman world.
Young Antony lost his father (sarcastically nicknamed Creticus, “con-
queror of Crete”), when he was about ten years old; his mother, Julia, had
a respected reputation and saw to the upbringing of her three sons (he had
two younger brothers, Caius and Lucius). Much of what we otherwise know
about his youth comes filtered through sources hostile to Antony, which
label him as an undisciplined drunk and troublemaker. Unfortunately, such
36
Denarius showing the face of Marc Antony, 41 BCE. Minted by Barbatius Pollio, his
paymaster in Ephesus, Turkey, this silver coin indicates Antony’s positions as impera-
tor (IMP), augur (AUG), and triumvir for the restoration of the Republic (IIIVIR
RPC). (CM Dixon/Print Collector/Getty Images)
labels were often freely attached by more conservative Romans to men of

Antony’s generation, like Clodius and Curio, who may indeed have been
experimenting with a more liberated lifestyle than approved of by their par-
ents, but still not as nefarious as the older generation made it out to be.
Antony’s proclivity toward romantic entanglements (we might call him a
Roman Romeo) may also be exaggerated in the sources, though perhaps
this rings more true than other accusations.
Certainly, Antony displayed great courage and skill, as well as charismatic
leadership, on the battlefield, something all Romans could respect. In his
37
late twenties, he demonstrated such qualities as an officer of Gabinius, both

in the suppression of a Jewish rebellion and in the restoration of Ptolemy
Auletes (father of Cleopatra) to his throne in Egypt. Fellow soldiers prac-
tically worshipped Antony as the embodiment of Hercules (an image he
loved to play up), so physically strong, so generous, so cool and confident,
so much “one of the guys.”
Returning from Egypt in 54 BCE, Antony came to serve Julius Caesar
two years later; certainly, the young, ambitious man saw in his cousin’s
exploits in Gaul (roughly modern France) an opportunity for further mili-
tary achievements. In 49 BCE, the fateful year that witnessed the start of
Civil War between Caesar and Pompey, Antony held one of the plebe-
ian tribunates and, along with Q. Cassius (cousin of the famous assas-
sin), strenuously defended Caesar’s reputation and actions and declared
his veto against the decree of the Senate that labeled Caesar a threat to
the Republic. The Optimates (hard-line traditionalists within the Senate)
ejected Antony and Cassius from the Senate and chased them out of Rome
on pain of death; their flight to Caesar’s camp in northern Italy for protec-
tion gave the latter the justification he needed to pose as the defender of
the People’s spokesmen against a wicked faction intent upon dominating
the State.
During his invasion of Italy proper early in that same year, Caesar as-
signed to Antony the critical task of securing and holding the peninsula
against Pompey’s forces. This he did, but not without rubbing many peo-
ple the wrong way; they labeled him as incompetent. Caesar ignored such
accusations and reaped the benefit. When pursuit of Pompey into Greece
led to Caesar’s being cut off from reinforcements and supplies and hemmed
in by enemy forces, Antony did not delay in his efforts to assist his com-
mander. The fleet of Pompey did keep Antony boxed up in Italy until the
spring of 48 BCE, but, despite great difficulties, he finally broke through
with a detachment of troops.
Caesar’s men, unlike other people, adored Antony, and he never let Cae-
sar down. His reputation grew to the point where Caesar entrusted him
with the left wing of his forces during the critical Battle of Pharsalus against
Pompey himself. After their victory, Caesar sent Antony back to take charge
of Italy in the capacity of Master of Horse, second-in-command to Caesar
as dictator.
Things did not go well for Antony, as his “loose” living earned him many
enemies and he stood against radical schemes proposed by Caesar’s sup-
porters in Rome. On the latter’s return in the fall of 47 BCE, he and Antony
did work together to quell urban unrest and ease the economic stress of the
war at home and even faced down a mutiny of their own men, worn out
by long service and demanding pension money and land upon which to re-
tire. Afterward, Antony went into a sort of retirement himself, probably at
38
Caesar’s request, until the latter’s return from Spain in 45 BCE, when the
dictator rehabilitated Antony with high honors.
Still, in the following year, Caesar selected another of his lieutenants,
Lepidus the Younger, to serve as his Master of Horse instead of Antony,
who received only the post of co-consul with Caesar. There may still have
been some problem between them and informers even told Caesar that
Antony was plotting against his life. Caesar dismissed such charges, believ-
ing that people like Antony benefited too much from his power to cut it
down; on the other hand, those who were truly plotting to kill him did
debate whether or not to include Antony in their scheme and they actu-
ally sounded the latter out very carefully. They determined, however, that
Antony was not yet favorable to their cause.
Antony unwittingly exacerbated the already hostile feelings toward the
dictator, especially among members of the elite, by attempting, repeatedly,
to crown Caesar as king during the Lupercalia festival in February 44 BCE;
whether in coordination with Caesar or on his own initiative, Antony’s ac-
tion did not generate the sort of popular enthusiasm he had hoped for.
A month later, while Brutus, Cassius, and other senators carried out their
plan against Caesar on that fateful day, the Ides of March, one of the Con-
spirators, C. Trebonius, remained outside, distracting Antony with conver-
sation. The deed was done pretty rapidly and, when it was over and senators
came rushing out of the building in panic, Antony fled the scene and went
into hiding. He had no way to know at that point that the Conspirators
had also debated whether or not he should be killed along with Caesar, and
that Brutus had objected to this on grounds of principle: only Caesar was a
tyrant, so only his murder was justified; he also hoped to win Antony over
eventually to the “cause of freedom.” Some agreed with this reasoning,
while others feared Antony’s physical prowess, but, for whichever reason,
they all decided not to harm Antony.
Most of the Senate had no idea how to handle the situation caused by the
so-called Liberators; a few, like Cicero, came out publicly to congratulate
them on their action. Antony stepped into the breach: he gathered Caesar’s
official papers from the latter’s widow, Calpurnia, securing also the sizable
fortune the dictator had left behind, and went to confer with Lepidus, who
had immediate command of several legions outside the city. It was Antony
who persuaded Lepidus not to seek revenge against the assassins by force, but
to negotiate a truce; it was Antony who handed his own son, Antyllus, over
to the Conspirators as a hostage, as a token of good faith, to convince them
that it was safe to leave the defenses of the Capitoline Hill; and it was Antony
who convened the Senate two days later to arrange a general amnesty, thereby
erasing the crime of assassination altogether. The Conspirators, in attendance,
even agreed with Caesar’s associates that the latter’s official actions and poli-
cies ought to be validated and that his body ought to receive a public funeral.
39
Antony utilized this occasion to his advantage. He created an uproar,

not by a colorful speech (though he did briefly criticize Caesar’s killers)
but by the orchestrated display of Caesar’s corpse and the reading of his
will, which bequeathed money to every citizen and gardens for their enjoy-
ment; a riot ensued, in which the people burned Caesar’s body on a funeral
pyre right in the middle of the Roman Forum and attacked the homes of
the Conspirators (though without much effect). Regardless, Antony had
very deliberately unleashed popular energy against the Conspirators, which
compelled them to leave town for their lives, and left him virtually in charge
of Rome. He still maintained his role as peacemaker with them, however,
by recognizing the so-called Liberators in various provincial assignments
(though none of great significance militarily). For himself, Antony retained
control of Caesar’s quite substantial personal fortune and command of the
sixteen legions the former dictator had raised for his planned campaign
against the Parthian Empire (which then held the Middle East). The Sen-
ate granted Antony the Gallic territory, formerly Caesar’s provinces, for a
governorship of five years; he turned them over to other governors as prox-
ies so he could remain in Rome. Antony had become the new first man in
Rome.
His rivals in the Senate, both personal and political, looked for any
means to take him down. They soon found what they were looking for in
the person of Caesar’s heir, the young C Octavius, now C. Julius Caesar
Octavianus (we call him Octavian). Antony, of course, had known Octa-
vian for many years and had no fear of him whatsoever, but losing support
among Caesarians who gravitated toward Octavian (either because of his
relation to Caesar or thanks to bribery) and criticized publicly in the Sen-
ate by the orator and statesman, Cicero (who delivered a series of four-
teen speeches, the Philippics, attacking Antony’s character and policies),
Antony soon faced a crisis of leadership. Finally, the provincial governors
of Spain and even his own lieutenants in Gaul refused to follow his orders.
In 43 BCE, Antony moved militarily against one of these, D. Brutus Albi-
nus in Cisalpine Gaul, to punish him; the Senate, however, supported the
rebellious governors and ordered the consuls, Hirtius and Pansa, to march
against Antony as a “public enemy.” They defeated him in the Battle of
Mutina and he fled Italy for Gaul, not sure what sort of reception he would
find there.
In fact, Antony soon won over the Roman forces there and in Spain
to his cause; even Lepidus the Younger, now governor of Nearer Spain
and professed supporter of the Senate, changed his mind to join Antony.
Gathering together over twenty-two legions from the western provinces,
Antony and Lepidus then marched into Italy against a hostile Senate. To
their surprise, the forces that should have stood against them, those under
the command of Octavian, did not do so; outnumbered two-to-one and
40
leading thousands of soldiers who thought fondly of Antony and preferred

not to fight him, Octavian decided instead to negotiate. At Bononia (mod-
ern Bologna) in northern Italy, the three met and agreed to seek vengeance
on the killers of Caesar, as well as to eliminate other senatorial rivals, and to
divide the Roman Empire among themselves. In November 43 BCE, having
returned to Rome, Antony, Octavian, and Lepidus received legal sanction
for their pact from the cowed Senate and People of Rome who recognized
them as tresviri rei publicae constituendae, the board of three men for the
restoration of the Republic. The Second Triumvirate, as they are called
today, proceeded to proscribe hundreds of prominent Romans (including
their own relatives) and confiscated their lands and fortunes. Among those
killed was Cicero, handed over by his former protégé Octavian, punished
with beheading and mutilation besides execution in harsh revenge for his
public slanders against Antony; the latter’s wife at the time, Fulvia, de-
lighted in seeing the body parts of the great statesman nailed to the Speak-
er’s Platform in the Roman Forum.
The Triumvirs also declared war against Brutus and Cassius. Between the
time that Antony had fled Italy and his return to Rome with his new part-
ners, the resurgent Senate had granted both Cassius and Brutus authority
over all the eastern provinces of the empire; but with the establishment of
the new Triumvirate, the cowed Senate officially charged the former Lib-
erators with Caesar’s murder, making them illegally in possession of those
provinces. Nonetheless, they, together with various allies within the Roman
military and aristocracy, raised considerable funds as well as an army of
nineteen legions with the intention of challenging Antony and his associ-
ates and to once and for all “restore the Republic.”
In the fall of 42 BCE, Antony and Octavian led an army of twenty-eight
legions against the Liberators, who had set up station in northern Greece
near the town of Philippi. While Octavian’s forces lost to Brutus in their
first engagement, Antony’s forces defeated Cassius and captured the lat-
ter’s camp; Cassius committed suicide, believing the cause over. Antony’s
victory and the loss of Cassius compelled Brutus to fight a second battle
almost three weeks later, in which he suffered defeat. Brutus’s suicide af-
terward guaranteed the reign of the Second Triumvirate over the entire
empire.
Since Lepidus had not participated in the glorious destruction of Cae-
sar’s murderers, he fell to third place in the coalition, relegated to govern
only North Africa. Antony, as the clear senior partner of the triad, superior
in wealth, prestige, political connections, and military prowess, took com-
mand of the most lucrative provinces, the Gallic territories and all of the
East, leaving Octavian to govern only the Spanish provinces and to con-
front the dangers posed by the last surviving son of Pompey, Sextus Pom-
pey, whose fleet ravaged the Mediterranean islands, especially in the West.
41
Antony also had the advantage, it had first appeared, of a politically active
wife, Fulvia, and brother, L. Antonius, who both intrigued against Octa-
vian in an attempt to weaken the latter’s position further in relation to their
Antony’s.
Their efforts generated great tension between Antony and Octavian but
failed in the end, and played into Octavian’s efforts to expand his powers
in the West by acquiring control of the Gallic territories. When Antony re-
turned to Italy to challenge Octavian’s actions, the latter proposed peace
instead, offering his sister, Octavia, in marriage to Antony (Fulvia had al-
ready died, soon after her fall from prominence). Roman citizens and sub-
jects around the empire favored this reconciliation so much that Antony
could not refuse what came to be called the Pact of Brundisium. In the
following year, 39 BCE, the Triumvirs extended their partnership to include
Sextus Pompey through the Treaty of Misenum. The people of the empire
seemed to have every reason to regard these agreements as ushering in a
golden age of peace, prosperity, and even familial love after years of civil
strife.
The rude awakening from this dream did not take long to befall them.
While Antony focused his military efforts on the long-intended war against
Parthia, and his personal efforts on his relationship with Queen Cleopatra
VII of Egypt, Octavian sought to rule the empire. He soon provoked Sex-
tus Pompey to war, and with the help of his admiral, M. Agrippa, and his
colleague Lepidus, he defeated Sextus. Octavian then won over Lepidus’s
troops and dispossessed him of his province, placing him afterward under
house arrest. Antony, foolishly cooperative, complied with the execution of
Sextus Pompey, who had fled into the Triumvir’s provincial territory. There
was, therefore, no longer a Triumvirate; there was only Octavian against
Antony.
Antony’s position in the East was quite strong as far as his authority
in the Roman provinces as well as his alliances with foreign powers, like
Cleopatra’s Egypt, but in the latest round of the Parthian War, he had
suffered serious setbacks (partly thanks to Octavian’s obstructionism back
home and partly thanks to the treachery of Armenian allies); these setbacks
seem to have contributed to his failure in resisting Octavian’s power grabs.
The latter was also offended by Antony’s treatment of his sister; Octavia
had been left behind first in Rome, later in Athens, while her husband pur-
sued his relationship with Cleopatra. Besides the clearly deep feelings he
held for the queen, Antony understood that he would need the enormous
economic and manpower resources of her kingdom, both to defeat the
Parthians and especially to beat Octavian. Having married Cleopatra in an
Egyptian ceremony (not valid under Roman law, and thus not requiring a
divorce from Octavia), he made an even greater show of his unchallenged
authority in the East as well as Cleopatra’s position there by granting their
42
three young children rule over Roman and conquered territories in the re-
gion; Antony also backed the claims of Cleopatra’s thirteen-year old son,
Ptolemy Caesarion, as being the true son of Julius Caesar (in contrast to
Octavian, son by adoption).
These so-called Donations of Alexandria in 34 BCE, along with the re-
ligious propaganda that promoted Antony as the god Dionysus incarnate
and Cleopatra as the goddess Isis, gave Octavian further ammunition within
the already intimidated Senate to brand Antony as totally deluded and unfit
to command the East; even worse, many in Italy and throughout the west-
ern provinces believed Octavian’s own propaganda that Cleopatra exerted
complete control over Antony through sex.
Octavian, thus, stirred up widespread popular fears and resentment
against a foreign threat and also scared many of Antony’s supporters into
leaving Rome; Antony retaliated by divorcing Octavia in 32 BCE. The cowed
Senate, packed with Octavian’s partisans, declared war against Cleopatra as
the cause of this falling out, indeed of all the new civil strife, and stripped
Antony, as her ally, of any official powers.
Antony responded by gathering ground and naval forces from all across
the East. By the summer of 31 BCE, he had assembled these at the port of
Actium, in western Greece, where Octavian’s forces (really under Agrippa’s
command) attacked them. Antony had the advantage in numbers, funds,
and supplies, but his fresh recruits, especially his naval forces, were poorly
trained and the Romans among them lacked the spirit to fight their own
people. All these flaws worsened as the fighting between the two sides
dragged on over several months. When Antony eventually risked every-
thing on his fleet in an attempt to break through Agrippa’s blockade, the
latter scored a decisive victory; Antony did not help matters by fleeing the
scene after Cleopatra herself had evacuated the area.
Still, Antony regained his composure back in Egypt and awaited Oc-
tavian’s arrival with land forces for one last showdown. Unfortunately,
when that moment came, most of Antony’s troops deserted, leaving him
no chance against Octavian. Perhaps he could have fled to fight another
day, but Antony decided to run no more. On August 3, 30 BCE, he com-
mitted suicide; Cleopatra followed him after failed negotiations with the
victorious and arrogant Octavian. At least he granted them the dignity of
honorable burial together in Cleopatra’s tomb; Octavian executed both
Caesarion and Antyllus, and handed over the couple’s three young children
to his own sister Octavia to raise them and indoctrinate them in the new
order of affairs.
Encapsulating the ups and downs of the Late Roman Republic, the story
of Antony’s life has captured the imagination of readers for generations, as
well as television and movie audiences in more recent times. Caesar saw in
Antony much promise; Roman military personnel looked up to him almost
43
to the end; others, like Cicero and Octavian, simply could not figure him
out and chose instead to attack him. He remains, perhaps, the most roman-
tic leader in Roman history.
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Caesarion (47–30 BCE); Calpurnia; Cas-
sius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE);
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Curio
(d. 49 BCE); Dictator; Egypt; Eulogies/Imagines; Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia
Cisalpina; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Ides of March; Lepidus the Triumvir (d.
12 BCE); Lupercalia; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Mourning/Funerals;
Names; Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Op-
timates; Parthia; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Pro-
scriptions; Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE); Suicide; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Chauveau, M. 2002. Cleopatra: Beyond the Myth. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University
Press.
Dryden, J., and Clough, A. H. 2001. Plutarch’s Lives. New York: Modern Library.
Grant, M. 1977. Cicero: Selected Political Speeches. New York: Penguin Publishing.
Gruen, E. 1974. The Last Generation of the Roman Republic. Berkeley and Los An-
geles: University of California Press.
Huzar, E. G. 1978. Mark Antony: A Biography. Minneapolis: University of Min-
nesota Press.
Syme, R. 1939. The Roman Revolution. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
When Julius Caesar was in his mid-twenties, he decided to leave Rome for a
while, the political climate there having become uncomfortable for him be-
cause of his prosecution of two of the dictator Sulla’s former minions in the
law courts. He traveled to the Greek island of Rhodes, planning to study
there with Apollonius, son of Molon, also known as Apollonius of Rhodes.
Apollonius originally came from the city of Alabanda in southwestern
Turkey (Asia Minor, as the Romans called it), in other words, from the
mainland opposite the island of Rhodes. This region was known for its
Greek high culture in sculpture, architecture, science, philosophy, and rhet-
oric (meaning fine writing and skilled public speaking). At some point, he
moved across the water to Rhodes, probably to train in philosophy and
44
rhetoric there, since it had especially become a center for such things. He
became one of the most prominent citizens of the island, famed for his wis-
dom and decency; by Caesar’s day, he had further developed quite a repu-
tation not only for his own talents as an orator but also for his effectiveness
as a teacher of rhetoric.
Apollonius actually visited Rome on two occasions as an ambassador of
his adopted country; he did not know any Latin himself, but, by that time
in Rome’s history, that would not have mattered much because most of the
Roman upper classes were bilingual in Latin and Greek. Though unprec-
edented, it is, therefore, not surprising that the Roman Senate permitted
Apollonius to address them in Greek; in the past, they had always insisted
on interpreters to convey the message of foreign ambassadors in the Roman
tongue. The privilege extended to Apollonius not only recognized his stat-
ure but also the changing culture of the Senate.
Early in the following decade, the budding young Roman advocate,
M. Tullius Cicero, studied under him during a visit to Rhodes; studying
abroad in the Greek world was becoming more and more common among
the younger generation of Rome’s elite. In this case, the pupil impressed
the teacher greatly, so much, in fact, that Apollonius foresaw how far Greek
culture would become fused with Roman, if Cicero were any example of
the future.
Caesar belonged to that generation of “study-abroad students” as well.
He became renowned as an eloquent and powerful orator himself in the
prosecutions noted above (especially that against Cn. Cornelius Dolabella,
who had been defended by none other than Q. Hortensius, the leading
Roman orator of the time). Neither of those court cases had gone in Cae-
sar’s favor, however, so perhaps he sought to learn better what to do from
Apollonius. After all, Cicero later described Apollonius as a master of cri-
tique, precision, and perfection in writing and particularly in speeches for
the courts.
After spending perhaps two years in Rhodes, Caesar returned home.
From that time on, his stature as a public speaker increased, making him,
in the eyes of many ancient commentators, second only to Cicero. Surely,
the wonderful training under Apollonius of Rhodes contributed to both of
their reputations.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Courts; Education; Oratory; Sulla
(ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Hicks, R. D. 1925. Diogenes Laertius: Lives of Eminent Philosophers. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Press.
45
Ariovistus
Kennedy, G. 1963. Art of Persuasion in Greece. Princeton, NJ: Princeton Univer-

sity Press.
Kennedy, G. 1972. The Art of Rhetoric in the Roman World. Princeton, NJ:
Princeton University Press.
Rawson, E. 1985. Intellectual Life in the Late Roman Republic. Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press.
Ariovistus
In the first century BCE, Ariovistus was a warlord of the Germanic popula-
tion whom the Romans knew as the Suebi. Having brought a large portion
of his tribe across the Rhine River from central Germany into Gaul (roughly
central and northern France, Belgium, southwestern Holland, and western
Germany today), he lorded it over the local populations there, creating
great antagonism; indeed, they characterized him as savage, treacherous,
cruel, arrogant, and willful. The Romans came to agree. Recognized by
them with the title of “king” as the leading warlord of his tribe (though he
did not possess the same powers and privileges that characterize kings of
medieval and modern times), he stood defiantly against the might of Rome
in the person of Julius Caesar, who took on the role of defending the Gauls
against the “tyranny” of Ariovistus.
Ariovistus and his Suebi were not the first Germanic people to migrate
into Gaul; a full third of Gallic territory, so-called Gallia Belgica, was in-
habited by many tribes that had come from Germany in generations past.
Much of this was the natural result of the seminomadic lifestyle of the
tribal populations. In the case of the Suebi, an added reason, again not
brand new, was the call from the Gallic tribe of the Sequani for German
military aid against a rival Gallic tribe, the Aedui. Around 72 BCE, the
Suebi under Ariovistus crushed the latter in battle and laid them under
tribute, but then settled on Sequanian land, seizing from their former
“employers” two-thirds of their territory for themselves and other Ger-
manic allies.
Over the following decade or so, Ariovistus made his Suebi the stron-
gest single power in central Gaul by avoiding pitched battles with the army
combined from a number of Gallic tribes in confederacy against him, uti-
lizing the wilderness and marshlands of the region as hiding places for his
forces, and then attacking his enemies when it suited him, when they were
off guard and scattered across the country. Even the Roman Senate recog-
nized his success over the Gauls and his high position as “king” in the re-
gion by conferring upon Ariovistus the coveted title of “friend of Rome.”
Julius Caesar himself had supported and encouraged this recognition
during his time as consul in 59 BCE, but his conflict with the Helvetii, a
46
Ariovistus
warrior people who had left their homeland in Switzerland to invade Gaul,
had perhaps given Caesar a new perspective on the region and certainly had
altered the role of Rome there. It did not take long before several of the
Gallic tribes, especially the Aedui (who had close ties with Rome stretching
back sixty years) and the Sequani (who sought a new alliance with Rome),
appealed to him against Ariovistus, claiming that the latter threatened the
peace and stability of all Gaul, including the Roman province of Gallia
Transalpina (southern France). Caesar then had the excuse he needed to
engage in imperial expansion on a grand scale, to extend Roman influence
and power as the legitimate protector of old and new allies.
Ariovistus met Caesar’s call for a conference (to discuss the concerns
Rome and its Gallic friends had with the Suebi) with a question of funda-
mental geopolitical significance: why were the Romans interfering in a re-
gion conquered by Germanic arms, stretching their reach beyond their own
sphere of influence? The Suebian warlord asserted that, since he had no de-
signs on Roman territory, the Romans should have none on his. Caesar’s
response to this was that he had the duty and the authority, as governor of
Transalpine Gaul, to protect the Aedui, who had fallen under the thumb
of Ariovistus; in addition, he insisted that if the Suebi wanted to remain
Rome’s friends, they must not only release the hostages taken from the
Aedui but also free the Sequani from bondage and stop any further migra-
tions of Germans into Gaul. Ariovistus, in other words, then learned the
high price of “friendship” with Rome; it did not mean following one’s own
path, but rather following the directives of the empire.
In the midst of the exchanges of messengers and messages, Caesar’s Gal-
lic allies relayed intelligence to him that even more Suebi from among those
who still lived on the other side of the Rhine River were preparing to cross
to join Ariovistus; in addition, the warlord’s men were plundering Aed-
uan lands, despite the fact that the Aedui were abiding by his previous de-
mands upon them. Caesar determined to march against Ariovistus without
delay; discovering that the latter hoped to seize control of the Sequanian
stronghold of Vesontio as a base of operations against a Roman invasion,
he moved on that town by forced marches day and night and garrisoned
it with Roman troops. Then, after quelling growing fears about German
prowess among his own Roman soldiers, Caesar followed the long route of
march suggested by his trusty ally, Divitiacus, the leading Aeduan.
The rapid Roman advance induced Ariovistus to arrange a meeting with
Caesar, who took special precautions against treachery by comprising his
escort from the crack soldiers of the Tenth Legion, disguised as cavalry-
men. When the German and the Roman finally spoke face-to-face on a
hillside between their two opposing camps, the latter reiterated the be-
havior expected of the former as a friend of Rome, reminding him of how
unique that honor was, especially considering that Ariovistus had done
47
Ariovistus
nothing for the empire up to that point; this, indeed, was his chance to
earn Rome’s favor. Caesar again insisted on his own responsibility of pro-
tecting the Aedui and further argued that Rome had a prior claim on Gaul,
since Roman armies had fought there long before the Suebi ever did. For
his part, Ariovistus defended his perspective and his rights, as he had done
previously, and added that, if being a friend of Rome meant losing tribute
money, power, prestige, and safety, then he would rather no longer be one.
He accused the Romans of already having abandoned their Gallic allies by
not coming to their aid at any time during the previous decade and threat-
ened Caesar himself by reminding him that many nobles back in Rome
would be glad to see him die at German hands.
Negotiations having led nowhere, two days later, Ariovistus began to
advance toward Caesar’s camp; another day further and his men were at-
tempting to cut off communications and supplies between the Roman posi-
tion and their Gallic allies. He allowed only skirmishes between his cavalry
and those of Caesar over the next five days. The latter then moved some
of his men to a second location of encampment to prevent being isolated
by Suebian efforts. This lured the Germans into an attack on the smaller
Roman camp; both sides suffered heavy losses.
The next day, Caesar ordered the majority of his force to attack the Ger-
man camp directly; the multi-tribal coalition under Ariovistus emerged for
the final confrontation. Both armies charged at the other so quickly that
there was no time for throwing spears; they engaged, instead, sword-to-
sword, the German warriors defending one another with a wall of shields.
Many of Caesar’s men responded to this by literally throwing themselves
onto the Germans to pull the shield-wall apart with their bare hands; their
comrades then pushed in for the kill. The Roman right wing smashed
through the German left, while the German right smashed through the
Roman left; the battle would have turned into a draw had not Roman rein-
forcements from the rear saved the day for their side.
Ariovistus made good his escape from the field; in fact, along with only a
few others, he managed to escape altogether across the Rhine (the Romans
never heard of him again). His two wives and two daughters had not been
so lucky; three of them were cut down like many, many other fugitives by
the Roman cavalry in hot pursuit and one daughter was captured alive. For
the time being at least, further German incursions across the Rhine stopped
and Roman power had been made supreme in central Gaul. For the long
term, Caesar had protected Roman interests and reassured Gallic allies but
had also instilled in other tribes antagonism toward and fear of Roman
empire-building. For the future, the policy of aggression against the Suebi
that Caesar decided to set in motion very deliberately began the permanent
separation of Germania from Gallia, in modern terms, of Germany from
France, Belgium, and Holland.
48
Arms and Armor
See also: Aedui; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina;

Germans; Helvetii; Suebi; Tenth Legion
Further Reading
University Press.
Thompson, E. A. 1965. The Early Germans. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
California Press.
Arms and Armor

By the time of Julius Caesar, Roman arms and armor had already gone
through several transformations, demonstrating one of the Romans’ quint-
essential cultural traits: learning from others. Certainly, the men who served
under Caesar learned a great deal from one another on this score, as he
gathered, over time, quite an ethnically diverse fighting force.
In early Rome, that is, Rome under the kings and then during the Early
Republic, the standard of weaponry came from the Greeks, whose methods
of warfare spread from their colonies in southern Italy all the way up to the
Po River valley in northernmost Italy; even their cultural and commercial
competitors, the Etruscans of Etruria (modern Tuscany) adopted Greek
ways of war. Greek hoplites (heavily armored infantry) normally carried a
long thrusting spear (doru in Greek, hasta in Latin), a round shield (aspis
in Greek, parma in Latin) made of wood covered by a sheet of bronze
or tanned leather, and a long iron sword (machaira in Greek, ferrum in
Latin), and wore a bronze helmet (korus or kranos in Greek), a bronze
breastplate on their chests (thorax in Greek, lorica in Latin), and bronze
greaves on their lower legs (ocreae in Latin).
Since the Roman government during most of the Republic traditionally
did not provide fighting equipment for its troops, those Roman soldiers
who had this panoply (full outfit of armor) were wealthy enough to pay for
it themselves. There was no truly standard outfit then, since it would vary
across the ranks according to the affluence of the soldier. By Caesar’s day,
however, thanks to the efforts of plebeian tribunes, like C. Gracchus, and
generals, like Scipio Aemilianus and C. Marius, all heavy-armored troops
carried the same standard equipment, that is, pilum, gladius, scutum, and
49
Arms and Armor
A Roman soldier throws a javelin over a dead body. Preparatory drawing for the
English version of J. C. Lavater’s Essays on Physiognomy, translated by H. Hunter,
London, 1789–1798. (Wellcome Library, London)
galea, provided at government expense and manufactured, as in Caesar’s

army, by the military engineers within the legions.
In the Late Republic, the first weapon used in battle by Roman heavy
infantry was the pilum, a javelin or throwing spear. Usually weighing some-
thing like three or four pounds, the pilum consisted of a long wooden
shaft about four-and-a-half feet long; inserted into one end of this shaft,
and attached to it by metal pins, was a rod of iron (surviving examples
range from approximately eight to twenty-two inches in length and are
about one-third of an inch thick), sometimes squared, sometimes rounded
in shape, tipped by a triangular or pyramidal barb (one-and-a-half to two
inches long). A lighter version of the pilum weighed less than two pounds;
some of these light spears had unusually long iron shanks measuring thirty
to forty inches.
The Roman legionary typically engaged the enemy with the pilum first.
A volley of pila (plural) could at the very least throw opponents into disar-
ray or at best cause much loss of life; it could dissuade them from an assault
or soften them up for further destruction. The Roman claim, made also by
50
Arms and Armor
Caesar himself in his account of the wars in Gaul (e.g., in his retelling of
the campaign against the Helvetii), that the metal of the pilum bent on im-
pact, does not appear accurate, according to modern studies. That General
Marius’s modification of the pilum (whereby he replaced one of the metal
pins with a wooden one that would break on impact, thereby rendering the
pilum damaged and useless) became standard, though a common belief, is
also partly misleading, as there are examples from before and after Caesar’s
time of exactly the opposite, that is, specially reinforced pila. Regardless,
over and over again, Roman sources credit both heavy and light versions of
the pilum, when properly hurled, with having sufficient force to penetrate
not one but multiple enemy shields, and then to be difficult, if not impos-
sible, to remove; modern tests with replicas of archaeological specimens
have confirmed such statements.
Roman heavy infantry followed up on their barrage of javelins by attack-
ing the enemy with their swords; another advantage of first having thrown
the pila was that this usually opened up sufficient and necessary maneuver-
ing room for swordplay in the combat zone. The Romans of Caesar’s time
had for nearly 150 years been using the “Spanish sword” or gladius Hispan-
iensis, modeled on that created by the Celtiberian tribes of Spain. Measur-
ing approximately twenty-five inches in length, the iron gladius (still often
referred to by the earlier term ferrum in Latin sources, as, for example,
Caesar’s own writings) had a sharp point for thrusting and equally sharp
edges for slicing; a slight “pinching” of the blade near its middle allowed
for quicker outflow of blood from an enemy’s wound, and some versions
of the gladius even had engraved channels to further improve this function.
Certainly, the Roman short sword was the ideal instrument of bloody mu-
tilation in battle. It was carried in a scabbard attached to a belt around the
soldier’s waist.
While engaging in fierce hand-to-hand combat using their swords,
Roman legionaries also strove to maintain formation, so as to protect one
another from their opponents. They defended themselves and their com-
rades close-by primarily by using a shield, the scutum, developed from Sam-
nite types (the Samnites were a rival population in southern Italy conquered
by the Romans over a long period of time). Approximately four feet tall
and two-and-a-third feet across, the scutum consisted of multiple layers of
wood, sometimes sheets and sometimes strips, glued together and covered
over on the outward-facing surface by leather or some other form of animal
skin. This shield was not flat or slightly concave (as in the case of the aspis or
parma), but curved more pronouncedly, so as to form a tighter protection
around the soldier’s left and right sides. To better resist the hacking sword
strokes of an enemy, the outer rim of the oval might be reinforced with iron
strips and the center, facing the enemy, with a boss of wood or iron, which
could also serve to deflect such blows or to inflict a beating; the scutum did,
51
Arms and Armor
after all, weigh about twenty-two pounds. Indeed, Caesar wrote about how
his own men, exhausted during a particular battle against the Belgae, relied
on their shields almost as weapons themselves to apply forceful pressure
against their foes. A soldier maneuvered his shield with a handgrip of wood
or metal, and usually carried it while on the march inside a sort of garment
bag (tegimentum) made of leather.
The last piece of standard military equipment among the heavy infantry
of Caesar’s day was the galea or Celtic-style helmet. Fastened to the head
by a leather chin strap, the galea was fashioned out of bronze in the shape
of a dome; for further protection from enemy weapons, it flared outward at
the base of the neck and included adjustable cheek guards.
Other kinds of body armor were still not issued as standard equipment in
the Late Republic but instead continued to depend on the personal wealth
of the soldier, so that the poorer troops wore lorica pectorale (metal breast-
plates, some as simple looking as an old-fashioned trash can lid), while the
wealthier wore lorica hamata or gallica (chainmail coats in various styles)
or “muscle lorica” (molded breastplates attached by buckles to molded
back plates).
Equipment differed slightly for light-armed troops, who carried the gla-
dius but otherwise continued to use the small round shield of the Greeks,
wore little, if any, body armor, and hurled a much lighter javelin (the hasta
velitaris, about three feet of shaft and nine inches of shank).
The early Roman military relied very much on native Roman horse-
men, but over the centuries, their numbers diminished in favor of allied
cavalry. Both in his Gallic campaigns and in the Civil War, Caesar had a
considerable force of Roman troopers, though, supplemented by those
he recruited from among the Gauls, Germans, and Celtiberians. Roman
cavalry, who came from the wealthiest families in the state, could af-
ford whatever weaponry and armor suited them. Aside from a Greek- or
Roman-style helmet, some chose the lorica pectorale, some the lorica
gallica, some the standard hasta, and some the hasta velitaris. Troop-
ers could not manage a scutum while on horseback, so they utilized the
parma, and they often fought, at closer range to the enemy, with the
gladius.
Since at least the days of the Early Republic, the army of the Romans
had made good use of the particular fighting skills, and the weaponry that
went along with them, of allies from other communities and cultures. In
addition to the cavalry forces noted earlier (many of whom would have rid-
den horses from their own particular homelands and also employed weap-
ons from their own particular cultures), during his wars in Gaul, Julius
Caesar relied on archers (sagittarii) from the Greek island of Crete and
from the North African kingdom of Numidia (roughly today’s Algeria)
52
Arms and Armor
and on slingers (funditores) from the Balearic Islands of the western Medi-
terranean; in these regions of the Roman world, male children grew up
from the earliest age practicing such skills in sport, hunting, and combat.
Caesar’s opponents in the Civil War also relied on such skilled special-
ists, from an even wider array of cultures, in considerable numbers; tens
of thousands of arrows (sagittae) and slingshot (tela, as Caesar calls it,
which could mean lead bullets or sharp, weighted metal darts) might be
employed in a single assault on an enemy position. Indeed, the Civil War
witnessed perhaps much greater use of archers and slingers than previously
seen in Roman warfare, since the two sides frequently sought to scare
each other off, weaken each other’s resolve, or cut off each other’s retreat
through long-distance barrages. Furthermore, as the “cannon-fodder” of
Roman warfare, such specialists might find themselves sacrificed to the
enemy in the midst of battle or retreat, a loss the Romans clearly felt they
could absorb better than the loss of their own. Foreign specialists who
fought on foot, wore very little, if any, body armor and usually carried only
small shields; they were, therefore, quite vulnerable if left unprotected by
the Roman legionaries.
Thus, the legions of the Late Republic, whether Caesar’s, Pompey’s, or
anyone else’s for that matter, stood at the apex in terms of the quality and
diversity of arms, armor, and fighting skills for that time in history. Battles
of the era employed a multiplicity of weaponry and of personnel trained
specially in its uses.
See also: Army; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Germans; Legions; Libya/Numidia;
Military Discipline; Siegecraft
Further Reading
Bishop, M. C., and J.C.N. Coulston. 1993. Roman Military Equipment from the
Punic Wars to the Fall of Rome. London: Batsford.
Campbell, B., and L. A. Tritle. 2013. The Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Clas-
sical World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Carter, J. 1997. Caesar: The Civil War. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Dixon, K. R., and P. Southern. 1992. The Roman Cavalry. London: Batsford.
Goldsworthy, A. 2003. The Complete Roman Army. London: Thames and Hud-
son.
Keppie, L. 1998. The Making of the Roman Army. London and New York: Rout-
ledge.
McCall, J. B. 2002. The Cavalry of the Roman Republic. London and New York:
Routledge.
Robinson, H. R. 1975. The Armour of Imperial Rome. London: Arms and Armour
Press.
53
Army
Army
Believing as a law of nature itself that the strong should rule the weak, the
male population of ancient Italy, and especially Roman males, conditioned
themselves from childhood for combat, taking pride in valor and honor on
the battlefield; avoiding shameful conduct and overconfidence, as Julius
Caesar himself frequently encouraged his troops to do, took self-control,
obedience, and discipline. Citizen-soldiers of such qualities, together with
contingents of troops from their allies and subjects in Italy and across the
Mediterranean, made the Empire of Rome possible. They also eventually
made possible the inordinate power of their generals, the power that indeed
toppled the Republic of Rome.
During the Republic, the Roman population was divided into property
classes; in the Roman army of the Republic, troops were levied (legio)
by the commanding magistrate according to property class, the wealthi-
est providing the cavalry (equites), the classes below providing infantry
(pedites), either heavily armed (hastati, principes, and triarii) or light-
armed (velites). The capite censi, Roman citizens who had little or no
property, were not allowed to serve in the army. Military service was thus
not only a duty of the adult, male citizen but also a privilege of the prop-
ertied classes.
By 311 BCE, instead of calling all eligible men to fight in one large for-
mation (a phalanx as the Greeks used, a classis or legio as the Romans
called it), the Romans divided their soldiers among four legions, each
varying in size from 4,000 to 6,000 men. Light-armed velites formed the
front screen, with ranks of hastati (spearmen), principes (“front-liners”),
and triarii (“third-liners” or reserves) behind, organized by age and ex-
perience.
Each legion was divided further into thirty to forty tactical units called
maniples (60 to 120 men each), another change from the old phalanx or
classis, partly to accommodate the new pilum or javelin adopted by the Ro-
mans from their Samnite adversaries at that time. The maniples were di-
vided into ranks of ten to allow for sufficient maneuverability.
Each maniple itself consisted of two centuries. By the end of the sec-
ond century BCE, three maniples or six centuries were grouped to form a
larger unit called a cohort (first attested in use by Scipio Africanus in his
campaigns against the Carthaginians in Spain); thus, each legion could be
divided into ten cohorts.
To identify military units and encourage a kind of team spirit, every ma-
niple and cohort had its own standard (signa militaria), a spear decorated
with discs, crowns, wreaths, and other honors of the unit and topped by
the image of a hand. The legions also had similar standards until General
Marius, in the late second century BCE, introduced the use of a wreathed
54
Army
standard topped by a gold or silver eagle (aquila) as the symbol of each le-
gion. Cavalry units (alae) and auxiliary cohorts each had their own identi-
fying flags (vexilla).
When a Roman volunteered or more usually was drafted as a soldier
(miles), he swore an oath (sacramentum) to the commander of the army,
pledging allegiance and obedience to the latter for the duration of the cam-
paign; soldiers of the Republic were expected to serve in not more than six
consecutive campaigns, but be available for at least sixteen years of cam-
paigning, spread out over their lifetime. The soldier underwent physical
conditioning and training; traditionally, this took place just outside the city
limits of Rome on the Campus Martius or Field of Mars, but as the Repub-
lic grew into an empire, such conditioning and training would take place
wherever troops might be stationed.
Caesar’s uncle, the famous general Marius, established new standards
and methods for this after many military failures of lax Roman troops under
previous commanders; he also found it necessary to do so since he was re-
cruiting large numbers of capite censi into the ranks, men who had no mili-
tary experience and were physically not in shape like the soldier-farmers
who had traditionally formed the Roman army. Recruits were now marched
(ambulatura), expected to carry sixty pound packs twenty-four miles in five
hours (as a result, soldiers acquired the nickname, muli Mariani or Mari-
us’s mules), and practiced various offensive and defensive formations, like
the wedge or hollow square; weapons exercises (with simulated weapons
at first, followed by real ones) were adopted from the battle training (ar-
matura) of the gladiatorial schools. Such drilling continued even in times
of peace; furthermore, Roman commanders, like Caesar, always employed
their fighting men in the provinces or on campaign in other physical activi-
ties, such as building roads, bridges, and forts.
For doing well in these endeavors, Roman soldiers had the chance to
gain various individual forms of honor and awards in precious metals, such
as neckbands (torques), armbands (armillae), shield-discs (phalerae), or
crowns (coronae). Of course, for dereliction of duty or criminal behavior,
they were also subject to severe reprimands and punishments, such as beat-
ing (castigatio/cedo alteram vitis), burdensome duties (munerum indictio),
reduction in rank (gradus reiectio), monetary fine (pecuniaria multa), or
dishonorable discharge (missio ignominiosa). The worst offenders, such
as deserters or cowards on the battlefield, suffered death as punishment,
sometimes by way of decimation.
Talented soldiers could serve in a variety of special capacities, such as
record clerk (librarius), centurion’s assistant (cornicularius), standard-
bearer (signifer), watch-commander (tesserarius), orderly (optio), engi-
neer (fabricenses), specialist (immunis), or in the commander’s special
guard (cohors praetoria) at his headquarters (praetorium). Men who
55
Army
served in many campaigns could rise up from the ranks to become cen-
turions, the building-block officers of the Roman army, in command of
the centuries.
Above the centurions stood the aristocratic officers, most of whom acted
as the general’s advisory council. Six military tribunes were attached to
each legion; they administered the soldier’s oath noted above. Most of
them were young members of the aristocracy, such as Caesar and his rival
Cato, though a few rose from the ranks of centurion. There was an expec-
tation that they had seen at least five campaigns as soldiers. A Roman law
of the late second century established that the tribunes of the first four le-
gions levied for any given year had to be elected by the Popular Assembly,
while all others could be appointed by the commanding general; election,
as opposed to appointment, to a military tribunate, again as the careers of
both Caesar and Cato reveal, marked a young aristocrat as a favorite of the
People and suggested future political success. It also guaranteed that these
officers at the core of that year’s fighting force knew that the fighting men
themselves, in their capacity as voting citizens, had chosen them, that they
were answerable to the citizen-soldiers, and especially at the conclusion of
their year of service, when all such publicly elected officials became subject
to a form of audit by the People.
Above the tribunes were a myriad of prefects, some commanding cav-
alry, some in charge of military camps or garrisons, or specialized corps,
such as the praefectus fabrum, commander of the army engineers. Just
below the commanding general in the chain of command were the legates,
experienced officers chosen by the commanding general with senatorial ap-
proval, and the quaestor; legates had no set duties except those assigned
by the general, while the quaestor acted as paymaster and often as deputy
general. At the top, depending on the location and circumstances, the le-
gionary force was commanded by either a praetor or a consul, or perhaps
a propraetor or proconsul, a high-ranking member of the Roman Senate
who nonetheless usually took his decisions in a council of war rather than
alone.
Attached to the Roman legionary armies were the contingents (aux-
ilia) from Rome’s allies in Italy and elsewhere, often specialists, such as
Cretan archers and Gallic and Celtiberian horsemen, owed in service to
Rome by obligation of treaty. Roman prefects commanded these forces,
which equaled or often exceeded in number the Roman troops them-
selves.
Since serving in the army of the Republic was a duty of the eligible citi-
zen, one provided oneself and one’s fighting equipment without expecta-
tion of compensation. Still, as early as 396 BCE, the treasury of Rome began
to pay citizen-soldiers a small allowance for their expenses while on active
duty. By the time of the Greek historian Polybius, who carefully observed
56
Army
the workings of the Roman military in the second century BCE, this allow-
ance amounted to something like half-a-year’s earnings for the typical day
laborer of the time. The Republic always left to the individual generals
the responsibility of paying the troops further through war loot, and since
Rome’s early wars of expansion were usually very lucrative enterprises, they
could leave a soldier well-off financially and better-off socially, if he sur-
vived, with veterans receiving a nice share of the spoils of war on discharge.
Promotion to higher rank brought with it a larger allowance and share of
the spoils.
This was not always easy or even feasible, however. During the difficult
wars of expansion in the third century BCE, for instance, many veterans re-
turned home to overwhelming debts and bankrupt farms and ended up in
Rome as part of an expanding proletariat living from hand to mouth; and
in the second century BCE, the wars against various poor tribes, such as
those of Spain, yielded little in the way of spoils. These latter wars also saw
abuses of the levy in Rome’s desperate attempt to get men to go into battle.
Fighting in Spain dragged on for twenty years, with heavy losses, and on
a number of occasions, the eligible recruits protested against the levy and
the tribunes of the plebs even arrested the consuls to prevent them from
conducting the levy. Even minors were drafted to staff these wars until it
was stopped by one plebeian tribune, C. Sempronius Gracchus, who put
through a military law to firmly set the minimum age limit at seventeen; he
also called on the state to provide equipment and clothing for all soldiers
and stabilized their annual cash allowance. This law gave General Marius
the ability to accept large numbers of volunteers from the capite censi, as
noted earlier, since he could equip them at the state’s expense.
In 107 BCE, in dire need of forces for his war against the Numidian king
Jugurtha, Marius took thousands of Roman proletarians and poor farmers
with him. He was not the first to employ these capite censi; they had been
levied as emergency forces before, especially by Scipio Africanus for his ex-
pedition against Carthage in the third century BCE. Indeed, the Republic
had been steadily lowering its property qualifications since then to enlist
enough men for long, far-off foreign campaigns. This opened the way for
General Marius eventually to ignore those standards completely and enlist
property-less citizens.
His action, however, combined with the increasing need for large num-
bers of Roman troops in the wars of the Late Republic and to garrison
Rome’s far-flung provinces, led to a general disregard of the property qual-
ifications for military service. More and more men volunteered or were
enlisted from the capite censi and served a full sixteen years. This meant
professionalization of what was originally a citizen militia and an end to the
old distinctions of hastatus, princeps, and triarius among the Roman troops.
The new style of soldier depended entirely on his commanding officer to
57
Artistic Depictions of Caesar
survive: the Republic might provide equipment and a small amount of cash,
but the general had to give a larger share of the loot, or find other ways of
compensating his men, if he wanted to retain their loyalty and encourage
their bravery.
Thus, the generals of the Late Republic became the patrons of their sol-
diers and amassed a huge body of clients, whose support took the forms of
intimidation and votes. That is not to say that soldiers had never before had
an influence on political events; after all, soldiers and voters were one and
the same in Rome. But the new relationship between generals and soldiers
marked the involvement of the army in Roman politics in dangerous forms.
In the last five decades of the Republic, when competing aristocratic com-
manders, like Sulla, Marius, Cinna, Lepidus, Pompey, and Caesar, ordered
their citizen-soldiers to engage in repeated, brutal civil wars against their
own comrades, such fighting men became desensitized, regarding even
friends and relatives as enemies and doing whatever was necessary to bring
victory to their commander. The armies of the Roman Republic, the force
that had built and secured the empire, turned in on themselves until they
brought about the collapse of the Republic and the rise of monarchy under
the first emperor, Augustus.
See also: Arms and armor; Camps; Centurions; Legions; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Siegecraft
Further Reading
Davies, R. W. 1991. Service in the Roman Army. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh Uni-
versity Press.
Goldsworthy, A. 2003. The Complete Roman Army. London: Thames and Hud-
son.
Harris, W. V. 1979. War and Imperialism in Republican Rome, 327–70 B.C. Ox-
ford: Oxford University Press.
Keppie, L. 1998. The Making of the Roman Army. Norman: University of Okla-
homa Press.
Smith, R. E. 1958. Service in the Post-Marian Army. Liverpool, UK: Manchester
University Press.
Watson, G. R. 1969. The Roman Soldier. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

Modern students of ancient Roman history have a fairly good idea of what
Julius Caesar looked like from surviving descriptions and artistic depictions.
Indeed, his might be one of the most recognizable faces from the Roman
world.
58
Front and profile views of a bust of Julius Caesar in the British Museum, London.
(Hulton Archive/Getty Images)
The Imperial biographer Suetonius preserved a physical description of

Caesar, passed down to him through Roman tradition. His face was a little
wide, his complexion light, his eyes dark and lively. Unfortunately, no col-
ored portraits of Caesar survive (or at least have not yet been discovered)
to illustrate all these features. Art of that sort did exist in the Late Repub-
lic, as Romans practiced the methods of the ancient Etruscans, especially
the latter’s technique of fresco painting (in which pigments were applied to
layers of wet plaster), and those of the ancient Greeks, especially the con-
struction of mosaic images (in which hundreds of tiny, multicolored marble
tiles were embedded in a plaster base) and painting on wooden panels (for
more portable display). Most ancient paintings and mosaics suffered de-
struction from one cause or another over the centuries after the collapse of
the Roman Empire, except for the relatively few specimens still extant, usu-
ally thanks to unusual circumstances.
Fortunately, a number of portrait busts of Caesar did survive, though
most probably dating to the century after his lifetime. Still, since a math-
ematical and geometrical system had been developed whereby one sculp-
tor could almost precisely duplicate the bust carved by another - thereby
allowing the production of multiple copies of the same face - some of these
59
portraits likely date back to originals from his lifetime. Roman sculptors
had perfected all the sophisticated techniques of their Greek and Etrus-
can predecessors in the fine art of carving wax and stone or casting three-
dimensional bronze images. They tended to stick closer to the Etruscan tra-
dition, which permitted an artist to display the subject’s mind, heart, and
personality, and realistic (though sometimes exaggerated) facial features,
even blemishes, peculiarities, or illness.
Though some of Caesar’s portraits vary significantly in appearance (espe-
cially when one compares the bust found at Tusculum in Italy with the one
found in Egypt), most display prominent features in common, especially
that “wide face,” by which Suetonius must have actually meant a broad
forehead. The biographer also noted how painstakingly Caesar had his hair
cut and his face shaved, and how greatly ashamed he was at his own bald-
ness (which his detractors frequently harped on), carefully combing his re-
maining hair to mask the emptiness. The surviving portrait busts illustrate
these traits as well. They can neither show us his light complexion, since
whatever paint once covered them has worn away over the centuries, nor
the darkness of his eyes, but the faces do reveal an alert, determined, fully
present personality.
Perhaps the most reliable images of Caesar come from the many coins
minted by him and his supporters; unlike previous Roman leaders, who had
scrupulously avoided placing their own faces on official coinage (only gods
or ancestors had been shown in the past), Caesar broke the mold, becom-
ing the first Roman to see himself portrayed in silver relief. These are, thus,
fully contemporary portraits. Such images, like those on the coins minted
in the last few months of his life, match up very well not only with Suetoni-
us’s physical description but also with the majority of portrait busts of Cae-
sar. In addition, they illustrate Suetonius’s observation that Caesar wore the
laurel wreath decreed to him by the Senate and People of Rome on every
occasion he could as another means to cover up his follicle deficiency.
LITTLE CAESAR’S PIZZA

In 1959, Michael and Marian Ilitch opened the first Little Caesar’s
carry-out pizza shop in a suburb just outside Detroit, Michigan. By
the time they sold their first franchise store in 1962, they had in-
troduced the now-familiar logo of a laurel-wreathed, spear-totting
Roman, known as “Little Caesar,” eating a slice of pizza. Twenty years
after founding their company, he shouted for the first time, “Pizza,
Pizza!” The explanation for the company’s name remains anecdotal.
60
According to Suetonius, Caesar was also tall and well built. Statues from
his lifetime (for instance, the one erected in honor of his dictatorship within
his new Forum) likely demonstrated this; the examples that survive today
all date to the later era of Rome’s emperors. Such stone sculptures again
displayed realism, more or less, in the face but tended to idealize the rest
of the body. Ancient sources record that Caesar preferred to have himself
shown in the outfit of a military man; naturally, the artists would make him
appear a masterful, confident, successful military man. The statue described
by the Imperial biographer Plutarch as standing in the Temple of Victory
at the city of Tralles (located in southwestern Asia Minor, today’s Turkey)
probably had such a look. Perhaps the townspeople had erected it in Cae-
sar’s honor in gratitude for some great service that he had done for them in
the past, or perhaps because they wished to get on his good side in hopes
of some future benefit. Regardless, the mere fact that, before his victories
in the Civil War, statues with his likeness existed in far-away places of the
empire speaks to us of Caesar’s stature and importance even without being
the master of the Roman world.
Plutarch recorded how the orator and statesman Cicero, who suspected
Caesar of harboring the destruction of the Republic in his heart, still found
it hard to imagine that Caesar would be willing to get his hands dirty in
some sort of revolution. After all, he spent so much time carefully adjusting
his hair and parting it with one finger. Suetonius adds, in a similar vein, how
incredibly fussy Caesar was over his appearance in public, and even in pri-
vate, how he could not even stand stray hairs where he did not want them
on his body and very attentively plucked them off. Such a man seemed
more of a pretty boy than a world ruler.
Yet he did come to rule the Roman world, at least momentarily, and,
not surprisingly, his successors in power, Antony, Lepidus, and especially
Octavian, commissioned more portraits and statues in Caesar’s honor and
placed them all over the empire after his death; likely so did other adherents
of his in the locales where they resided. Some of these artistic depictions of
Caesar have come down to us and all of them linked members of his fac-
tion, or family descendants, to the greatness of the man, immortalizing him
for future generations.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Dictator; Forum Iulium/Forum
Caesaris; Eulogies/Imagines; Mourning/Funerals; Plutarch’s Lives; Sueto-
nius (ca.70–130 CE)
Further Reading
Crawford, M. 1974. Roman Republican Coinage. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.
61
Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE)
Kleiner, D. E. 1992. Roman Sculpture. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Nash, E. 1981. A Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Rome. New York: Hacker Art
Books.
Platner, S. B., and T. Ashby. 2002 reprint. A Topographical Dictionary of Ancient
Rome. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Richardson, L. 1992. A New Topographical Dictionary of Ancient Rome. Balti-
more: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Strong, D. 1988. Roman Art. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Toynbee, J.M.C. 1978. Roman Historical Portraits. Ithaca, NY: Cornell Univer-
sity Press.
Zanker, P. 1990. The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus. Ann Arbor: Univer-
sity of Michigan Press.

In the months following the assassination of Julius Caesar in March 44 BCE,
the famous orator and statesman M. Tullius Cicero wrote a letter to his
closest friend, T. Pomponius Atticus, which contained a thinly veiled
comparison between Cicero’s own nephew, Quintus, and one of Caesar’s
lieutenants, C. Asinius Pollio. In Cicero’s eyes, Pollio was essentially an
opportunistic turncoat; from a more modern perspective, we might sim-
ply regard him as one of the most successful political survivors of his gen-
eration.
Pollio’s career in politics began in 54 BCE with his prosecution of a man
named C. Cato, who worked for Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus. This gang
of three or Triumvirate, as we call them, had recently reaffirmed its com-
mitment to dominating (or at least steering) the government of the Roman
Republic; in opposition stood those senators who styled themselves “Opti-
mates” (the “best people” to run affairs), and Pollio appeared to be one of
the latter or at least on their side.
When push came to shove, however, and the Optimates had won over
to their cause Caesar’s former partner, Pompey (Crassus having died), and
precipitated a Civil War between Pompey and Caesar, Pollio was there with
Caesar’s army; indeed, when his general made the famous crossing of the
Rubicon River in the dead of winter, 49 BCE, Pollio was one of the friends
with whom Caesar talked over that fateful move. Later in that same year, he
helped secure the province of Sicily for his side (encouraging the departure
of Cato, the leading Optimate, from the island) and accompanied Caesar’s
legate, C. Scribonius Curio, on a military mission to secure North Africa
as well; Curio was another politician who had famously (or infamously, de-
pending on your point of view) changed his tune from denouncing Caesar
to promoting him.
62
Pollio left North Africa after Curio’s defeat and death in the early fall.
Remaining loyal to Caesar, he fought in his army at the Battle of Pharsalus
in Greece (summer of 48 BCE), returned to North Africa in the campaign
against Pompeian fugitives there (early 46 BCE), and accompanied him
also to Spain for the campaign against the last remnants of the Pompeian
resistance under Pompey’s sons (early 45 BCE). While there, in the spring
of 45 BCE, Pollio wrote a letter to Cicero warning him about the behavior
of his nephew, Quintus. Cicero’s brother and nephew had both been par-
doned by Caesar for taking Pompey’s side in the Civil War and both had
spoken ill of Cicero, his young nephew going even further in his black
comments.
Having come back to Italy with Caesar to celebrate his victories in the
fall of 45 BCE, Pollio afterward was sent by Caesar to assume command of
the Roman province of Further Spain (today’s southern Spain), then de-
stabilized by the guerilla forces assembled by Pompey’s only surviving son,
Sextus. Pollio’s efforts did not gain him much renown.
Meanwhile, in March of the following year, the Conspiracy of the Lib-
erators, led by Brutus and Cassius, assassinated Caesar, placing his former
lieutenants, like Pollio, in a precarious position; they could only survive,
it seemed, by cooperating with the reinvigorated Senate. Early in the next
year, 43 BCE, this appeared even more to be the case when armies loyal to
the Senate chased Marc Antony, supreme among Caesar’s former associ-
ates, out of Italy. The Senate soon welcomed Sextus Pompey back into the
fold and ordered the provincial governors in the West, L. Munatius Plancus
in Gaul (roughly modern France) and M. Aemilius Lepidus in Nearer Spain
(today’s eastern Spain) to operate against Antony. They did not summon
Pollio, apparently because of suspicions within the Senate about his friend-
ship with Antony and, therefore, the level of his loyalty to the Republic.
In writing to Cicero, surely the staunchest of Antony’s political oppo-
nents, Pollio claimed that he did not even know what was happening back
home, since letter carriers had been intercepted by military personnel on
both sides and by brigands in the mountain passes of northern Spain; word
finally reached him only by sea. He professed a desire for peace and liberty
and sought to remain neutral, especially since there were personal enemies
of his among those under Sextus’ command. He defended his loyalty to
Caesar by insisting that everything he did under orders he was compelled
to do and everything he did on his own was for the greater good of his
country. He also asserted that he would stand against a renewed despotism
(by which he meant the power of Antony) in defense of a true Republic,
but complained of interference from and obstruction by Lepidus, who had
thrown in his lot with Antony.
Lepidus had not had much choice because of the sheer popularity Antony
enjoyed among the rank and file of the provincial armies and the promises
63
he made to them through messengers about large presents of payment.

The same factors almost enticed one of Pollio’s three legions (the Twenty-
Eighth) away from him, while Antony and Lepidus demanded angrily from
him the handing over of the Thirtieth Legion, which Pollio refused to do.
By the end of the year, however, Pollio’s change of mind and decision to
support Antony proved correct, because Antony and Lepidus had teamed
up with Caesar’s adopted son, Octavian, to seize control of the Roman
world and destroy the so-called Liberators.
The Second Triumvirate assigned Pollio a special commission in north-
ern Italy with some of the responsibility in the gigantic project of settling
hundreds of thousands of veteran soldiers on land confiscated from politi-
cal enemies. In the course of this project, he became the patron of a young
man named P. Vergilius Maro, saving the latter’s estates from government
appropriation. Known to moderns as Virgil, this young man went on to
become the greatest of all Latin poets, a favorite of Octavian (who later, as
the Emperor Augustus, became an even more important patron to Virgil
than Pollio had been).
Pollio ended his political career as a consul in Rome in 40 BCE and as pro-
consul in Illyricum (the Adriatic region from Slovenia to Albania) the fol-
lowing year; his military operations against the Illyrian Parthini even earned
him an official triumphal celebration. Afterward, he went into retirement,
channeling his considerable rhetorical skills into composing poetry and his-
tory.
Indeed, he thrived now as a patron of learning, funding the construc-
tion of Rome’s first public library, and as an author himself. Especially in
the historical genre, Pollio had the advantage, as one of Caesar’s closest
friends during the Civil War, of being privy to particular details. For in-
stance, he recorded Caesar’s famous statement of self-defense after the vic-
tory at Pharsalus: “They wanted this. I, Caius Caesar, having achieved so
much, would have been condemned if I had not appealed to the help of my
army” (Hoc voluerunt. Tantis rebus gestis Caius Caesar condemnatus essem,
nisi ab exercitu auxilium petissem). As both an eyewitness and a literary ex-
pert, Pollio criticized the accuracy of Caesar’s commentaries on the Civil
War and provided much accurate information in the final version of his
own Histories, which covered the period from the establishment of the First
Triumvirate down to the deaths of Brutus and Cassius; utilized by later his-
torians and biographers for centuries, Pollio’s account contained insights
and critical understanding vital to a solid appreciation of the era in which
he lived most of his life.
Still in the prime of life by Roman standards, Pollio had retired per-
haps for the very purpose of preserving and extending that life. The en-
suing years saw the increasing tensions between Antony and Octavian
explode into yet another Civil War; Pollio stayed out of the whole business,
64
recording developments in his writings from the sidelines, survived, despite

his disagreement with the policies of the victor, and left a respected name
for future generations.
See also: Aeneid (Virgil); Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army;
Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cato (95–46 BCE);
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE); Conspir-
acy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Crossing the
Rubicon; Curio (d. 49 BCE); Illyricum; Legions; Lepidus the Triumvir
(d. 12 BCE); Letters; Libertas/Dominatio; Memoirs; Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE); Optimates; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Senate; Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE); Spain; Triumphs/
Trophies; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Adcock, F. E. 1956. Caesar as Man of Letters. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Ltd.
Laistner, M.L.W. 1977. The Greater Roman Historians. Berkeley and Los Angeles:
Shackleton Bailey, D. R. 1978. Cicero’s Letters to Atticus. New York: Penguin Pub-
lishing.
Shackleton Bailey, D. R. 1978. Cicero’s Letters to His Friends. New York: Penguin
Publishing.

After Julius Caesar lost his only legitimate child, his daughter Julia, in
54 BCE, he had to seriously consider to whom he would leave his sizable for-
tune. He had no sons from any of his three marriages; he could not, under
Roman law, leave his estate to Caesarion, his illegitimate son by his mistress,
Cleopatra VII of Egypt. Furthermore, Roman custom demanded that he
try to pass on his family name and traditions to a male relative or friend;
this often involved adopting that young man as one’s own son. His niece,
Atia (or Atia Secunda), provided the heir Caesar needed in the person of
her son, Octavius (we call him Octavian), who would go on to become the
first emperor of Rome.
65
Atia’s connection with Caesar was a close one: her mother was the
younger of his two sisters, both older than him, though, and both named
Julia. Atia’s mother Julia had married M. Atius Balbus, whose family came
from the Latin town of Aricia (modern Ariccia), about sixteen miles south
of Rome. The political opponents of their grandson, Octavian, especially
Marc Antony, later attempted in every which way to denigrate his ancestry
from the Atii Balbi, accusing them of engaging in low-class business ven-
tures. Political mudslinging aside, the family of Atius could take justifiable
pride in the fact that many of its members had risen in politics to become
senators of Rome. Certainly, this had factored into the decision of Julia’s
parents to arrange the match with Atius, whose family would have benefit-
ted, in turn, from association with the ancient house of the Julii Caesares.
Later in his life, Atius himself could also boast of his mother Pompeia, who
was the aunt of Pompey the Great. Atia, then, second cousin to Pompey
and niece to Caesar, had very close blood relation to the two men who
would rip the Republic apart in Civil War.
Around 70 BCE, Atius and Julia arranged Atia’s marriage to C. Octavius
from the town of Velitrae (modern Velletri). His family held equestrian
status, which would have been a step down from the senatorial rank of
her parents, but the Octavii of Velitrae had great wealth to offer as com-
pensation. Since Octavius had already been married once before, to An-
charia, he probably brought their daughter, Octavia the Elder, into his
new marriage with Atia (at least for the first few years or so, until Octa-
via’s own marriage). Atia herself gave him another daughter, Octavia the
Younger, and a son and namesake, Octavian. Four years after the boy’s
birth, however, Octavius died suddenly, leaving Atia a young widow of
about twenty-six.
Within a year, she already remarried, to L. Marcius Philippus, an older
senator of outstanding lineage who had just completed a governorship in
the new Roman province of Syria (roughly the western half of today’s Syria
plus Lebanon). Like her first husband, Philippus also had a child from a
previous union, a son in his late teens or early twenties, who may or may
not have lived at home at the time; this younger Philippus, in fact, even-
tually married Atia’s little sister, Atia the Younger, and stood against the
enemies of Caesar in the Senate who pushed for Civil War against him. At
the same time, the elder Philippus found himself passed over by the Senate
in the selection of command positions, likely because of his connections to
Caesar’s family through his wife and his sister-in-law/daughter-in-law.
Atia’s two children grew up, then, in a complicated, blended family,
but apparently also a stable one. They would have had the support also of
their maternal grandparents, Julia and Atius, and of their maternal great-
grandmother, Aurelia, even, apparently, of their very old paternal grandfa-
ther Octavius, and, certainly, of their maternal great-uncle, Caesar.
66
Atia’s mother, Julia, seems to have taken a keen interest in the rearing of
Octavian until her death, when he was twelve years old; perhaps he spent
many of those early years living in her house. Atia, in the raising of both
her children, followed in the footsteps of her grandmother, Aurelia, who
had dedicated herself, after her husband’s passing, to a very traditional ap-
proach. According to Tacitus, a major historian under the later emperors,
Atia personally instructed her son (and certainly her daughter as well), in-
stead of relying on trained slaves to do so, and thereby instilled proper
speech and behavior, and inculcated the value of doing one’s best at every-
thing one pursued. She also hired teachers, whom she and Philippus, a very
active stepfather, supervised relentlessly.
Atia maintained a spotless reputation and made sure that her children did
as well. She seems to have been especially concerned that young Octavian,
who was “a hot property” as a close, male relative of Julius Caesar, not be
taken advantage of, especially by ambitious women. So, she held her son
to the same high standards of modesty and behavior, both in private and
in public, as herself; Octavian could not “party” like the other upper-class
youth of his generation.
Unlike other aristocratic women of her day, especially those as well con-
nected as she was, Atia seems to have had little involvement in politics. She
also refused to allow her son to participate in the Civil War between Cae-
sar and Pompey and, even though he had reached his fourteenth year (the
legal age of manhood), she would not permit him to live elsewhere than
at home, where he remained under the same strict conditions as when he
was a child. It was not until the last campaign of the Civil War, the battle
in Spain between Caesar and Pompey’s eldest son in 45 BCE, that Octavian
disobeyed his mom and went off to war, refusing to take her with him when
she tried to come along. Nevertheless, when he returned to Rome, then
age eighteen, he still chose to live very near his parents’ house and to spend
most of his free time with them, surely a testimony to the close family Atia
and Philippus had created.
After the assassination of her great-uncle, Atia learned that he had left
most of his estate, and his name, to Octavian, in his will; Caesar had also
left instructions to Atia for the conduct of his funeral (which, in the end,
got out of hand because of popular uproar at his murder). She sent word
to Octavian, then studying abroad in western Greece, to return home as
quickly as possible for his own protection and the safety of the family, since
it was feared all of Caesar’s relatives might be in peril. On his return to Italy,
however, another letter reached him from Atia, who wrote to express her
grave misgivings about whether he should even accept the inheritance from
Caesar; she recognized the possibilities for glory and fortune in doing so
but also feared the dangerous risks. Atia’s husband, however, had no doubt
that Octavian should avoid the bequest and stay out of politics. Philippus
67
could not convince the ambitious young man, though, and stubbornly re-
fused to call the latter by his new name, C. Julius Caesar the Younger; Atia
reluctantly consented to do so, but otherwise remained neutral, except for
calling upon the famous orator and statesman, Cicero, to defend her son’s
interests.
When Octavian eventually decided to turn against the Senate and march
on Rome in the summer of 43 BCE to demand extraordinary honors, in-
cluding a consulship, he placed the members of his family, especially Atia
and his sister, Octavia, in great jeopardy. Octavian’s adversaries sought to
seize them as hostages with which to bargain. Mother and sister went into
hiding until Octavian arrived with armed forces and got his way from the
Senate.
Despite the many dreams and other mystical experiences that she, and
her first husband, had had regarding their son, which, to Roman minds,
convincingly demonstrated that Octavian had a divinely mandated destiny
of greatness, Atia seems to have resisted this. Though she appears to have
been religiously scrupulous in her life, perhaps she did not really fully be-
lieve in such things. Perhaps she simply did not want to see her son suffer
the same fate as her uncle, Caesar. Fortunately, her son had not set himself
on a path to self-destruction. Unfortunately, Atia did not live to see Octa-
vian rise to become Augustus; she passed away about eighteen months after
Caesar’s assassination.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Caesarion (47–30 BCE);
Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Dreams/Dream Interpretation; Equites; Julia
(d. 54 BCE); Names; Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE); Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE)
Further Reading
Bauman, R. A. 1992. Women and Politics in Ancient Rome. London and New York:
Routledge.
Benario, N. 1991. Tacitus: Agricola, Germany, and Dialogue on Orators. 2nd ed.
Norman: University of Oklahoma Press.
Dixon, S. 1992. The Roman Family. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University
Press.
Everitt, A. 2006. Augustus. New York: Random House.
Gardner, J. F. 1991. Women in Roman Law and Society. Reprint ed. Bloomington:
Indiana University Press.
Hall, C. M. 2010. Nicolaus of Damascus: Life of Augustus. Whitefish, MT: Kess-
inger Publishing.
68
lishing.
Augustus. See Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE)

Despite the patrician heritage of the Julii Caesares, Caesar’s paternal re-
lations, they had not achieved much in the way of distinction in recent
Roman history. The plebeian Aurelii Cottae, the family of his mother, on
the other hand, had become quite politically successful in the fifty years be-
fore Caesar’s birth and would continue to harvest such success in the first
forty years of his lifetime. Aurelia and her family played an important part
in Caesar’s rise to prominence.
Caesar’s father, also named C. Julius Caesar, made it as high in the cur-
sus honorum, the successive ranks of elective office, as the praetorship—a
strong showing, but short of the high expectations within the Roman po-
litical elite. By contrast, his mother’s father and grandfather, both named
L. Aurelius Cotta, had each attained the consulship, the most impor-
tant elective office; his maternal cousins, Caius, Marcus, and Lucius, later
did the same. They had all achieved and maintained considerable status
within the government of their time, whereas all Caesar’s father could re-
ally boast of was a very aristocratic lineage (stretching back to the earliest
days of Rome) and ties to the ambivalent figure of General Marius, hus-
band of his sister Julia, who had become a hero to some and a villain to
others.
Aurelia’s relatives, then, clearly possessed the greater political leverage
in Rome of the early first century BCE and, though they did cooperate with
Marius’s chief adversary, General Sulla, they also employed that leverage
to maintain a stance on policy independent from his. In fact, within a de-
cade of Sulla’s Dictatorship of 81 BCE, the Aurelii Cottae had succeeded
in reversing some of his most repressive measures. For example, the eldest
of the three cousins, Caius Aurelius Cotta, who held the consulship in
75 BCE, a mere three years after Sulla’s death, put through a law that partly
restored the office of plebeian tribune; Sulla had reduced that magistracy
practically to impotence, not even allowing those who held it to seek any
further positions in the government. Caius’s law gave them back at least
that opportunity. A law from his brother Lucius, praetor in 70 BCE, rein-
stated members of the equestrian order, who had been severely punished
by Sulla for siding with his enemies, as jurors in Rome’s highest law courts,
69
and balanced their jury service alongside senators and the so-called tribuni
aerarii (a third segment of the Roman elite). These reforms made the Au-
relii Cottae heroes of the common people and of the upper classes outside
the Senate, marking them off as pragmatic and moderate politicians, rather
than died-in-the-wool Optimates, the hard-line senators who opposed re-
form.
Family feeling, also, was not lost on the Aurelii Cottae, who did not
abandon their cousin, Aurelia’s boy, when the latter found himself on the
hit list of Sulla; the latter saw in young Julius Caesar “many Mariuses.” In-
stead, they came to Caesar’s aid, pleading with the then dictator Sulla not
to execute or exile the nineteen year old. The Aurelii, then, saved Caesar’s
life.
In the years to come, his connection to the family brought him (and
them) both blessings and curses. On the one hand, when his cousin, Caius
Aurelius Cotta, passed away in 73 BCE, leaving a vacancy in the college of
pontifices (the most important association of Roman priests), respect for
family ties may very well have contributed to the co-optation of the twenty-
seven-year-old Caesar as his replacement. On the other hand, his cousin,
Lucius Aurelius Cotta, was deliberately passed over for provincial command
in 49 BCE despite his eligibility as a former consul (65 BCE) very likely be-
cause of his relationship to Caesar, who was then the target of the Senate at
the start of a new Civil War; coincidentally, L. Marcius Philippus, Caesar’s
nephew by marriage, was also cut out of consideration for a provincial post-
ing, despite his clear qualifications.
Five years later, the same Lucius Aurelius Cotta planned to utilize his
position as a priest of the college known as the Fifteen to legitimize a sena-
torial motion declaring his cousin Caesar as king of all the Roman terri-
tories outside of Italy; an ancient oracle within the famous collection of
CAESARIAN SECTION
Folk legend attributes the birth of Julius Caesar to this very ancient
procedure, now known as Caesarian section, whereby a doctor cuts
open a mother’s abdomen and uterus to deliver her child. There is no
evidence for this or even any hint in that direction within our sources,
however. The attribution probably goes back to Pliny the Elder, the
famous Roman naturalist of the first century CE, who identified one
of Caesar’s ancestors, in fact, as having been born in this way and
thereby argued for the etymology of the family name “Caesar” from
the Latin caesum meaning “cut” or “cut open.”
70
prophecies called the Sibylline Books had been interpreted by the Fifteen,
no doubt with influence and/or pressure from Cotta, to mean that only a
king could conquer the Parthian Empire (comprising much of the Middle
East at that time), which Caesar planned to attack. Cotta’s intention sent
shockwaves through the Roman Senate, precipitating, in part, the assassi-
nation of Caesar by Brutus, Cassius, and the other “enemies of tyranny.”
As for Aurelia, the Imperial historian Tacitus later wrote that Romans es-
pecially remembered Caesar’s mother for personally seeing to the raising of
her son, just as Cornelia, mother of the famous Gracchi brothers, had once
done; this marked off Caesar’s mom as quite old-fashioned for her time
period, in which it had become customary for most aristocratic mothers
to turn their children, male or female, over to nurses and nannies from the
very moment of birth. In contrast, Aurelia followed the old way of instruct-
ing her son (and most likely his two elder sisters, both named Julia, as well)
“at her own knee,” inculcating in him proper speaking habits and good be-
havior, demanding the best from him in his studies and his fun time. Her
example certainly passed down the generations, since her granddaughter,
Atia Secunda, child of the younger Julia, raised her own son, Octavian, the
future Emperor Augustus, in the same manner.
Aurelia’s husband passed away when their son was only about fifteen
years old. By that time, Caesar’s sisters would already have been married,
the eldest to either Pinarius or Pedius (we do not know the order in which
she married her two recorded husbands), the other to M. Atius Balbus, and
living in their own homes. Caesar continued to reside with his mom, appar-
ently in the family home, even after he himself married Cornelia, daughter
of the then consul, L. Cornelius Cinna. Indeed, Aurelia seems to have al-
ways lived with her son, even when he became Pontifex Maximus, chairman
of the pontifices noted above, and moved into the official residence called
the Domus Publica.
This would explain how she was able always to keep such a sharp eye on
his second wife, Pompeia. Evidently, Caesar’s mother was a tough lady of
very strict virtues. As in many traditional cultures, she would have acted
as chaperone for her young daughter-in-law whenever she went out; in
addition, it is suggested by the Greek biographer Plutarch that Caesar’s
house was divided into a section where males were allowed and a section
where they were not; this Greek tradition of the gynaikonitis, the women’s
quarters, would have allowed Aurelia even greater supervision over her
daughter-in-law.
For example, during the scandal at the Bona Dea ceremony in 62 BCE,
it was Aurelia who took charge (perhaps she was in charge from the start,
despite the role that was supposed to be played by Pompeia, as Caesar’s
wife, in the proceedings) when a man was discovered in the midst of the
female participants; she not only covered up the sacred objects so that
71
they could not be seen by him but also ordered the locking of all the
doors of the house and a thorough search of the premises for the man in
hiding.
Caesar shared a lot with his mom, regarding her as an intimate confi-
dante. For instance, when he campaigned for the position of Pontifex Max-
imus, he racked up considerable debts, taking out loans from prominent
Romans to bribe the voters against the more distinguished rival candidates.
On the morning of the vote, Aurelia, weeping, walked him to the door of
their home, and he kissed her goodbye; apparently both of them feared for
his safety should he lose this election and not be able to pay back the money
he had borrowed. Caesar warned her that he would not return home (and
perhaps he would be exiled) if he did not win the priesthood and thereby
a political future.
Aurelia must have helped her son through many personal struggles of
his life, including the death of his first wife, Cornelia, in 69 BCE and the di-
vorce from Pompeia in 62 BCE, and was there for the joyful things, like his
third marriage to Calpurnia three years later. Since fathers rarely had a hand
in the upbringing of their daughters, Aurelia probably supervised the rais-
ing of her granddaughter Julia, about four years old when her own mom
passed away, and later the young girl’s preparation for marriage to Pompey
in 59 BCE.
It seems from reading the Imperial biographer Suetonius that Aurelia
was still alive to see Julia die from complications of childbirth in 54 BCE
before herself passing away in that same year. On a more positive note, Au-
relia had lived long enough to see the marriage of another granddaughter,
Atia Secunda, and perhaps of a third, Atia Tertia, as well as the birth of
Atia Secunda’s children, Octavia and Octavian, and perhaps of Atia Tertia’s
daughter, Marcia; she had even seen her great-granddaughter Octavia her-
self get married. Whether Aurelia’s other granddaughter, Atia Prima, ever
married is unknown. Finally, she would have seen her grandsons, L. Pina-
rius and Q. Pedius (the latter served as a legate to his uncle Caesar in the
Gallic wars) become grown-up young men.
In 69 BCE, during his service as quaestor (lieutenant governor) in Further
Spain (today’s southern Spain), Julius Caesar had a dream in which he slept
with his own mother. Deeply disturbed by this, he consulted the usual in-
terpreters of such things, who assured him that the dream should be taken
not literally but figuratively, as a prediction of his future conquest of Mother
Earth. Still, it poses an interesting question for modern psychology: consid-
ering the closeness of mother and son, did Caesar develop an Oedipus com-
plex for Aurelia? She was certainly the one woman, among the wives and
many mistresses in his life that he could always rely on and trust implicitly.
Perhaps his dream simply speaks to that bond, a bond that he found with
no one else in what must have been a lonely rise to power.
72
See also: Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE); Bona Dea; Calpurnia; Cinna the Elder (d.
84 BCE); Cornelia (d. 69 BCE); Debt Laws/Loans; Dreams/Dream Inter-
pretation; Elections; Julia (d. 54 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Mar-
ius (ca.157–86 BCE); Names; Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE); Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE); Optimates; Patricians; Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Pontifex
Maximus; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Routledge.
Norman: University of Oklahoma Press.
Dixon, S. 1992. The Roman Family. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.
Dryden, J., and A. H. Clough. 2001. Plutarch’s Lives. New York: Modern Library.
Ltd.
Indian University Press.
Press.
Kahn, A. 2000. The Education of Julius Caesar. Lincoln, NE: Authors Guild.
Meier, C. 1982. Caesar: A Biography. New York: Basic Books.
Wiseman, T. P. 1985. Roman Political Life 90 B.C.–A.D. 69. Exeter, UK: Exeter
University Press.
73
B
Balbus
Balbus
Julius Caesar surrounded himself not only with representatives of old sena-
torial families but also with the so-called new men, the first in their families
to achieve distinction as members of the Senate. In some respects, these
“new men” heralded the future of Rome, as devoted servants of their com-
mander, with minimal ties, if any, to the deeper traditions of the Republican
aristocracy and thus prepared to sacrifice that Republic for one-man rule.
Among such devoted “new men” in Caesar’s entourage was L. Cornelius
Balbus.
Balbus was born in the city of Gades (modern Cádiz), a very ancient set-
tlement of Tyrians (Phoenicians from ancient Lebanon) in southern Spain,
famous for its abundant supplies of fish and trading connections with the
silver mines of inland Spain and the tin producers along the northeastern
Atlantic coastline as far as Britain. Gades fell under Roman control during
the Second Punic War in the late third century BCE, and by the early first
century, some of its prominent inhabitants received Roman citizenship as a
reward for loyalty to the empire in the person of General Pompey, who de-
feated Sertorius, a famous Roman rebel, in Spain. As was customary, these
new citizens adopted for themselves Roman names. L. Cornelius Balbus
and his nephew of the same name were among these new Romans, both
formally sponsored by Pompey’s friend, L. Cornelius Lentulus Crus.
The elder Balbus developed a lucrative business as a banker, which, in the
Roman world, meant that one had sufficient clout to provide a secure place
for deposits and sufficient wealth of one’s own to provide loans at interest.
He did this at Rome, which became his place of residence after his enfran-
chisement by Pompey. Contacts in Spain likely provided some of the finan-
cial resources necessary for a business such as his (e.g., access to some of the
profits coming out of the Spanish silver mines), but the lion’s share of the
wealth came from his fortuitous adoption by one of Pompey’s key Greek
advisors, Theophanes of Mytilene (also enfranchised, thanks to Pompey).
It was not at all unusual in the Roman world for adults, especially adult
males, to be adopted as heirs to a family’s possessions and reputation. The
extent of the wealth Balbus thus inherited and accumulated is suggested by
the fact that he later left twenty-five denarii to every male citizen of Rome
in his will.
Balbus remained loyal to Pompey but also began to work closely for
Julius Caesar when the latter served as governor of the Roman province
of Further Spain (today’s southern Spain) in the late 60s BCE; Caesar ap-
pointed Balbus as commander of his army’s engineering corps, a position
of some prestige and, even more, of critical importance in Roman military
operations. Caesar also visited Gades, Balbus’s hometown; the priests there,
engaging in rituals that went back to their roots in Lebanon, predicted great
77
Balbus
power for him, perhaps another reason for the increasing trust he placed in
Balbus. As governor of Transalpine Gaul (today’s southern France), a few
years later, Caesar again took Balbus with him in the same position as be-
fore; not long afterward, he released him from active service so that, while
he himself was away in Gaul, Balbus might act as his agent for his affairs
(especially financial ones) in Italy.
His close association with Pompey, and increasingly close connection to
Caesar, and his status as an outsider and newcomer to the intimate world of
Roman politics, certainly played their part in Balbus being hauled into the
Roman law courts in 56 BCE. The opponents of Caesar and Pompey sought
in those years to bring a number of their “henchmen” to book, sometimes
on legitimate charges, sometimes not, but always with an eye to attacking
the “bigger fish” by nibbling away at the “small fry.” In Balbus’s case, the
charge was that he was masquerading as a Roman citizen under false pre-
tences, clearly one of those trumped-up accusations with little to stand on.
Pompey’s old friend, the famous orator, M. Tullius Cicero, handled Bal-
bus’s defense, delivering a speech (Pro Balbo) that is still extant. Balbus’s
acquittal exasperated the political opposition.
In the next several years, Balbus found himself in a rapidly changing po-
litical environment, as the links between his two patrons broke down and
their opponents took advantage of Pompey’s naïve desire to be “the hero
of the Republic” to pit him against Caesar, forcing the latter into Civil War.
Balbus, at first, was among those few who argued for peace and reconcilia-
tion and, naturally, he was ideally placed to promote such an approach. Ci-
cero exchanged letters with him and with others about his efforts; Balbus
hoped that Cicero would remain friendly toward Caesar should war break
out. In December 50 BCE, when civil war seemed imminent, he arranged a
meeting with Pompey’s father-in-law, Metellus Scipio, on behalf of Caesar,
though nothing came of it. When his efforts at averting the conflict failed,
Balbus took Caesar’s side, asserting in a letter to Cicero that he was pre-
pared to die for Caesar’s sake. He still had affection for Pompey, however,
and so he tried to assure Cicero multiple times that Caesar sought peace,
that the break with Pompey had been the fault of others, and urged Cicero
to help him heal the breach between the two generals while they were still
both in Italy. The letters of Balbus convey the anxious urgency with which
he approached this matter, as well as his deep longing for a peaceful reso-
lution.
Balbus’s nephew, the younger L. Cornelius Balbus, also worked for Cae-
sar, for example, on a secret mission to communicate with Lentulus Crus
(then consul) a month and a half after Caesar’s invasion of Italy in an at-
tempt to persuade the consul to cooperate with Caesar and help end the
conflict before it really got too heated; their meeting never took place,
however. This younger Balbus did visit Cicero, though, and told him that
78
Balbus
Caesar wished to meet with Pompey directly and smooth over their differ-
ences. This cool-down also never happened and, instead, the war kicked
into higher gear.
Cicero did follow the advice of both Balbi in attempting a reconcilia-
tion with Caesar for Pompey’s sake, but he struggled to believe Caesar’s
professed intentions and to trust the Balbi as well. Nevertheless, uncle and
nephew remained constant friends to Cicero, even after he “defected” to
Pompey’s side (only to later request pardon from Caesar). They informed
him in detail on matters relating to Caesar, smoothed the way for his re-
turn into Caesar’s good graces (despite their own understandable anger),
and used the spoken and written word to keep him there (since personal
enemies in Caesar’s entourage frequently slandered Cicero). Caesar relied
heavily not only on the advice of both Balbi but also on their enormous
wealth (especially that of the elder), tapping into it to finance the massive
expenses of Civil War.
The elder Balbus stayed home during the fighting, but the younger
Balbus served in Caesar’s army, during the campaign against Pompey in
Greece. In the first two years of the Civil War, his primary mission was to
negotiate with the other side, attempting, on Caesar’s behalf, to minimize
the bloodshed. Ancient sources indicate that the younger Balbus became
one of Caesar’s most trusted advisors. Apparently, in the aftermath of the
Civil War, he even encouraged Caesar to assert his dominance over the Sen-
ate by not standing up to greet its members (a clear form of disrespect to-
ward them) when they came to confer upon him a number of honors. In
the ensuing months, as Caesar came to make more and more of his most
important decisions in private, he did consult with Balbus and a few others,
to the exclusion of members of the Senate more senior and more distin-
guished in terms of lineage than Balbus.
Balbus’s uncle, who himself had held no elective office in Rome, must
have been proud to see his nephew attain the very appropriate magistracy
of quaestor (financial official) in 44 BCE, in which capacity he continued
to serve even after Caesar’s assassination in that very year. The two Balbi
found themselves in a quandary from that point on, though, like other
supporters of Caesar now caught between Antony, the latter’s lieuten-
ant, and Octavian, the latter’s adopted son. The younger Balbus visited
Cicero two months after the assassination; in a rare (according to Ci-
cero) moment of candor, Balbus filled him in on Antony’s rapport with
the veterans of Caesar’s army, how Antony was urging them to remain
in readiness to fight for Caesar’s memory, and the political work he had
accomplished. Balbus also claimed to be Antony’s friend, but Cicero did
not believe this.
Antony probably intended to reward the elder Balbus with a political po-
sition, too; this, however, only materialized four years after Caesar’s death,
79
Basilica Julia
in the form of a suffect (fill-in) consulship. In that intervening time, Balbus

had supported Octavian (the future Emperor Augustus), and the latter’s
rise to prominence explains his own. Regardless of the reason, the elder
Balbus had made history, becoming the first Roman consul born in another
country. His nephew also made history, becoming the first foreign-born
Roman citizen given permission to dedicate a public building (a theater) in
the city of Rome.
He and his nephew never lost touch with their roots, though. The
younger Balbus became a major patron of Gades, for example. Three de-
cades after Caesar’s passing, he augmented their old hometown with a new
urban development nearby, renovating and multiplying the famous harbor
facilities as well. In honor of both Balbi, Augustus elevated the legal status
of the twin cities of Gades, which grew even greater in wealth and prestige
from extensive Mediterranean and Atlantic trade over the next hundred
years.
Unlike the competitive old aristocracy of Rome, the “new men” of Cae-
sar’s time, such as the elder and the younger Balbus, hitched their wagons
to the stars of other men, leaving the big risks and grand honors to these,
while achieving influence and attaining wealth for themselves. They per-
formed much-needed service to the “great men” of their day and survived
to reap the rewards.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Citizenship; Coinage/Money; Debt Laws/Loans; Magistrates/
Cursus Honorum; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Oppius and Hirtius;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Spain; Trade
Further Reading
Gardner, R. 1958. Cicero: Orations (Pro Caelio. De Provinciis Consularibus. Pro
Balbo). Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Syme, R. 1939. The Roman Revolution. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
Wiseman, T. P. 1971. New Men in the Roman Senate, 139 B.C.–A.D. 14. Oxford,
UK: Oxford University Press.
Basilica Julia
Located in the Roman Forum between the ancient Vicus Jugarius (Street
of the Ropemakers), Via Sacra (Sacred Way), and Vicus Tuscus (Etruscan
Street), the Basilica Julia was begun by Julius Caesar in 54 BCE to replace
the dilapidated old Basilica Sempronia which had stood at that location
since 170 BCE. Caesar did not witness the completion of the new building,
since that did not take place until around 10 BCE, over three decades after
80
Basilica Julia
Aerial view of the archaeological site of the Roman Forum, with the remains of
the Basilica Julia. As part of his wider program of renovation in the city of Rome,
Caesar chose to construct this new meeting hall on the site of the previous Basilica
Sempronia. His heir, Octavian-Augustus, saw to the completion of the project.
(Alinari Archives/Corbis)
his assassination. Still, we may assume that his great-nephew, the Emperor
Augustus, who saw the project through to its end, preserved his uncle Cae-
sar’s intentions for the basilica.
The structure eventually measured approximately 330 feet in length and
160 feet in width, surpassing in surface area the Basilica Aemilia, which
faced it directly across the Forum. It stood atop a low, stone platform ap-
proached by a series of steps from the three sides that faced the Forum;
the facade thus presented, of columned porticoes in two stories, must
have made a very grand impression on the visitor from the Forum side.
The core of the Basilica, paved in white marble, consisted of a rectangu-
lar hall stretching directly upward to two stories in height, with a clere-
story, a sort of elongated skylight with windows, about one-third the area
of the rest of the building, topping things off as a third level. The central
portion of the hall itself measured about 260 feet by 60 feet and was sur-
rounded on all sides by two rows of columns to create two aisles on every
side, above which were viewing galleries. All of this was enclosed by four
walls of imported marble in a variety of colors (also apparently used to
81
Belgae
construct the columns) which separated the interior of the building from
the exterior porticoes all around. Finally, the back side of the basilica, fac-
ing to the south away from the Forum, could not be approached directly
since what the Romans called the Tabernae Veteres or “Old Shops,” which
used to be located out in front of the previous Basilica Sempronia, had
been moved there; one entered these now through a single-level facade of
archways flanked by engaged columns.
The Greeks, from whom the Romans learned the basic architectural
forms of the basilica, probably developed such buildings first as audience
halls for the kings of the Hellenistic era. The Romans, however, used basili-
cas for a variety of public purposes. The Basilica Julia functioned primarily
as the meeting place for the centumviral court, selected each year to hear
cases involving inheritances and perhaps also other matters of family law.
The 105 members of the court divided into groups and spread out amid
the aisles of the building, each group separated from another simply by cur-
tains attached to the columns.
Certainly, Caesar chose this project not just to make his mark in a promi-
nent spot in the Forum, but very likely also because of the Popularis asso-
ciations of the old basilica; it had been built by T. Sempronius Gracchus,
father of the most famous Popularis tribunes, Tiberius and Caius Gracchus.
By “rebuilding” their father’s structure, Caesar connected himself to their
memory and all that it stood for in the hearts of the Roman People. In ad-
dition, the entire design, and especially the materials used, cost a fortune,
illustrating the wealth of Caesar and his heir, but also demonstrating the
reach of the Roman Empire, the exotic resources that could be brought to-
gether to construct one building in the capital city.
See also: Forum Romanum; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14CE); Populares
Further Reading
Books.
Rome. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
Ward-Perkins, J. 1981. Roman Imperial Architecture. New Haven, CT: Yale Uni-
versity Press.
Belgae
The lands today known as northeastern France, Belgium, southwestern
Holland, and Luxemburg comprised what the Romans referred to as Gallia
82
Belgae
Belgica, that is, the portion of Gaul inhabited by the Belgae (from which
the modern word Belgium derives). This term covered not one but a num-
ber of tribes, most of whom had migrated across the Rhine River into Gaul
from Germany. Caesar, the first Roman commander to come into contact
with the Belgae, found them to be a constant challenge to the growing
power of the empire in that part of Europe.
Any student of Caesar’s Latin commentary on his wars in Gaul will re-
member how he separates Gallia Belgica from the rest of Gaul because he
considers the Belgae as clearly braver than any of the other Gallic peoples.
He credits this to their proximity to Germany, which provided the Belgae
with the challenge of frequent warfare from a race of great warriors; of
course, the German ancestry of the Belgae made them much of a match for
their cousins to the east. In addition, Caesar believed that their society was
free of the vices that came with a high level of civilization, Greek or Roman;
unlike Gallic populations in the south of France, long influenced by such
civilized cultures and thus made “weaker,” the Belgae maintained a cultural
“purity” that gave them great strength of character. So, Caesar had high
praise for the peoples of Gallia Belgica.
They, on the other hand, saw the reach of Roman power encroaching
closer and closer upon their territories and determined to do something
to stop its advance. This did not sit well with Caesar, who, of course, as a
typical Roman, could not truly appreciate the realistic fears of Roman ex-
pansionism and never even considered negotiating with the Belgae to allay
those fears; indeed, he seems to have regarded the movement of the Belgae
as a sort of fanatical nationalism. From Caesar’s perspective, the Belgic “up-
rising” had to be stopped.
A Belgic confederacy of fifteen tribes, led by the Bellovaci, Suessio-
nes, and Nervii, had formed to mount a massive assault on the Roman-
dominated lands of central Gaul; they could field, according to Caesar’s
exaggerated estimates, nearly eight times as many warriors as the soldiers
at his disposal. Not all the Belgae worked together against Rome; one
tribe, the Remi, conspicuously held back and soon sided with Caesar,
providing him all sorts of helpful intelligence on the opposing force. The
Roman commander also had the support of his government’s old allies
in central Gaul, the Aedui, whose military forces launched a preemptive
strike into the territory of the Bellovaci.
By the time they did so, however, the united armies of the Belgic con-
federacy had already marched into the lands of the Remi, engaging Caesar’s
army in defense of one of the Remian towns and the Roman military camp
nearby. The Belgae surrounded their foes, rained a hail of stones at them,
and then, behind locked shields, rushed their defensive works, in a forma-
tion similar to the Roman testudo or tortoise. Caesar discovered that they
were formidable adversaries, contemptuous of death. But daring maneuvers
83
Belgae
against the Romans won them no victory and only cost them many lives;
the Belgic leaders decided to retreat to their homeland, wait for the Ro-
mans to follow, and then trap and destroy them on familiar turf.
This suited Caesar just fine, since he could pursue the enemy, utilize
his cavalry to harass and cut down their rearguard on the march, and then
conquer each Belgic contingent separately as they divided for home. Siege
operations against the Suessiones terrified that tribe into quick surrender;
even the warriors of the Bellovaci, pushed by their women, children, and
elderly, and by the forces of the Aedui, sued for peace with Rome. The
most resistant of the Belgae, the Nervii and those smaller tribes beholden
to them, all of whom lived further north, were disgusted at the news of
their cousins surrendering so disgracefully to Caesar; they pointedly refused
to do so.
Caesar’s forces crossed into Nervian territory to find that most of the
population had withdrawn into inaccessible swamps; the Nervian war-
riors and their allies followed the tactic of repeatedly emerging from dense
woodland (which they had further “fortified” with rows and rows of felled
trees), attacking the Roman troops quickly, and then just as suddenly re-
treating back into cover. They rushed at Caesar’s encampment atop a hill
near the Sambre River, and the legions taking up their positions there did
fairly well defending it, in the midst of terrible confusion all around, but
their right wing suffered heavy losses under direct Nervian assault; Caesar
himself rushed to the scene to rally the troops and reorient their tactics,
placing himself in the greatest danger in the front lines of the fighting.
Reinforcements from other legions, especially the famous Tenth, reinvigo-
rated the Roman right wing and saved the day. The enemy refused to give
up, though; as the Roman soldiers cut them down with javelin and sword,
the Nervii simply stood atop the bodies of their slain comrades and contin-
ued the struggle until almost all of them were killed.
Caesar promised peace to the Nervian people as a whole, whose elders
came out of hiding to negotiate with the Roman commander; he assured
them of Roman fair treatment and protection, as long as they caused no
further trouble. Similar terms were made with other resistant Belgae, ex-
cept the Aduatuci, who feigned surrender and then launched a surprise
assault on the Romans, which ended in the bloody capture of their strong-
hold and the sale of all their goods and people (as slaves).
Even after these defeats, and perhaps, we might say, because of them,
many Belgic tribes remained restless under Roman suzerainty. Caesar had
to face off against them again when they followed the warlord Ambiorix of
the Eburones in rebellion three years later. In fact, the Belgae continued to
pose a challenge to Rome for close to three decades.
See also: Aedui; Ambiorix; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Germans; Tenth Legion
84
Bellum Civile (Caesar)
Further Reading
University Press.
California Press.

Contributing to a literary tradition of memoir writing in the Latin language
that had developed early in the last century BCE, Caesar composed two such
commentarii, as the Romans called them, one on his military campaigns in
Gaul and the other on the Civil War between him and his rivals in Rome.
Today, we call the latter simply Bellum Civile or The Civil War. Probably
among the papers left in the hands of his executor, Marc Antony, not pub-
lished until after Caesar’s assassination in the spring of 44 BCE, and then
perhaps within the remainder of that year in conjunction with the works of
A. Hirtius, the Bellum Civile served principally to justify Caesar’s actions in
waging war against his own country.
In three books, the extant text of the Bellum Civile covers the period
from January 49 BCE, when the Civil War began and Caesar invaded Italy,
through October or so of 48 BCE, when Caesar arrived in Egypt to discover
that his chief rival, Pompey, had been murdered with the consent of King
Ptolemy XIII; Caesar proceeded to embroil himself in the war between the
king and his sister Cleopatra VII. The work starts abruptly, not where we
would expect Caesar to have done so, and thus must have several chapters
missing at the beginning; it ends suddenly as well, but scholars regard this
as deliberate on Caesar’s part, either connected to the fact that Pompey was
dead (and so a whole new chapter had opened in Caesar’s career and his
relationship to the Republic) or that Caesar’s successes after that point did
not require further justification in the form of commentaries.
Caesar’s commentary is virtually intact, a result of the admiration for his
style held by later generations, the importance of the events he recorded,
and, of course, the significance of the author himself in the overall history
of Rome. Unfortunately, the commentaries of other prominent Romans
do not survive except as fragments, excerpts quoted in the writings of later
authors. This means that thorough comparison of their approach with Cae-
sar’s is not possible.
Like other memoirists, Caesar drew upon the traditions of eulogy, annal-
istic chronicle, and official reports in creating his account of the Civil War.
85
From the last two especially Caesar probably learned how to convey an air
of “objectivity” in his writing, further enhanced by that famous feature of
both his memoirs, referring to himself almost exclusively in the third per-
son. In doing so, he created for his reader the impression of an anonymous,
omniscient, eye witness reporter, who recorded all the events of the conflict
in the most clear, rational, unbiased manner. The famous orator Cicero,
whom most modern scholars regard as the greatest master of classical Latin,
praised Caesar’s writings as nudi, recti et venusti, that is, “undisguised,
straightforward, and charming.” This simple style, lacking the purple pas-
sages and complex vocabulary found in the speech-making of the day (like
Cicero’s own) and yet so smooth-flowing and often riveting—which has
made Caesar’s work such a hit among school teachers and students of Latin
for so many generations—contributed to the “evident credibility” of his
version of events.
In reality, of course, Caesar was the very biased author of a story about
his own exploits and the justifications for them; he could slip his judgments
into place wherever he wished under the cover of appearing to be report-
ing “just the facts.” Also, every once in a while, he allowed his own views to
come through more explicitly, tipping his hand and revealing his authorship.
Furthermore, Caesar was obviously not everywhere at once in a conflict that
covered the entire Mediterranean world. To construct his narrative, he had
to bring together his own observations with the carefully selected testimony
and written documentation provided by others, including such sources of
information as intelligence reports and debriefings from prisoners of war
and from those who came over to him from the opposing side.
This gave Caesar a lot of ground to cover, a task that might have sub-
sumed him and his readers in an ocean of details, if he had not developed
certain organizing strategies. First of all, like some of the classical Greek his-
torians who came before him, Caesar did not try to talk about everything
at once, no matter how contemporaneous. Instead, he established certain
series of events, following and discussing them until reaching a convenient
point in their development, usually their resolution. After finishing one se-
ries of events, he would pick up a new series, even if that meant backtrack-
ing in time to do so. That is why the three books each actually consist of a
number of separate narratives, almost like the chapters in a novel by Charles
Dickens or other such long works of fiction knitted together from episodic
pieces. This approach gave Caesar greater control over the details he cov-
ered and greater opportunity to provide commentary or analysis of cause,
effect, motivation, and so on, along the way. His presentation had noth-
ing rushed or burdensome about it as a result. Also, since Caesar already
knew the outcome of certain series of events by the time he wrote about
them, he could interject prophetic sorts of statements that helped tie the
events together in the construction of the narrative and, as it would appear
86
to the reader, in reality as well. This occurred especially in the speeches he

recorded, clearly in imitation of the Greek historians who were so fond of
addressing and answering questions by putting words into the mouths of
their “characters.”
Second, Caesar freely omitted, downplayed, or minimized information
known to us from other sources when it did not serve to enhance his own
reputation and the image he hoped to promote. If he can pass over uncom-
fortable memories, such as his difficult escape from Pompey in the summer
of 48 BCE, he will do so and turn the attention of the reader to some more
optimistic aspect of developments. As far as the character or personalities of
his comrades and lieutenants, he spends very little attention on them. They
played essential roles in his successes, but, he would have us believe, only as
more or less effective extensions of his own initiative. They are reflections
of their general rather than rounded individuals in their own right. On the
other hand, Pompey’s associates come off as corrupt, liars, cowards, fools,
scoundrels, obstinate ideologues, ruthless sadists, in other words, all man-
ner of villains. Caesar does not generally pass up a chance to flesh out their
characters just a little more to knock them down; Pompey himself receives
minimal comment, but he is clearly suspect, considering the company he
keeps.
Lastly, Caesar incorporated something of the theatrical in his reflections.
Whether recounting his own or the battles commanded by his lieutenants,
he always seems to be setting a scene, staging the action, and then revealing
the consequences. His third-person voice contributes to this, placing him
in the role of omniscient narrator and lead actor at the same time. Unlike a
Greek tragedy, however, Caesar’s treatment of episodes in the narrative as a
whole and within each of the three books does not follow a pattern of im-
minent doom; instead, he repeatedly approaches events as a roller coaster
ride from high to low and back to high again.
What emerges from all this is a carefully blended mixture of solid ev-
idence and subtle propaganda; the Bellum Civile is at once a historical
source and a long “speech” in defense of Caesar’s military solution to his
political challenges. He does not blush from establishing himself as a sort of
heroic figure, almost from the start of the narrative fighting for his rights,
for his dignitas or sense of worthiness, for the Republic, for freedom, and
for his army. He does so while holding the unswerving loyalty of his offi-
cers and men and while also respecting his foes, with whom he always seems
willing to negotiate and whom he never willingly wishes to kill. One of the
strongest messages of the memoir, in fact, is that Pompey and his chief sub-
ordinates regarded all who did not side with them as enemies of the state,
as traitors meriting destruction, whereas Caesar regarded even his oppo-
nents as fellow citizens who deserved his clementia or mercifulness. Caesar
is at great pains throughout the narrative to prove, from the overwhelming
87
marshalling of “facts,” that his adversaries were in the wrong, that they
pushed him into a corner from which he could only escape by defending
himself militarily, and, in fact, that they, not he, were trampling on the cus-
toms of the Republic.
In the aftermath of Caesar’s murder, the posthumous publication of the
Bellum Civile would have served to fan the flames of further civil strife in
Rome among the heirs to Caesar and the opponents of the “tyrant.” His
memory and his legacy were at stake in the ideological warfare of the fol-
lowing decade and a half. Probably to this period also belong the Bellum
Alexandrinum or Alexandrian War (perhaps by Hirtius), the Bellum Afri-
cum or African War, and the Bellum Hispaniense or Spanish War. Together,
these three works, each of progressively inferior literary quality compared
to Caesar’s original, pick up where the Bellum Civile left off and carry the
story of Caesar’s victories through to his final defeat of opposition forces
in 45 BCE. Clearly, it was important to other authors to follow in Caesar’s
footsteps (or try to) and relevant to the reading audience, as Rome engaged
in another round of civil strife, to have the whole picture of what happened
in his time.
The remarks of Caesar’s former lieutenant and fellow historian, Asinius
Pollio, provide us with a good summation. Despite his personal closeness
with the great general, nonetheless Pollio commented on the Bellum Ci-
vile as weak on conscientiousness and weak on complete truthfulness; he
said that Caesar accepted information from others too trustingly and ei-
ther deliberately or through lapse of memory included erroneous informa-
tion about things he knew or experienced firsthand. No matter the validity
of this critique, such would not have detracted from the usefulness of the
memoir in the political arena of the time nor in its long-term purpose of
preserving a particular memory of Caesar for posterity.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Asinius Pollio
(76 BCE–4 CE); Balbus; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cicero, Marcus (106–43
BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE ); Education; Memoirs; Oppius and Hirtius; Or-
atory; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Propaganda; Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE)
Further Reading
Press.
Carter, J. 1997. Caesar: The Civil War. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
Dominik, W. ed. 1997. Roman Eloquence. London: Routledge.
Misch, G. 1951. A History of Autobiography in Antiquity. Cambridge, MA: Har-
vard University Press.
88
Bellum Gallicum (Caesar)
Riggsby, A. 2006. Caesar in Gaul and Rome: War in Words. Austin: University of
Texas Press.
Welch, K., and A. Powell. eds. 1998. Julius Caesar as Artful Reporter: The War Com-
mentaries as Political Instruments. London: Duckworth.
Yavetz, Z. 1983. Julius Caesar and His Public Image. London: Thames and
Hudson.

The first of Julius Caesar’s two memoirs or commentarii covered his mili-
tary campaigns in Gaul (roughly modern France, Belgium, southwestern
Holland, and western Germany) and Britain from 58 to 52 BCE. Probably
called Commentarius Gallicus in his own time (judging from the term used
by the Imperial biographer Suetonius), the Bellum Gallicum or Gallic Wars
(more literally, The Gallic War), as modern scholars call it, served to re-
mind all those who doubted his intentions that Caesar and his army were
engaged, on behalf of the Republic, in the dutiful expansion of the Roman
Empire.
The Bellum Gallicum was the only one of Caesar’s commentaries pub-
lished during his lifetime, perhaps even in separate installments, in which
case he would have worked up each book from his annual military reports
to the Senate and sent it home for dissemination. The seven books or di-
visions that make up the memoir each address the events of a particular
year or, more accurately, campaigning season roughly from spring to win-
ter. One of Caesar’s officers, A. Hirtius, later supplemented these with an
eighth book to complete the story of the conquest of Gaul with the events
of 51 BCE. He must have regarded this as an awesome task, since he is re-
corded as asserting that every critic considered Caesar’s writing faultless
and not to be improved upon by any enlargement.
Whether as a whole or in parts, the first seven books were out at least by
46 BCE, when Cicero commented on their high literary quality in one of his
own essays. The intended audience remains a mystery, since the commen-
tary could appeal both to those who sought to defend Caesar in the world
of senatorial politics and to the general populace hungry for a good story.
Following a now famous opening section on the geographical and cul-
tural divisions of Gaul, well-known to all modern students of Latin because
of its use in so many high school and college courses on the Roman lan-
guage, Caesar takes the reader on a fast-paced story of unsought conquests.
Like other Roman historians before and since, he never suggests that Rome
had any imperial ambitions in the region. Instead, from the invasion of
89
central Gaul by the Helvetii (a Celtic tribe from what would today be called
Switzerland) to the massive rebellion of the Gallic tribes under the leader-
ship of Vercingetorix, the Romans appear in Caesar’s narrative as the sav-
iors of peoples threatened by their neighbors or other groups impatient of
war, as the bringers of order and stability to a region of chaotic feuds and
predatory migrations. The call of a desperate Gallic tribe for help from the
Romans, or an assault against the Roman presence in an attempt to push
them out of the area, appears over and over again across the books. Either
scenario demanded a strong “national security” response from the Roman
side, acting in defense of its empire or its “friends.”
Not so surprisingly, since this was fairly traditional among Roman writ-
ers, Caesar presents the Gallic warriors as inventive, passionate, extremely
formidable adversaries, crediting them with a long history of military
prowess. Yet, he also disparages them considerably as a culture. He char-
acterizes them as idle by nature, credulous of rumors and lies, and poor
in judgment, motivated by greed, hatred, impulse, and panic, driven to
criminal action. Interestingly, and certainly not by accident, Caesar often
casts Gallic society as a reflection of his own: the commoners are crushed
by debt and taxes, victimized by the rich (who fear popular revolution),
voluntarily subservient to the latter to survive, and led astray by unprin-
cipled mischief-makers. At least some of the Gallic tribes prohibited wine
and luxury items, considered marks of effeminacy and decadence among
them, unlike in Rome.
When Caesar does praise the Gauls, no one among them receives more
than the Arvernian chieftain Vercingetorix, who emerges in the seventh
book as a worthy counterpart to Caesar himself, cunning, intelligent,
quick, and so on. Indeed, the Gallic rebel leader resembles Caesar a lit-
tle too closely: Vercingetorix, undaunted by his tribal opponents, arouses
every needy adventurer to his cause, determined to oust his enemies for
their insulting treatment of him. Caesar could not have missed the simi-
larities here, or in his earlier portrayal of the Aeduan chieftain, Dumnorix,
who, like Caesar, possessed boundless ambition, acquired great popularity
through remarkable generosity, and schemed to overthrow his own gov-
ernment. The characterizations of Vercingetorix and Dumnorix gibe per-
fectly with the critique from Caesar’s Roman rivals of his own conduct in
starting a Civil War against them.
Perhaps more peculiar to his narrative than others, Caesar does not shy
from admitting the mistakes, fears, doubts, even outright panic plaguing
his own troops on numerous occasions, nor even the worries of himself as
commander in chief. Overall, such admissions contribute to the impression
of the conquest of Gaul as a very daunting challenge, but, of course, one
that the Roman army and its leader did overcome in the long run. No ob-
stacle could prevent them from doing so, and the steeper and higher the
90
obstacle, one might say, the more credit Roman determination and skill
deserved for mastering it. After all, even the mighty Rhine River and the
Ocean itself did not hold back Caesar and his men.
Surprisingly, on occasion, Caesar does acknowledge the genuine fears
of the Gauls over the encroachment of the Roman army and the animos-
ity this generated against Rome. Yet, recognizing such concerns never
leads him to question the propriety or ethics of what Roman forces were
doing in Gaul; to do so would have been to question the entire spread of
Roman power across the Mediterranean world to that point. The expec-
tation of an empire builder is that conquered populations should stand
down and obey. Coming from a culture that believed the world always
consisted of conqueror and conquered, and seeing that the Gallic peo-
ples did not really operate on any different paradigm, asking questions
and expressing concerns would have made little difference to Caesar. In
the end, either Rome must win or it must lose; he intended that Rome
should win.
As to himself, Caesar carefully avoids ever mentioning that he actually
pushed the Senate, through nefarious means, into assigning him the ter-
ritory of Transalpine Gaul (today’s southern France) as his military prov-
ince, specifically with the motive in mind, well-established for him by other
sources, of obtaining military glory and spoils of war with which he could
better compete with his senatorial rivals and even with his own associates,
like Pompey the Great. Caesar had great plans for Gaul and saw at every
turn, even in the most dangerous circumstances, the chance to turn things
to his favor and attain notoriety.
Yet, he claimed to have no plans to behave tyrannically toward Rome, de-
spite rumors and reports to the contrary. Indeed, one might see in his por-
trait of the Germanic warlord Ariovistus (formerly an ally of Rome thanks
to Caesar) or the Gallic chieftain Indutiomarus (who quarrels unnecessarily
with Cingetorix, his own son-in-law and a friend of Caesar), parallels with
the negative behavior of Pompey, Caesar’s own former son-in-law and ally,
whose presence outside Rome with a military force seems more suspect to
Caesar than his own exploits far from home.
As in Caesar’s other memoir, the Bellum Civile or Commentaries on the
Civil War, the author takes on a third-person perspective throughout the
narrative and a very straightforward, matter-of-fact approach to the infor-
mation he presents. He seems to conceal nothing, yet there is much that
he does not openly express. He appeals to a Roman reader’s patriotism by
referring to the Roman army as nostri, that is, “our guys”; even the mod-
ern reader is drawn more deeply into the story by a feeling of camaraderie
with the Roman troops as the author describes in such detail their daily
routines, their feats of heroism, their fears and doubts, and their extraor-
dinary challenges. The work has resonated across so many generations of
91
military personnel precisely for the reason that it captures so much of the
typical military experience. Furthermore, by composing the commentary in
seven, seemingly distinct “reports from the field,” Caesar appears to have
no agenda for the work overall and presents no overarching theme, again
as if he had no personal goals or grand purposes in going to Gaul or in re-
porting about it.
All this, together with Caesar’s literary talent, makes the work easy and
exciting to follow, but also lulls the reader into believing that everything he
or she encounters in the text is truthful. Indeed, in a relatively few words,
Caesar has taken his own experiences in Gaul, melded them together with
the reports of others, including his own officers, spies, Gallic chieftains, and
prisoners of war, and synthesized this material to create a streamlined story
of near-constant action (the causes for which do not always gibe with the
threat-level he alleges) with Caesar as the indisputably deserving hero of his
country, upholding his duties and completing his missions, famous espe-
cially for the rapidity of his actions and the aptness of his decisions, devot-
edly backed up by a Roman army capable of virtually performing miracles
for its commander.
That is not to say that the Bellum Gallicum is a work of fiction. Caesar
could not have invented so many details for a series of campaigns in which
thousands of Roman soldiers survived and which they themselves described
in letters to loved ones and friends back home. Indeed, many of his de-
tails, even some that have appeared far-fetched to later readers, have been
verified as entirely factual by archaeological investigation, much of which
has been done by scholars in recent generations. Yet, the Gallic Wars is
certainly not objective history. There is a political or cultural message at-
tached to just about everything Caesar tells us, perhaps more significant to
him than any fact.
We should keep in mind that from the very start of Caesar’s provincial
assignment, his political opponents in Rome sought ways to strip him of
command and compel him to return home. In the Senate, these men ar-
gued, at times with great validity, not only that Caesar had obtained his
command by dubious, perhaps illegal, means but also that he was engaged
in unprovoked and unnecessary aggression against the Gallic tribes, far ex-
ceeding his provincial mandate. Caesar had to do everything he could in
his memoir to lay out his own case for his military actions, to disseminate a
contrary view to that presented by his adversaries. Thus, he portrays himself
as someone who sees the successful course of action even when the “univer-
sal opinion” opposes his decisions. He is also at pains to point out, repeat-
edly, that he understands all too well the evils of civil strife. Put together,
Caesar casts himself in the role of the wise decision-maker who knows how
to save foolish and headstrong people from an otherwise disastrous fate.
92
His writing style, his careful blend of message and fact, give the proper air
of credibility to his claim that all of his deeds in Gaul were fully justified,
in the interest of the Republic, and implies that his future actions will be
as well.
Since so little remains of other commentarii or memoirs from the Roman
Republic, it is intriguing to wonder if they paid as much attention to as wide
an array of topics, such as geography, climate, weather, local customs and
governance, and language, as does Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum. Also unfor-
tunately, most of what we know about the Gallic region and its neighbors
in that time period comes directly from Caesar’s account or from others
whose writings depend largely on his version of things; this means that
we must often trust him or doubt him without any hope of corroborative
evidence.
Like a clever legal advocate, which Caesar, of course, was in his younger
days, he delivers the most compelling case in his own favor by laying out in
the Bellum Gallicum all his achievements, tries to minimize his errors, and
deflects attention away from his purely personal ambitions. He also pres-
ents these achievements as those of his soldiers and, by extension, of Rome
itself, as if to ask his readers whether they really would want to see their vet-
erans lose the honor due them and the empire lose the rich territory of Gaul
simply to discredit Caesar. Furthermore, perhaps in the end he had come to
see himself truly as the image of calm he writes about, above typical human
flaws, in which case, his Bellum Gallicum reflects the unreal world within
Caesar’s own mind.
See also: Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE); Balbus; Bellum Civile (Caesar); Ci-
cero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Education; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gloria/
Glory; Helvetii; Honor; Memoirs; Oppius and Hirtius; Oratory; Propa-
ganda; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Press.
Moss, J. ed. 2006. Classical Literature and Its Times. Detroit: Thomson Gale.
Texas Press.
Yavetz, Z. 1983. Julius Caesar and His Public Image. London: Thames and Hudson.
93
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)

Though they could not have been farther apart in terms of ideology or per-
sonality, the political careers of M. Calpurnius Bibulus and C. Julius Caesar
proceeded in lock-step with one another. Bibulus shared public office with
Caesar three times, contributed to a relationship of rancor and frustration
between them, and, in the end, repeatedly tried to bring Caesar down in
the interests of saving the Republic.
Bibulus emerges in the historical record for the first time in 65 BCE, as
the colleague of Caesar in the political office known as the curule aedile-
ship (charged with maintaining the city of Rome, policing its marketplaces,
and related duties); Caesar, having recently returned from a quaestor-
ship (lieutenant-governorship) in Further Spain (roughly southern Spain
today), had spoils of war and financing (from his friend Crassus) to outdo
his colleague in the customary entertainments (beast hunts, gladiatorial
combats, plays, etc.) expected by the Roman populace from their aediles.
Even when Bibulus contributed and worked on such spectacles together,
Caesar received all the credit. Bibulus felt that, just as in the case of the
twin gods, Castor and Pollux, where Castor received most of the attention
and often eclipsed his brother, Caesar eclipsed Bibulus. Yet, three years
later, they served together again, as praetors.
Two years after that, in the race for the consulships of 59 BCE, three
candidates stood out: Bibulus, L. Lucceius, and Julius Caesar. Caesar had
joined forces with two of the most prominent men in Roman politics
at that time, Pompey and Crassus, to ensure his election. Lucceius ap-
proached both Caesar and Bibulus, trying to strike up an alliance with
one or the other to secure consulships for himself and whichever of them
would team up with him. In the end, it was Caesar who chose to do so;
why Bibulus did not remains unknown. Caesar employed his connections
and influence among the voters, while Lucceius employed his great wealth
to finance both campaigns and bribe the voters. Bibulus, on the other
hand, had the backing of Caesar’s most resolute opponents, the sena-
tors who called themselves Optimates; they were willing to stoop even to
Caesar’s level (i.e., to bribe the voters) to prevent him from gaining the
consulship with a colleague who would not resist him, as Lucceius would
have been.
The People of Rome, regardless of the money changing hands, saw in
Bibulus and Caesar two individual candidates, each from good families,
with strong supporters and other assets to recommend them both; they
did not see a “Popularis platform” versus an “Optimate platform.” Unlike
modern American voters, who would never imagine electing a Democratic
president and a Republican vice president (or vice versa), the Romans did
something similar to that, choosing Caesar and Bibulus as consuls together,
94
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
despite their strong political differences, and despite the fact that the con-
suls wielded equal powers, unlike their American counterparts.
The Optimates must have hoped that Caesar would have been defeated
for the consulship altogether, but they were also realistic in recognizing the
unlikelihood of such a defeat. So, they hit upon a way to weaken his posi-
tion just in case he won. The Senate had the authority to grant provincial
commands to the magistrates of Rome; depending on the particular con-
ditions in a province, a magistrate might proceed directly to the province
assigned upon the start of his term in office, or he would serve a year in
Rome and then go out to his province for a year or more. There were, thus,
variations in the lengths of provincial commands and not all magistrates
even had to serve. When it came to the consuls, the Senate had to follow
a special rule (legislated by the famous Popularis tribune C. Gracchus): if
it were to grant provincial governorships, it had to announce, before the
election of the consuls, the identification of which provinces would be up
for assignment. Gracchus had designed this law to curtail favoritism toward
or prejudice against certain consuls; the Senate could not assign provinces
based on who won election but instead had to establish the options regard-
less of who might win. In the case of the election of Caesar and Bibulus,
the Optimates employed this rule to serve their own purposes by pushing
the Senate to open the “forests and mountain paths” of Italy as provinces
for the upcoming consuls (assuming that at least one of them would be
Caesar). Even though this move sacrificed Bibulus’s prospects as well, he
likely agreed with the tactic of his Optimate comrades as a necessary means,
under the circumstances, of limiting Caesar’s career.
As consul, Caesar attempted to fool Bibulus into trusting him through
speeches before the Senate that sounded conciliatory and seemed to show
his appreciation for the danger to the state posed by two consuls in conflict
with one another. Yet, Bibulus soon found that he had to take on the role
of chief obstacle in the path of Caesar’s efforts, which were not really aimed
at concord. First of all, when Caesar brought a contentious proposal (ad-
dressing redistribution of agricultural land) directly to the voters assembled
in the Roman Forum, Bibulus announced before the People of Rome that
he would condone no changes to the laws without their prior approval by
the Senate. Next, he enlisted the help of several magistrates known as ple-
beian tribunes to delay proceedings on the proposal. Then, most famously,
he watched the sky for omens, that is, portents from the gods perceived in
the flight of birds, and then declared that these “auspices” were unfavor-
able, not only for Caesar’s motion but also for any kind of meeting or vote
for the rest of their term in office. Finally, accompanied by his father-in-law,
Cato the Younger, as well as L. Licinius Lucullus, both top Optimates, Bib-
ulus pushed his way up to the speaker’s platform in front of the Temple of
Castor and Pollux and began to denounce Caesar’s proposal.
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Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
Bibulus had utilized all the traditional, constitutional tools of obstruc-

tion. Under normal circumstances, all this would have shut Caesar down,
but he responded by bringing armed force into the Forum, using hired
thugs (and Pompey’s veterans) to push voters around and to drive away
opponents. They especially singled out Bibulus for humiliation as well as
intimidation; his lictors (the attendants who carried out his directives as
consul) were attacked and the fasces (the consul’s most important insig-
nia of office) carried by the lictors grabbed from their hands and busted,
while he himself was doused with a pot full of excrement. In the brawl
that ensued, Bibulus shouted out that, if anyone made a move to kill him,
Caesar would bear the full guilt. The violent supporters of Caesar satis-
fied themselves with simply chasing him out of the Forum. Caesar had
thereby prevented his colleague from employing another traditional ob-
stacle, his veto.
Indeed frightened, Bibulus may have fled from the Forum that day, but
returned the next for a meeting of the Senate in which he officially de-
nounced Caesar and called for a vote of censure against him. According to
the Imperial biographer Suetonius, no other senator supported Bibulus,
though this seems very unlikely, for other Optimates like him would have
jumped on the chance to attack Caesar. More probably, they could not ac-
cumulate the votes needed in the Senate to pass the decree demanded by
Bibulus, especially because of the massive popular energy behind Caesar at
that moment. Shutting himself up in his own home, Bibulus attempted a
sort of boycott, refusing to appear personally for any public business for the
remainder of his consulship.
That did not stop Bibulus, however, from continuing his efforts against
Caesar. Through messengers and in private meetings, he conveyed his sup-
port for other senators who stood in Caesar’s way, like Cato, who employed
filibustering to impede Caesar’s proposals. Bibulus also continued to issue
edicts, the official proclamations of a magistrate. Indeed, according to Ci-
cero, copies of Bibulus’s edicts and speeches were posted in public places
in the city of Rome for people to read (and to be read aloud to those who
were illiterate); Cicero’s friend, Atticus, received his own copies of them,
and likely many other members of the Roman elite did the same. The edicts
were rife with hostile words against Caesar, such as the one Suetonius de-
scribes in which Bibulus slandered his colleague as a passive homosexual
(a serious insult in Roman society) aiming at monarchy (an even more serious
charge). It may have also been in his consular edicts that Bibulus recorded
the allegations of Caesar’s involvement in the so-called Conspiracy of 65.
Pompey did not escape scathing criticism either, which deeply embar-
rassed him; Bibulus also warned him that he had laid himself open to plots
against his life (for which Bibulus had evidence, though only vague) by
siding with the likes of Caesar.
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Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
Bibulus also continued his attempts at obstruction by taking the auspices

and officially declaring them unfavorable; according to these, every one of
Caesar’s actions took place under a cloud of sacrilege and illegality. Cae-
sar tried to counter his colleague’s statements with those of his own. For
instance, when Bibulus announced, as a result of such auspices, that elec-
tions for his and Caesar’s successors in the consulship had to be postponed
until October 59 BCE, Caesar came out in a speech to the People of Rome
in argument against such a delay, charging Bibulus with acting contrary to
the People of Rome’s interests. His arguments did not win over too many
citizens because Bibulus had appealed successfully to the Roman sense of
piety and their tradition of mutual cooperation and consensus. Despite the
jokes people made about the government being run by “the consuls Julius
and Caesar,” the firm stance taken by Bibulus, perfectly in line with custom,
weakened popular perceptions of Caesar and of his associates.
Common citizens began to vent their outrage against Caesar and Pom-
pey in various ways; their reactions, their shouts of derision, their general
restlessness at theatrical and gladiatorial events held in honor of Apollo in
the summer of 59, for example, clearly revealed the level of discontent.
Caesar may have sought to quash this by implicating Bibulus in an assas-
sination plot against Pompey and himself (the accuser was a man named
Vettius, who also named other prominent Optimates in his charges and
insisted that Bibulus’s assistant had given him the actual dagger with which
to carry out the murder), but few considered this credible.
Caesar still bypassed his colleague over and over again, usually through
use of money, force, and intimidation, proving, in the eyes of many, his
contempt for the Republic; even in the election of successors, Caesar got
the upper hand, since Bibulus’s postponement just gave Caesar more time
to secure the consulships for his own cronies. He also surpassed Bibulus
by specially arranging for the command of the provinces of Cisalpine and
Transalpine Gaul (respectively, northernmost Italy and southern France),
as well as Illyricum (the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea from Slovenia to
Albania), which kept Caesar safely away from Rome, safely away from pros-
ecution by Bibulus and others. From the point of view of Rome’s aristo-
crats, Bibulus’s objections had laid Caesar’s laws open to future repeal on a
number of valid, legal grounds.
Bibulus, for his part, remained in Rome and did not proceed to a pro-
vincial post after his consulship expired at the end of 59 BCE. In fact, Cae-
sar’s henchman, the plebeian tribune Clodius, even used his veto power to
prevent Bibulus from delivering the customary closing speech at the end of
his term. Little is recorded about his specific activities in the years that fol-
lowed, except for his continued hostile attitude toward the far-away Cae-
sar and his closer-by associates. Despite the ill feeling that he had had for
Pompey in the past, recalling how the latter’s followers had helped wreck
97
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
Bibulus’s consulship in favor of Caesar, he nonetheless, like many others

whom Pompey had wronged, came to reconcile himself with Pompey, re-
garding him as the only man who could be persuaded to stand against Cae-
sar and to do so with success. That is why, when turbulent conditions in
Rome demanded exceptionally strong leadership to restore order, Bibulus,
with Optimate backing, proposed in 52 BCE that Pompey be made sole con-
sul with extraordinary powers.
Under a law promulgated by Pompey in that year, provincial governors
were no longer to be magistrates in, or just finished with, their term of
office, but rather magistrates who had been out of office for at least five
years; the Senate would nominate such officials for particular governor-
ships and few excuses would be accepted for refusing to serve. Bibulus
thus received appointment as proconsul (governor) of the Roman prov-
ince of Syria in November 51 BCE. He succeeded C. Cassius Longinus (the
future assassin of Caesar) and inherited from him continued conflict with
the Parthians, who then controlled much of the Middle East and sought
to expand into Roman territories. In fact, war with the Parthians raged
in Syria over the next two years; Bibulus found himself and his forces be-
sieged in Antioch; he lost some of his best men in the mountains north of
modern Alexandretta in the fall of 51 BCE; and he lost his two eldest sons
in Egypt, having perhaps dispatched them to gather military or financial
assistance against the Parthians, but who, instead, were seized and mur-
dered by the Egyptian army at Alexandria. He received reinforcements
from Caesar and Pompey (another point of controversy between the lat-
ter two at that time) and Cicero, who governed nearby Cilicia (southern
Turkey), provided him with invaluable military assistance in the summer
of 50 BCE; Bibulus had a negative attitude toward Cicero, though, despite
the latter’s friendly overtures toward him, and their experiences in the
East heightened Bibulus’s jealousy of Cicero and Cicero’s disillusionment
with Bibulus.
As governor, Bibulus treated the provincials with fairness, putting in
place protections against money-grubbing Roman businessmen and tax
collectors. He also refused to follow Caesar’s law regarding the publication
of the governor’s financial accounts since, as noted above, he considered
all Caesar’s laws invalid. These actions enhanced Bibulus’s reputation as an
Optimate hero. On his return to Rome, the Senate awarded him a triumph,
largely thanks to the efforts of the Optimates, especially his father-in-law,
Cato, though Cicero makes it quite clear in his writings that he did not de-
serve one.
When the Civil War against Caesar commenced in 49 BCE, Bibulus joined
Pompey. Within a year, the latter had amassed considerable armed forces
with which to confront Caesar, including a sizable fleet of 600 warships
that he placed under the supreme command of Bibulus, who oversaw and
98
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
organized the operations against Caesar in the Adriatic Sea. Bibulus, thus,
had the confidence and trust of Pompey and many others of their cause.
Under his personal authority, 110 vessels anchored on the Greek island
of Corcyra. Unfortunately, in early 48 BCE, Caesar slipped past Bibulus’s
fleet, making the hazardous (due to weather) crossing from Italy to Greece
with only a handful of ships himself, but with incredible swiftness; they had
landed on the mainland of western Greece even before a report could reach
Bibulus. He had the last laugh, though, because he intercepted Caesar’s
vessels on their return to Italy to pick up more troops; he destroyed close
to thirty of Caesar’s vessels by fire, even killing their crews in this way, a
serious offence against fellow Roman citizens and a clear illustration of his
hatred for Caesar and those who followed him. He also hoped that such
a display would send a message to Caesar’s troops still in Italy to discour-
age them from making the crossing. Bibulus next turned to securing about
sixty miles of the coastline of Greece north of his position on Corcyra with
carefully placed squadrons of ships at key locations; he himself spent night
and day on board his own flagship, even in terrible weather conditions,
waiting for his chance to spot and capture Caesar’s force. Caesar managed
to get word to his reinforcements in Italy, warning them not to embark for
Greece. When the captain and crew of one vessel disregarded this instruc-
tion, they paid the price for doing so, since Bibulus trapped their ship and
executed everyone on board.
Basically blockaded by Bibulus’s fleet, Caesar decided on the countermea-
sure of stationing his legionaries along the coast with orders to deny their
opponents the chance to land for collecting water, firewood, and other sup-
plies. Ancient warships did not possess the large cargo holds that modern
ones do; even if they had enough room on board to store food for a journey,
they rarely had enough space also for firewood for cooking and water for
drinking (and the weight of the latter might also cause problems in balanc-
ing the ship); so crews had to come ashore frequently for several basic neces-
sities. Bibulus compensated for Caesar’s action by calling in merchant vessels
from Corcyra to transport those necessities to his fleet. In other words, the
standoff between the two sides could continue indefinitely.
Eventually, Bibulus (and one of his associates, Scribonius Libo) opened
up talks with Acilius and Staius, Caesar’s commanders at the strategic port
town of Oricum. They did this at sea, from the safety of their ships, and
requested a truce and the opportunity to speak personally with Caesar on
matters of great importance. Caesar, and his two officers, believed that this
turn of events had been prompted by the efforts of Vibullius, a special mes-
senger whom Caesar had sent to Pompey with proposals of peace. Caesar
dropped everything and came to Oricum for the meeting, but only Libo
showed up, with excuses from Bibulus; the latter sent word that his per-
sonal resentment toward Caesar was too strong for him to be involved
99
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
productively in peace negotiations face-to-face, quite an insight into the

honesty of Bibulus’s character even under such circumstances.
Caesar, despite his own professed desire for an end to the conflict, re-
sponded to Libo’s overtures by insisting that as long as Bibulus maintained
the blockade against his forces, those forces would continue to obstruct
Bibulus’s fleet from making landings on the coast. Libo (and Bibulus), on
their side, were willing to send word to Pompey of Caesar’s terms for peace
but would not take the responsibility of conducting the latter’s envoys to
Pompey; what they insisted upon was a continued truce that would allow
them to land their ships for supplies and prevent any harm from coming to
their men. Caesar left the conference quite dissatisfied.
Meanwhile, Bibulus had fallen ill onboard his flagship; the bad winter
weather and exhaustion from overwork finally caught up with him. There
was no physician available within his fleet to tend him properly; on top of
that, he refused to go ashore to one of the Greek cities where he would
have been able to get medical care. Instead, he kept himself to the task,
which he viewed as all-important, of keeping Caesar bottled up and de-
prived of reinforcements. The result was that Bibulus’s sickness worsened
and, in fact, soon brought about his death. When Antony, Caesar’s chief
lieutenant in Italy, received this news, he no longer feared the enemy fleet
(since it had been Bibulus he had respected, not Libo) and set off with the
reinforcements for Caesar.
A century and a half later, Suetonius claimed to have consulted the
“edicts of Bibulus,” perhaps simply those which he found in the imperial
archives or perhaps a published collection of the consul’s proclamations
(since that had become a popular thing to put together in the Late Repub-
lic). So, even after all the dust had settled, Bibulus’s written record contin-
ued to immortalize the conflict between himself and Caesar.
See also: Adriatic Sea; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cassius
(ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Crassus
(ca. 112–53 BCE); Elections; Forum Romanum; Lictors/Fasces; Lucullus
(118–57 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Navy/Ships; Optimates;
Parthia; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Provinces; Religion,
Roman; Senate; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE); Temple of Castor and Pollux
Further Reading
Adcock, F. E. 1959. Roman Political Ideas and Practice. Ann Arbor: University of
Michigan Press.
Ltd.
100
Bona Dea

Lintott, A. W. 1993. Imperium Romanum: Politics and Administration. London
and New York: Routledge.
Lintott, A. W. 1968. Violence in Republican Rome. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
lishing.
Publishing.
Shackleton Bailey, D. R. 1986. Cicero: Selected Letters. New York: Penguin Pub-
lishing.
University Press.
Wiseman, T. P. 1985. Roman Political Life 90 B.C.–A.D. 69. Exeter: Exeter University
Press.
Bona Dea
In the year 62 BCE, a highly publicized scandal nearly derailed the career
of one of Rome’s most popular politicians, created a never-ending rift be-
tween that politician and Rome’s most famous orator, called into question
the moral uprightness of a high-born lady, whose husband soon divorced
her, and tarnished the reputation of one of Rome’s most exclusive religious
ceremonies. The politician was P. Claudius Pulcher, known usually as Clo-
dius, the orator, Cicero, the lady, Pompeia, her husband, Julius Caesar,
and the ceremony, in honor of the deity identified by the title Bona Dea
or “Good Goddess.”
According to the Imperial biographer Plutarch, writing nearly two cen-
turies after Caesar’s time, Bona Dea corresponded with a number of other
wife/mother goddesses worshipped in the Mediterranean world. A vari-
ety of sacred rites were held in her honor, especially across central Italy. In
Rome, the ceremonies were conducted every December by women from
Rome’s prominent families for the “health and welfare of the Roman Peo-
ple”; they fell under the special purview of the wife of a consul or a praetor,
Rome’s high magistrates. In 62 BCE, one of the praetors of Rome was Cae-
sar, and he and his wife, Pompeia, were selected, probably by lot, to host
the ceremony for Bona Dea; this honor and duty would have carried even
101
Bona Dea
greater significance for Caesar and his wife considering that he also held the
post of Pontifex Maximus, chairman of the pontifices, the most prestigious
priests of the Roman state religion.
Pompeia particularly had the task of arranging the ceremony in the cou-
ple’s official residence, the Domus Publica, located in the Roman Forum.
She invited the proper women to attend, including her mother-in-law, Au-
relia, her sister-in-law, Julia, and the special priestesses of Rome known as
the Vestal Virgins. Strict custom insisted that only women could participate
in the secret, nighttime rituals of the goddess, which apparently involved
consumption of wine, dancing, music, and play, creating an atmosphere
perhaps akin to the modern-day slumber party. No male, not even male ani-
mals, could be present anywhere in the building where the rites took place.
Yet, a man breached this taboo, dressed in women’s clothing, in fact, dis-
guised in the outfit of a female flute player. The man was P. Clodius, at that
time a young Roman aristocrat (Plutarch tells us that he did not even have a
beard yet) with a great deal of wealth, personality, and charm, but also a du-
bious reputation. Rumor later spread to the effect that he had arranged his
secret entry with the maid of the house to carry on an affair with the host-
ess, Caesar’s wife, who allegedly was looking for a way to sleep with Clo-
dius without being discovered by her mother-in-law. As Clodius wandered
about the house waiting for Pompeia, another servant found him out; he
then pretended to be a girlfriend of Pompeia’s maid, but the servant soon
recognized him as a man.
When the servant reported this to the others, Aurelia immediately cov-
ered the sacred objects that were part of the rites; partial desecration had
occurred, and she could not allow any more by risking that Clodius might
see things he should not. His attempt to hide from the women as they
searched the house for him failed, since they discovered him hiding in the
maid’s room. They kicked him out and went home themselves to inform
their husbands and other male relatives about what had taken place.
The whole thing turned into a sort of sex/sacrilege scandal, as one of the
plebeian tribunes brought formal charges against Clodius, which led to a
special court of inquiry into the business in May 61 BCE. Clodius attempted
to establish an alibi for his actions, even making the claim that he had been
far away from the city at the time the alleged incident had occurred. How-
ever, the testimony of his then personal friend, the orator Cicero, that, in
fact, Clodius had been in town to consult with him, damningly demon-
strated the falsity of Clodius’s statements.
Several Optimate senators (hard-line traditionalists) then came out of
the woodwork to attack Clodius on all sorts of charges, including not
only perjury, adultery, and sacrilege but also fraud, bribery, and incest;
basically, they assailed his character from all sides. Cato, chief spokesman
of the Optimates, especially pushed for Clodius’s condemnation, which
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Britain
would have destroyed the latter’s career before it really had the chance to
get off the ground. He escaped punishment, however, partly because of
the testimony of other witnesses, like Caesar himself, who asserted that
he knew of no wrongdoing on Clodius’s part, partly because of the enor-
mous and vociferous popular support for Clodius, which terrified the
judges, and partly because one of his patrons, M. Licinius Crassus, the
wealthiest man in Rome, apparently paid off a majority of those judges
to acquit him.
For the rest of his life, Clodius turned all his energies to destroying Ci-
cero and causing trouble for Cato and his Optimates for their role in “im-
plicating” him in the Bona Dea scandal, thereby making himself a huge
threat to the stability of the Republic. This placed Clodius at the disposal
of Crassus and even Caesar, who, having divorced Pompeia simply on the
suspicion of adultery, developed a closer political relationship with Clodius
that further catapulted them both into prominence with the commoners
of Rome.
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius
(ca. 93–52 BCE); Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Forum Romanum;
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Optimates; Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Pon-
tifex Maximus; Religion, Roman; Vestal Virgins
Further Reading
Beard, M., and J. North. 1990. Pagan Priests: Religion and Power in the Ancient
World. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Brouwer, H. 1989. Bona Dea: The Sources and Description of the Cult. Leiden, The
Netherlands: Brill Publishing.
lishing.
Turcan, R. 1996. The Cults of the Roman Empire. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Pub-
lishing.
Bribery. See Ambitus/Bribery

Britain
In the middle of the first century BCE, Julius Caesar introduced the Roman
presence, by way of invasion, into the island that Romans (following Greek
custom) called Britannia, not so much to annex that territory as to gain
allies from there for his Gallic Wars and to make a show of Roman might
to deter anyone in Britain from aiding his enemies in Gaul. Caesar opened
103
Britain
Caesar’s First Invasion of Britain: Caesar’s boat is pulled to the shore while his soldiers
fight the resisting indigenous warriors. Lithograph by W. Linnell after E. Armitage
(1843). (Wellcome Library, London)
the door for direct Roman influence in Britain, which grew until the island
became part of the Roman Empire.
The Romans of the Republic had long known of Britain (and of neigh-
boring Ireland) from the accounts recorded by Greek explorers of the
fourth and third centuries BCE (e.g., Pytheas of Massilia, who wrote that
he had navigated not only to Britain from southern France but also around
the island); this should not be surprising, since it is very likely that trade
between the island and the Mediterranean world, especially for items such
as tin, which the ancients needed to manufacture bronze, went back many
centuries earlier.
Less nomadic than their cousins on the continent, the Celtic populations
of Britain still shared traits fairly common across the various Celtic tribes,
as identified by archaeologists: they were largely illiterate until the coming
of Roman influence; they lived grouped into tribes of extended families,
the families themselves living in roundhouses of stone, timber, thatch, and
wicker, depending on the location and resources, and those roundhouses
enclosed together by some sort of palisade; they used iron tools to clear
areas of dense woodland and plowed tracts of farmland to support their
families and villages; animal husbandry and slave-selling were also signifi-
cant elements of their economy, as was extensive trade with Mediterranean
populations.
104
Britain
The tribes prospered enough to support an upper crust of chiefs and

warriors, a warrior-aristocracy in other words, held together by oaths of
allegiance, vassalage, and the practice of fostering; the warriors in Britain,
like their continental counterparts, wore lots of jewelry (especially torcs),
howled, and underwent strange spasms during battle, fighting on foot and
on horseback, carrying large oval shields and long swords, but they also
painted their naked bodies with natural blue dye before an attack, never
closed ranks, and relied heavily on war chariots, whose “crews” consisted
of acrobatic drivers, serving as rescue troops and spear-throwers who could
also fight on foot with the sword. Caesar praised their boldness and nimble
movement. Tension and aggression among the tribes kept the warrior caste
useful; chiefs and warriors lorded it over the vast majority of their society,
the free farmers, craftsmen, landless serfs, poets, and priests. According
to Caesar, a special group of priests known as Druids emerged in Britain
and exported their traditions to Gaul; from there, young men would travel
across the English Channel for further instruction by the Druids in Britain.
Besides the cultural connections between the Celts of Britain and Gaul,
Caesar also discovered strong military, political, and economic links. For
example, not long before Caesar’s arrival in the region, the leader of the
northeastern Gallic tribe called the Suessiones had ruled not only his own
territory but also parts of Britain across the English Channel. Caesar’s op-
ponents among the Suessiones’s neighbors, the Bellovaci tribe, had fled
across to Britain for refuge, while the Veneti tribe of northwestern Gaul
asked for assistance from Britain for their naval campaign against Caesar.
Indeed, Caesar came to learn that many Britoni had secretly come to the
aid of his Gallic enemies; particularly strong ties existed between the Belgae
of northeastern Gaul and the populations of southeastern Britain, which
had been partly colonized by such Gauls.
All these facts determined Caesar to cross the Channel himself. He sent
on ahead a small exploratory force to collect as much intelligence as it could
about the approaches to southern Britain, especially because his Gallic con-
tacts, prisoners, and even merchants who traveled the sea there, surprisingly
seemed to know quite little. Envoys from several tribes of Britoni visited
Caesar along the Gallic coast, while he was preparing his fleet, to establish
good relations with him before his arrival in their land. Near the end of the
summer of 55 BCE, Caesar made the crossing with a rather small contingent
of two legions, only to discover that forces of resistance had gathered along
the opposite shore. Caesar stationed his warships in a position to fire their
artillery (slingshots, arrows, catapult bolts, etc.) at the Britoni, thus provid-
ing cover for his infantry to make their difficult landing. Romans and Brit-
oni fought long and hard over the beachhead until the latter were finally
driven off. Afterward, envoys from various tribes came to Caesar promising
peace and delivering hostages as a guarantee.
105
Britain
They changed their minds soon, however, when fresh trouble struck the
Romans in the form of a violent storm that drove their cavalry transports
off course and virtually destroyed the rest of their fleet on shore. Caesar
responded by ordering the repair of as many ships as possible through can-
nibalizing the worst wrecks, gathering in as much food from the nearby
fields as possible, and constructing a solid camp. The Britoni were not idle,
however; they ambushed one of the Roman foraging parties, compelling
Caesar to rescue it with reinforcements. Confronted by the formidable na-
tive chariot troops, he could just barely extricate himself and his men from
the danger.
The local Britoni sent word around to other tribes heralding this as the
moment to destroy the Romans. Caesar accepted the challenge of open bat-
tle in front of his camp, which gave the advantage to his men; the enemy,
badly defeated, fled and their lands were ravaged by the Romans. Once
again, peace envoys from the natives arrived and Caesar demanded hos-
tages. Afterward, the Romans soon returned to Gaul.
In 54 BCE, with a larger fleet of hundreds of ships and a force of close to
30,000 men, Caesar landed on the island again. This time, no one stood to
receive or resist them, but instead the local warriors had pulled back further
inland. The Romans secured their moorings and their camp, and Caesar,
leaving behind a strong garrison there, then pursued the Britoni with the
remainder of his troops. The native warriors used the rivers and forests they
knew so well, as well as a wooden stockade, as barriers against the bloody
Roman advance, but Caesar’s relentless Seventh Legion drove them out of
their protective places. The next day, Caesar divided his force into three to
better spread through the unknown terrain and swarm over the Britoni.
When news from his garrison on shore reached him, however, telling of
another massive storm that had wrecked much of his fleet, Caesar ordered
a halt to the Roman advance and returned to camp. He instructed his en-
gineers not only to make repairs to the ships but also to bring them all on-
shore into a much enlarged fortress.
Rejoining his troops deep in the woods, Caesar learned that the resis-
tant Britoni had received reinforcements from other parts of the island, at
least from as far away as the tribe of Cassivellaunus, whose territory strad-
dled the Thames River about sixty miles to the north; the warriors had all
agreed that Cassivellaunus should lead them in their showdown with the
Romans. A series of bloody skirmishes followed, with the Britoni teaching
the Romans the advantages of guerrilla warfare; only once did the native
warriors attempt to fight in the open, during an ambush of Roman cavalry,
and this turned out to be too costly for them. Caesar’s march brought his
force to the Thames, which was guarded and lightly fortified by Cassivel-
launus’s men. The Roman charge across the river dislodged most of these,
who turned in a mass flight.
106
Brundisium
Cassivellaunus retained a small force of chariots to continue his work of

resistance, especially harassing the Roman cavalry when they moved too far
from the legions; he also evacuated communities of Britoni and removed
their cattle and food stores when possible, away from the Roman line of
march. Cassivellaunus’s operations went fairly successfully, a constant irri-
tant to Caesar, until the defection of the Trinovantes (cousins of the Gallic
Belgae) to the Roman side; Mandubracius, the son of their former chief and
a deadly enemy of Cassivellaunus, encouraged the surrender of his people to
Caesar. When they complied, five other tribes followed suit. They also deliv-
ered valuable intelligence to Caesar on the position of Cassivellaunus’s head-
quarters, which the Romans rapidly stormed and captured. After one more
attempt on Caesar’s camp by the sea, which failed, Cassivellaunus surren-
dered, agreeing to deliver hostages and to pay tribute to Rome every year.
The Britain Caesar experienced had already entered the widening cultural
orbit of his seemingly far-off Mediterranean world. Among the chiefs of the
Britoni, some possessed copper and gold coins based on Macedonian and
Roman types, and Greek wine, and dressed in Greco-Roman fashions of
the day; some tribes in Britain, like the Trinovantes of Essex, had “modern-
ized,” that is, for that time, adopted Greek and Roman ways. Consequently,
such Britoni found it easy to ally with Caesar and thereby maintain their
autonomy with regard to the Roman Empire. Others, like Cassivellaunus’s
Catuvellauni, held to traditional Celtic customs and resisted Roman intru-
sion. So, it was possible for Caesar to divide the Britoni and keep the Britoni
out of Gaul, but not to fully subjugate them, as his peace with the Catuvel-
launi and their subsequent expansion as the most powerful tribe in southern
Britain attest. Still, Caesar’s arrival forever changed the history of Britain.
See also: Army; Belgae; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Gaul/Gallia Comata;
Navy/Ships
Further Reading
Frere, S. S. 1987. Britannia. London: Routledge, Inc.
Millett, M. J. 1990. The Romanization of Britain. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.
Snyder, C. 2003. The Britons. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing.
Brundisium
Caesar would have known Brundisium well, having sailed from there to
Greece on several occasions in his lifetime. Brundisium, the modern city
of Brindisi on the southeastern coast of Italy, served in ancient times as
107
Brundisium
the principal port of embarkation between Italy and Greece for ships sail-
ing across the Adriatic Sea. It had been founded probably by the Mes-
sapians, an Illyrian population that had migrated across the sea from the
Balkan Peninsula sometime in the first half of the first millennium BCE.
Eventually, the city came under Greek influence and protection from na-
tive Italian tribes encroaching on the coast, and later under that of the
Romans, who were attempting to prevent Illyrian piracy in the Adriatic
Sea. The town was garrisoned and fortified by the Romans during the
First Punic War (third century BCE) and became the end point for their
military road, the Via Appia or Appian Way, which stretched all the way
from Rome itself.
In early March 49 BCE, Caesar arrived at Brundisium, to which Pompey
had retreated, for refuge and for the gathering in of his forces from across
Italy; Caesar had already taken Rome and defeated Pompey’s associate
L. Domitius Ahenobarbus at Corfinium. As noted in a letter of Cicero’s
and in his own account of the Civil War, Caesar offered to negotiate in
person with Pompey. He was unsure whether Pompey intended to hold on
to Brundisium and use it as his base of operations against Caesar, in which
Perspective of the Roman columns in Brindisi, Italy. Only one column stands intact,
topped by a capital engraved with the images of several Roman gods, especially
Neptune, god of the sea. The ruins mark the spot where the ancient Appian Way
met the Adriatic Sea. (Milla74/Dreamstime.com)
108
Brundisium
case Pompey would have had access to forces from Greece and Italy, or
whether he intended to escape from there, as numbers of his subordinate
commanders and troops had already done, to regroup and make their stand
in Greece or even farther east. Caesar would not have known what Cicero
knew, according to his letters from that time, which was that Pompey was
always prepared to evacuate. Caesar, instead, apparently fearing that Pom-
pey would, in fact, hold on to the harbor town and make use of it as noted
earlier, attempted to blockade and thus trap his opponent there. Caesar’s
military engineers constructed artificial pontoon barriers at the mouth of
the port and the general stationed forces upon them, protected by wick-
erwork and wooden defenses; Pompey responded by sending large, refit-
ted cargo ships, armed with catapults and other anti-siege devices, to break
through the barriers and their defenses. For nine days attacks and counter-
attacks took place, while Caesar continued to attempt negotiations through
intermediaries. Eventually, he learned that Pompey would not negotiate
without the presence of the two consuls, who had already gone to Greece
and, in fact, had sent the troop ships back to Brundisium to pick up Pom-
pey and his men.
Pompey did everything he could to prevent Caesar from hindering his
escape from Italy; his troops sealed up the gates of Brundisium, blocked
the streets with walls, and dug trenches in the roads and open spaces of
the city into which were placed sharpened wooden stakes, cleverly covered
from view. A few soldiers remained on guard along the parapets of the city
to convey the image of continued defense against Caesar, while the rest of
Pompey’s soldiers got away aboard ship, he himself under cover of dark-
ness. Caesar would not even have known what was happening if it were not
for some of the townspeople of Brundisium, who shouted to Caesar and
his men from the rooftops of the city. Using scaling ladders, Caesar’s force
entered the town and tried to get down to the port as fast as they could,
led by local guides to circumvent Pompey’s defense works. All this made no
difference, however, since Pompey had left behind no vessels large enough
to carry troops across the Adriatic in pursuit of his. At Brundisium, Caesar
had lost his chance to end the war quickly and decisively.
Caesar now made use of Brundisium as the gathering place and jumping-
off point for his forces as they pursued Pompey into Greece. Once Cae-
sar himself was operating in western Greece, one of Pompey’s associates,
L. Scribonius Libo, attempted with his fifty warships to bottle up any rein-
forcements Caesar might request from Italy by harassing the latter’s troops
at Brundisium. Caesar’s lieutenant, Marc Antony, however, prevented Li-
bo’s men from collecting fresh water and even lured several of his vessels
into ambush. This discouraged Libo, who evacuated the area; a few months
later, another of Pompey’s supporters, Decimus Laelius, duplicated such
efforts with equal failure. Brundisium remained in Caesar’s hands.
109
See also: Adriatic Sea; Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE); Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Illyri-
cum; Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Potter, T. W. 1987. Exploring the Roman World: Roman Italy. London: British
Museum Publications.
Salmon, E. T. 1986. The Making of Roman Italy. London: Thames and Hudson.
lishing.
Ward-Perkins, J. B. 1974. Cities of Ancient Greece and Italy. London: Sidgwick and
Jackson.

Personally close to Julius Caesar though fundamentally opposed to him po-
litically, M. Junius Brutus is best remembered as the man who led the plot
to assassinate Caesar. In fact, the plot was not even his creation. Neverthe-
less, by it, he became one of the most famous Romans of all time.
Ancient sources provide minimal information on Brutus before the age
of twenty-eight. When he was only eight years old, he lost his father, also
named M. Junius Brutus; the latter had participated in the rebellion against
the state led by Lepidus the Elder, in fact serving as one of his chief lieu-
tenants. On being granted safe conduct by Pompey the Great, one of the
two commanders sent out by the Senate to deal with this threat, the elder
Brutus surrendered, but soon found himself arrested and executed on the
orders of Pompey. Interestingly, when the elder Brutus’s wife, Servilia, later
remarried and had three daughters by her second husband (D. Junius Si-
lanus), she married off one of them to Lepidus’s son (the future associate
of Caesar, Antony, and Octavian), thus maintaining a link between their
families.
After his father’s death, young Brutus came under the protection and
the watchful eyes of his mother’s brother, Q. Servilius Caepio, and her half-
brother, M. Porcius Cato. Servilius eventually adopted Brutus as his own
son—among Romans adoption was a secure method of guardianship for
those orphaned by their fathers—while Cato took the boy under his wing,
introducing him to the world of Roman politics and especially to the world
of Greek philosophy; in fact, Brutus became famous in the Late Republic
for his wide knowledge and understanding of philosophy, especially the
teachings of the original Platonic Academy, and even more so for espous-
ing that philosophy must be not just studied but lived out in one’s private
110
Denarius of Marcus Junius Brutus depicting his ancestor Lucius Junius Brutus,
traditionally one of the first consuls of Rome. Minted in 54 BCE, the reverse side of
this silver coin shows Lucius between his lictors, the bodyguards of the consuls, who
carry the fasces, symbols of consular authority. Bologna, Museo Civico Archeologico
(Archaeological Museum). (De Agostini/Getty Images)
and public life. Even those who had reason to dislike or distrust Brutus re-
garded him as an unusually earnest man in his speech and his behavior, very
serious and very determined.
Behind all his early life experiences and development stood Brutus’s
mother, Servilia, a woman of intense character, strong personality, and in-
telligence, the primary influence on her son, his confidante and associate in
political matters right up to her death. She opened up another prominent
connection for Brutus through her romantic relationship with Julius Caesar,
a love affair begun either before or during her second marriage to Silanus.
111
Marble bust of Marcus Junius

Brutus by Michelangelo,
ca. 1540. Museo Nazionale
del Bargello, Florence, Italy.
(Library of Congress)
Caesar held tremendous affection for Brutus, which no doubt spawned the
rumors about Brutus being his illegitimate son. Evidence strongly suggests
the falsity of such rumors, and certainly a man like Caesar, who frequently
disregarded Roman taboos and desperately wanted a male heir to carry on
his legacy, would have claimed the boy outright if the latter had been his.
Brutus’s career in politics began in his late twenties, when he accom-
panied his uncle Cato to the island of Cyprus, a political football in the
dynastic squabbles of the Ptolemies, the royal family from Egypt. Cato’s
diplomatic mission included ousting King Ptolemy of Cyprus (brother of
the King of Egypt, Ptolemy Auletes) and addressing other problems on the
island; the Republic evidently had the right to do this because Ptolemy’s
predecessor, his cousin Ptolemy XI, had apparently bequeathed his territo-
ries to Rome two decades previously. After the suicide of Ptolemy, Cato put
Brutus in charge of collecting the royal treasures from Cyprus, converting
them into cash, and transporting that to Rome.
In the midst of these proceedings, and again a few years later when he
served in the region in an official capacity (as financial magistrate, quaestor,
112
to the governor of the nearby province of Cilicia), Brutus responded to

local requests for substantial loans by setting himself up as the moneylender
(through intermediaries, of course); in the case of Salamis, the capital city
of Cyprus, he even went so far as extorting from the population an enor-
mous amount of interest, four times the normal rate. How he squared this
misbehavior (typically Roman, only more so) toward provincials with his
vaunted philosophical principles we do not know; however, we do know
that he attempted to keep it a secret for a number of years afterward and
even gained the collusion of the Senate as a whole and prominent members
of it, like the orator Cicero.
For many years of his life, Brutus harbored a deep resentment toward
Pompey for murdering (as he saw it) his father, refusing to even exchange
greetings with the man. The two did develop close family connections over
time, as both Brutus’s and Pompey’s eldest sons married daughters of Ap.
Claudius Pulcher, but Brutus continued to resist Pompey’s growing posi-
tion in the state, especially when political chaos opened the possibility of
the latter assuming a dictatorship in 52 BCE. In this, Brutus was perfectly
aligned with his uncle Cato, whose lead he usually followed in the politi-
cal realm.
More than that, Brutus publicly prided himself on his descent from en-
emies of tyrants: his ancestor Brutus had led the Romans in ousting the des-
potic Tarquin kings five centuries earlier and, not many decades after that,
on his mother’s side of the family, his ancestor Ahala had even stabbed to
death the aspiring tyrant, Spurius Maelius, right in the heart of the city. All
this meant that resisting one-man rule, whether that of a personal enemy,
such as Pompey, or that of a personal friend, such as Julius Caesar, was to
Brutus a familial legacy, a thing most highly prized in Roman society and
not to be disregarded. So, when Caesar appeared to have become more of
a threat to the Republic than Pompey was, Brutus felt increasing pressure,
from within himself and from fellow Romans, not only to join Pompey’s
side in the Civil War against Caesar but also to take Caesar down once the
latter had achieved supreme power in the state.
Brutus began by placing himself at the disposal of P. Sestius, governor
of Cilicia and adherent of Pompey’s at the start of the war. Within a year’s
time, the theater of operations came to focus on Greece, and when Cae-
sar drew Pompey’s forces into Thessaly (northeastern Greece) for a major
showdown, Brutus went there to participate alongside Pompey and many
of his senatorial comrades; the Imperial biographer Plutarch makes much
of Pompey’s joy at having Brutus by his side. In the ensuing engagement,
the Battle of Pharsalus in the summer of 48 BCE, Caesar scored a victory
over his opponents. Among the survivors was Brutus, who escaped into the
nearby swamps and made it safely to the city of Larissa some miles to the
north. From there, he wrote to Caesar, who had ordered his troops not to
113
harm Brutus if captured; either the latter had learned this somehow or sus-
pected as much, since he was otherwise taking a chance by openly asking
for pardon from Caesar. The latter enthusiastically granted it and welcomed
Brutus to his own camp.
The Civil War was not over by any means and, in fact, his uncle Cato
was still out there with armed forces challenging Caesar’s supremacy for al-
most another two years after Pharsalus; yet, Brutus did not “defend the Re-
public” but instead remained loyal to Caesar, who entrusted him with the
governorship of Cisalpine Gaul (northernmost Italy) and, three years after
that, with the praetorship of Rome. In fact, Brutus became one of Caesar’s
closest associates.
Perhaps Servilia had something to do with how well the two men got on
in those days, though we really do not know what sort of relationship she
had with Caesar at that time. She was a widow, but he was married to Cal-
purnia; marriage had never stopped Caesar from having affairs before, but
he and Servilia had probably not been intimately involved for many years
by that point. His affection for her mattered in his treatment of Brutus; his
affection for Brutus also played a part.
More importantly, informers told Caesar that Brutus was plotting
against him; he had to keep Brutus close, since the latter had taken up
arms against him before, could draw upon his many connections through-
out the Roman aristocracy, and had a reputation for “republicanism” that
could encourage trouble among those still opposed to Caesar’s power.
Brutus was growing more and more concerned over Caesar’s dictator-
ship and feared for the survival of the Republic; as much as this came from
within himself, it was also encouraged considerably by anonymous mes-
sages left for him on his praetor’s bench, calling upon him to “wake up”
and to be “true” to his ancestors, the famous opponents of tyranny. Caesar
must have received intelligence reports about some of this at least, yet he
took no precautions against Brutus, apparently expecting that if the lat-
ter sought the overthrow of the dictatorship, his overly honest and serious
personality would drive him to open action, which Caesar could then deal
with appropriately.
Apparently, Caesar had not considered the possibility that someone else
might instigate Brutus to covert action. That someone else turned out to
be C. Cassius Longinus, one of Brutus’s brothers-in-law. Even though the
two men had not gotten along in the past, and Caesar had himself pitted
them against each other in political rivalry, mutual friends of theirs worked
to bring about a reconciliation. In addition, Cassius discovered that Brutus
was prepared to oppose a motion in the Senate, should it come forward, to
declare Caesar king. Cassius dissuaded Brutus from such an overt confron-
tation and convinced him, instead, to throw in his lot with those who were
conspiring to assassinate Caesar.
114
As discreetly as possible, Brutus devoted his time and energy to testing

friends and others within the aristocracy, searching out further supporters
for the cause. The sneaking around and the gravity of the scheme seems to
have taken a heavy toll on him. During the day, he tried to hide his preoc-
cupation with the matter, while at night, it disturbed his sleep. The stress-
induced changes in his personality, at least behind closed doors, did not
escape the notice of his new wife, Porcia, daughter of his half-uncle Cato.
Like many elite women of that time, Porcia intended to share the political
and the personal life of her husband; she proved to him her strength and
bravery and convinced Brutus to confide in her regarding the plot against
Caesar. From that point on, Porcia became another integral part of the
Conspiracy of the Liberators, as they thought of themselves.
On the Ides (15th) of March 44 BCE, Brutus left his home secretly armed
with a dagger for the murder of Caesar. He rendezvoused with Cassius and
the other conspirators outside the Curia of Pompey, the meeting hall des-
ignated for that day’s gathering of the Senate. He tried to conduct himself
calmly, performing the typical duties of the praetor urbanus, while anx-
iously awaiting the arrival of Caesar. His anxiety only increased when he
received news from home that his wife, Porcia, had collapsed from what
appears to have been a mini-stroke. Once Caesar arrived, Brutus and other
senators escorted him inside the Curia to his seat of honor; the plotters im-
mediately put their plan into action. As they hemmed the dictator in and
lunged at him with their weapons, Brutus appears to have been one of the
last to enter the fray. According to one tradition, the very sight of Brutus
attacking him, after he had treated him like a son for many years, over-
whelmed Caesar, who seems to have given up resisting the onslaught, cov-
ering his head with his robe and falling to the floor.
Brutus had the honor, as the Conspirators saw it, of announcing to the
assembled senators, all thoroughly horrified at what had just transpired,
the reasons for their deed, especially their desire “to restore freedom” to
the Republic. Not having much success in this, since most of the senators
quickly fled for their own homes, Brutus led his associates across town and
up the Capitoline Hill, most sacred to the Roman god Jupiter. In front of
the latter’s great temple there, Brutus made another speech to the citizens
gathered around to calm their fears and confusion. Afterward, a crowd of
senators escorted him down into the Forum to deliver yet another speech
to the people there. This went well until Caesar’s brother-in-law, Cinna
the Younger, who had not even taken part in the assassination, stood up to
speak on behalf of the Conspirators and aroused popular anger instead of
sympathy. Brutus led his fellows back up to the Capitoline for refuge, fear-
ing a riot.
From that moment on, the self-styled Liberators had lost the initiative.
Caesar’s lieutenants, Antony and Lepidus the Younger, played the game
115
of keeping peace with Brutus and the others while also stirring up popular
resentment to make life in the city of Rome too dangerous for them. Cae-
sar’s young heir, Octavian, announced his undying hatred of the Conspira-
tors and his intention to punish them all with death. When these three men
ganged up on the state about a year and a half after the assassination, those
who supported Brutus and his associates, like the famous orator Cicero,
faced the potential loss of their own lives and could only pin their hopes on
a decisive military defeat of Caesar’s successors.
In the meantime, having taken up positions in the eastern provinces of
the empire (some legitimately, others not), Brutus and the others gathered
together men, arms, and other resources for the final showdown. While
some, like Cicero, hoped it would take place soon and in Italy, where cities
and citizens could easily rally to Brutus’s cause in large numbers, it actu-
ally occurred late (in 42 BCE, months after Cicero’s own execution) and in
northern Greece, at Philippi. Antony and Octavian attempted to prevent
the army of the Liberators from moving any further west; Brutus, enthu-
siastic about putting a decisive end to the turmoil of the Republic, waged
two battles against their forces.
In the first encounter, he scored a clear victory over his opponents, but,
in the confusion, lost his comrade Cassius, who, defeated in his own sector
of combat, believed that their side had been entirely defeated and commit-
ted suicide to avoid capture. Even with this turn of events, Brutus had the
advantage over his adversaries in terms of manpower, supplies, and control
of the sea. Unfortunately, this bred in him a certain overconfidence; even
though he was aware of it, he did not fully appreciate just how restless
and shaky were those soldiers who had recently met defeat under Cassius’s
command. Instead of waiting out Antony and Octavian, Brutus launched
a second battle, in a sense to prove his stronger position and to keep all
his men focused. He could not, however, be everywhere on the battle-
field at once and only those troops under his direct command acquitted
themselves well, while the others broke and caused further trouble in their
fearful panic. Brutus found his core force surrounded by the enemy and
witnessed the slaughter of friends and brave lieutenants. Having escaped
a short distance from the field, he killed himself by thrusting a sword into
his chest.
Later authors, especially those inspired by the writings of his friends and
sympathizers, carried the image of Brutus as a sort of philosophical para-
gon, always moral, always rational, to extremes; a number of actions in his
life both before and during the struggle for the Republic clearly reveal a
more complex human being, capable of deceit, greed, and self-interest.
Nevertheless, Brutus earned the respect of even his worst adversaries, as
seen in the very honorable treatment of his corpse by Antony in the after-
math of Philippi; the latter wrapped the body in his own most expensive
116
CAESAR’S GENIUS/“GREAT
CAESAR’S GHOST!”
The Romans believed that every citizen, and, indeed, every Roman
family, enjoyed the protection of a guardian spirit, basically a sort of
supernatural extension or double of the self called genius in the case
of males and iuno in the case of females. Represented in art as a snake,
either bearded or beardless depending on the gender of the individ-
ual, the genius or iuno received regular prayers and offerings of food
or other precious items every day.
The Imperial biographer Plutarch refers to Caesar’s genius as not
only watching over Caesar but also helping him in all his achievements.
Romans generally believed that one’s genius passed away with one’s
death, but Plutarch asserts that Caesar’s persisted even after his assas-
sination, punishing anyone and everyone associated with his demise.
The tradition of the power of Caesar’s genius continued in West-
ern popular culture, probably enhanced by the treatment of it in
Shakespeare’s play, Julius Caesar. Rendered by the English word
“ghost,” such attention to Caesar’s genius likely generated the com-
mon phrase, “Great Caesar’s ghost!”—an acceptable substitute for
invoking the name of God. The character of Perry White, editor of
the Daily Planet newspaper in the Superman comics, has perhaps
made the exclamation most famous.
purple cloak, cremated it with all propriety, and sent the ashes back home
to Brutus’s mother for burial. Brutus had developed a reputation for integ-
rity, not always perfectly merited, but perhaps more than most possessed.
He has lived on, in the annals of Roman history and beyond, as a potent, if
exaggerated, symbol of resistance to tyranny.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Capitoline Hill; Cassius
(ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna
the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Ides of
March; Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE); Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE);
Libertas/Dominatio; Optimates; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE); Suicide
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
117
Clarke, M. L. 1981. The Noblest Roman: Marcus Brutus and His Reputation. Lon-
don: Thames and Hudson.
lishing.
Publishing.
Sharples, R. W. 1996. Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics. London: Routledge.
118
C
Caesar I–IV (Computer Games 1993–2006)
Caesar I–IV (Computer Games

1993–2006)
In today’s hi-tech culture, thousands and thousands of people acquire
knowledge about the ancient world through the playing of computer
games. At least fifty of such games have the Roman Empire as their set-
ting. Among the most popular and successful of these has been the series of
four games entitled, “Caesar,” created by Impressions Games and released
through Sierra Entertainment in 1993 (the prototype already out in 1992),
1995, and 1998, concluding with “Caesar IV,” developed and released by
Tilted Mill Entertainment in 2006.
The rise to power of the historical Julius Caesar certainly provided the
inspiration for these games, since the ultimate purpose for each player is to
build up such a flourishing provincial base of operations (as Caesar did in
the Gallic territories) that he or she can from there assume rulership of the
empire (which the real Caesar did by beginning a Civil War with his rivals
in Rome). Of course, this sort of pattern repeated itself later in the his-
tory of Rome, for instance, when a series of provincial governors rebelled
against the Emperor Nero in 68–69 CE, overthrowing his power and vying
with one another for the position of emperor. Indeed, the creators of these
games do not intend for their title to refer to Julius Caesar, but to all those
emperors, who called themselves, after him, “Caesars” of Rome. The goal
of the games, then, is to become “a” Caesar, not Julius Caesar himself, and
the structure of the game acknowledges that there is already an emperor in
Rome whom the player must at first placate through completing a series of
missions and eventually replace. Even in the last incarnation, “Caesar IV,”
with its greater attention to the historical periods of Rome from monarchy
to republic to empire, the basic purpose remains the same.
Not surprisingly, the “Caesar” series, like the vast majority of computer
games, entails a sizable dose of warfare. In its first incarnation, the players
did not engage in combat simulations but instead honed their skills in the
logistics of war, such as attention to supplies and funding; routes of attack;
nature of the enemy, both culturally and militarily; construction of fortifica-
tions, and so on. For the purposes of the game setting in its second version,
the Roman Empire did not extend beyond Italy itself, so the player literally
learned how to create the empire, provincial conquest by provincial con-
quest, in competition with a simulated opponent, which also sought to rack
up such victories. In a sense, the player had to race to expand the Roman
Empire. By the third version of “Caesar,” players provided the battle or-
ders for their troops, which then engaged in simulated combat accordingly.
Even so, the key focus of players throughout the series must be on carry-
ing out the processes of civilization, not only battling back adversaries and
121
Caesar I–IV (Computer Games 1993–2006)
invaders, or players will not win. Thus, besides learning a bit about gen-
eral developments in Roman politics through these games (and one must
be careful in doing so, considering the inconsistencies with actual history,
as already seen briefly in the comments discussed earlier) and the require-
ments of war and defense, players develop a fairly extensive knowledge of
how complex societies function and about their essential needs. To become
a successful provincial governor, a player has to provide amenities of life
which, as in Julius Caesar’s time, had become staples of civilized culture.
This means the construction of bathhouses and theaters for entertainment
and leisure, libraries and schools for education, roads and harbors for trade
and movement of troops, and the prevention of depreciating housing val-
ues, labor problems, excessive taxation, famines, and so on. The video-
gaming world today abounds in this “city-building,” which, in the case of
the “Caesar” series, can help a player understand the actual social history
of the empire.
The third incarnation of “Caesar” delved even more deeply into this so-
cial history by displaying to the player the lives of Roman citizens of dif-
ferent social levels; such characters could be asked about their experiences,
and the player thereby acquired a fuller understanding of what he or she
had to do to make himself or herself a successful governor and beloved
emperor. By “Caesar IV,” the interface between virtually autonomous citi-
zen characters and the player had become so sophisticated that success de-
pended on keeping a careful eye on a myriad of “moving parts,” not unlike
what Roman governors, Julius Caesar perhaps foremost among them, really
had to do in ancient times.
Despite all that players might learn, and they can learn a great deal,
about the ancient Roman world (and, by abstraction, about the challenges
faced by individual Roman governors, like Julius Caesar) through engaging
in games like those of the “Caesar” series, they must also be cautious about
the more subliminal messages communicated, wittingly or unwittingly, by
the games’ creators. For players are conditioned to believe that they are
“civilizing the barbarians,” which means that they are basically adopting the
cultural biases of the ancient Romans themselves without any compunction
or doubt, without the critical awareness that would come from studying the
history in a more formal way. Many high school and college students today
devote considerable time to such games and believe that they “understand”
the Roman world. In fact, by playing such games as those in the “Caesar”
series, they are imbibing and perpetuating a positive attitude toward con-
quest and domination, toward the “benefits” of imperialism, toward a very
particular definition of “civilized” life that can blind them to the deeper re-
alities and complexities of the Roman world and of our own.
See also: Army; Education; Legions; Provinces; Taxation/ Tax Farming
122
Further Reading
Tilted Mill Entertainment Website. http://tiltedmill.com. Accessed February 26,
2014.

One of the most controversial legacies of Julius Caesar was the question
of his paternity in the case of Ptolemy XV Caesarion. The latter’s mother,
Cleopatra, as well as friends of Caesar, especially Marc Antony, insisted
on that paternity, whereas Caesar’s adopted son, Octavian, made out that
such claims were fraudulent and utilized the controversy as one pretext for
Civil War.
According to the ancient evidence, including an official inscription on
an Egyptian temple, Caesarion celebrated the day of his birth as June 23,
47 BCE. Caesar’s intimate relationship with Cleopatra must have begun very
soon after his arrival in Egypt (October 2, 48 BCE), for Caesarion to have
been born on the date recorded as a true son of Caesar; this is likely consid-
ering Caesar’s passion for attractive and intelligent women. Two years later,
he invited Cleopatra and her infant son to visit Rome, where they lived
Bas-reliefs of Cleopatra and

Caesarion on a section of the
back wall in the Temple of
Hathor at Dendera, Egypt. The
famous queen (wearing the
headdress of the goddess) assists
and joins her son (depicted as
the ruler of the Two Lands of
Egypt) in making offerings to
Hathor. (Library of Congress)
123
together (until after Caesar’s assassination in 44 BCE) in one of Caesar’s vil-

las on the western side of the Tiber River (in today’s Trastevere district).
Caesar had never seen the boy, since he had left the pregnant Cleopatra
behind while he went off to deal with pressing military issues in the east-
ern territories of the Empire. Surely, though, he would have received news
about the baby long before Cleopatra’s visit to Rome.
The Imperial biographer Suetonius notes the tradition among Greek
writers, who recorded that Caesarion looked very similar to Caesar, and
even walked like him, both acceptable proofs of paternity in ancient times
(as today). The biographer also intimates, however, that Caesar did not
quite approve Cleopatra’s calling of the child by the name Caesarion (which
means “little Caesar”); he “tolerated” the usage, says Suetonius.
The only one of Caesar’s fellow Romans whose mention of the child sur-
vives in a contemporary form was the famous orator Cicero. In a letter to
his close friend Atticus, dated to May 11, 44 BCE (almost two months after
the assassination of Caesar), Cicero simply expressed his hope that what he
had heard about the child of Cleopatra was true. Tantalizingly vague, per-
haps this can be taken to indicate that Cicero hoped Caesar was, indeed, the
father. This would have fit neatly into Cicero’s own political agenda at the
time, which was to advance the career of Octavian, Caesar’s great-nephew,
as a counterweight to Marc Antony, Caesar’s friend and closest associate.
Since Caesarion would have been, at best, an illegitimate child of an illicit
affair with a foreign woman, Caesar’s paternity would have worked to Oc-
tavian’s advantage, discredited the dictator himself, and divided his sup-
porters between those favoring one “son” or the other, thus making them
easier to destroy by the forces of the Republic, as Cicero saw it.
After Caesar’s assassination, the issue of paternity became quite impor-
tant, especially since Caesar had left nothing to Caesarion in his will (not
surprising, considering all the potential grounds under Roman law for in-
validation of such an inheritance by a “foreign” prince, as noted earlier)
and, in fact, had left his estate and his name to Octavian. The latter took
great pride in being the new C. Julius Caesar and greatly resented Antony
for telling the Senate that Caesar had, indeed, acknowledged Caesarion as
his flesh and blood. Antony also claimed there were other witnesses to this
recognition of paternity, among them Caesar’s good friends, C. Oppius and
C. Matius.
Exactly when Antony declared these statements is unspecified in the
sources, but he likely threw Caesarion’s “true sonship” in Octavian’s face
right from the start of their quarrel over Caesar’s legacy as first man in
Rome, in other words, shortly after the latter’s death. Certainly, by the
time Antony became personally involved with Cleopatra (about three years
later), his advocacy of her son would have been a key element of their re-
lationship.
124
As tensions between Antony and Octavian waxed and waned over the
following decade, Caesarion’s fate, in a sense, hung in the balance. His
mother already regarded him as her co-ruler, technically since the time he
was two years old and even more so from age eleven. Then, when Caesa-
rion reached age thirteen (34 BCE), Antony asserted at the ceremony of the
so-called “Donations of Alexandria” that, on behalf of the dearly departed
Julius Caesar, the latter’s son by Cleopatra should rule the island of Cyprus
and hold the title “King of Kings.”
Octavian could not stand for this even bigger insult to his inheritance.
Fortunately, he had on his side one of those friends of Caesar who could
supposedly vouch for Caesarion’s paternity, C. Oppius. Perhaps two years
after Antony’s grand pronouncement, Oppius published a libellus (a public
letter or political pamphlet), in which he categorically denied any relation
of Caesarion to Caesar, implicating Cleopatra in a deliberate deception of
her former lover. Nevertheless, Antony, even in his own will, gave legal wit-
ness that Caesarion was the true son of Julius Caesar.
The dubious victory of Octavian’s forces over those of Antony in 31 BCE
opened the final chapter of Caesarion’s life. Having turned sixteen in the
summer of that year, while Antony and Cleopatra were away on campaign,
he finally celebrated his coming-of-age, his transition into adulthood, after
their return to Egypt. Undaunted by the looming invasion of Octavian’s
army, Antony and Cleopatra ordered festivities in honor of Caesarion, who
was enrolled in the Alexandrian ephebate, the order of young men prepared
for military duties and civic life; similarly, Antyllus, Antony’s eldest son by
a previous marriage, was also honored, only in Roman style. In this way,
the queen and her husband hoped to leave behind them two strong young
men to carry on the fight against Octavian, should anything happen to
them. Furthermore, Cleopatra would leave to the people of Egypt a legiti-
mate king. In the end, Octavian used Caesarion’s status, as a monarch and
a “grown man,” against him.
Perhaps after Octavian’s invasion of Egypt or later after Antony’s suicide,
Caesarion fled for safety to the Red Sea coast, planning to travel southward
into Nubia (today’s Sudan and Ethiopia) and from there across to India;
his mother had strong ties with leaders in both places, who hopefully would
grant her son asylum. She provided him with the appropriate funds. Un-
fortunately, Caesarion’s principal companion, his tutor Rhodon, persuaded
the young king to return to Alexandria and seek pardon, and his throne,
from Octavian. The latter had no intention of such a thing; his soldiers in-
tercepted Caesarion on his return journey and executed him at their Octa-
vian’s orders.
In the period following the downfall of Cleopatra and Antony, and
the death of Caesarion, the question of the latter’s paternity remained a
topic to be written about, especially by those who wanted to herald the
125
Calendar
transformation of Octavian into Augustus, the first Emperor of Rome.

For example, the author, educator, and philosopher, Nicolaus of Damas-
cus, who had actually for a time been quite close to Cleopatra and Ant-
ony, having served as a tutor to their children, nevertheless asserted, in
his later biography of Augustus, that Caesar himself had refuted any con-
nection to Caesarion in his will. In the new world order under Augustus,
there could not be more than one son of Caesar, whether that was the
truth or not.
See also: Alexandria; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cleopatra
(d. 30 BCE); Egypt; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Oppius and Hir-
tius; Plutarch’s Lives; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE); Suicide
Further Reading
Press.
Cooley, A. 2009. Res Gestae Divi Augusti. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Ltd.
inger Publishing.
nesota Press.
Radice, B. 1984. Josephus: The Jewish War. New York: Penguin Publishing.
lishing.
Calendar
Like many other ancient cultures of the world, the Romans developed a
calendar based on the movement and phases of the moon. Julius Caesar re-
vised the official Roman calendar based, instead, on the earth’s movement
around the sun.
126
Calendar
Ancient Roman mosaic with figures representing the seasons (left column) and the
months of the year (beginning traditionally with March). Such mosaic calendars, with
their scenes of harvest, hunting, and celebration, became a popular form of home
decoration under the Roman Emperors. 2nd–4th century CE, El Jem, Tunisia.
(Fotocvet/Dreamstime.com)
The official calendar of Rome fell under the purview of the city’s most
important board or collegium of priests, the pontiffs or pontifices, chaired
by the Pontifex Maximus. Generation after generation, the pontiffs were
trained as the timekeepers of Roman society. At some point in their past,
the pontiffs (probably with some influence from Greek astronomy) had
come to calculate the year as consisting of 12 lunar cycles, with each cycle
(from new moon to new moon) lasting roughly 29.5 days; the pontiffs
evened out these cycles or months (as we call them, from the word moon)
by assigning 29 days to each of them, with the exception of February (to
127
Calendar
which they allotted only 28 days) and March, May, July, and October (to
each of which they assigned 31 days). Why it was done in this fashion is un-
clear from the available evidence. Regardless of the reason, the pontiffs thus
arranged an annual calendar 355 days long.
Most of the names for the months have come down to our own time
with only slight modern linguistic variation; the English equivalent, for
example, of Ianuarius is January, of Februarius is February, of Martius is
March, of Aprilis is April, of Maius is May, of Iunius is June, and Septem-
ber, October, November, and December remain identical in English and
Latin; the only exceptions are Quinctilis and Sextilis, which the Romans
themselves renamed Iulius (July) and Augustus (August), respectively, to
commemorate the birth months of Julius Caesar and his heir, the first em-
peror of Rome.
Each month began with a special day named Kalendae (the Kalends;
e.g., January 1 was the Kalends of January), hence the very word “cal-
endar,” and there were other days within the month that also had special
names, such as Nonae (the Nones), which fell either on the fifth or the
seventh, and Idus (the Ides), which fell either on the thirteenth or the fif-
teenth (the later dates applying to months of thirty-one days); so, when
Caesar was assassinated on the Ides of March that meant the fifteenth day
of that month. These three special days coincided originally with phases of
the moon (New, Half, and Full, respectively).
During the Republic, there were no other names for “days of the week,”
as in the American calendar; these developed centuries later (e.g., dies
Saturni, Saturn’s day or Saturday) under the influence of Greek astrol-
ogy. Instead, Romans counted “so many days before” either the Kalends,
Nones, or Ides to identify a particular day besides those three special ones.
In addition, every eighth day was designated as a market day (nundinae),
especially important to farmers, craftsmen, and merchants, and certain
other days were designated as “well-omened” (fas) or “ill-omened” (nefas)
for the holding of particular political or religious functions.
Over the course of several years, the lunar method of tracking time
would no longer match up properly with the regular shifting of the sea-
sons, and the Romans understood this. To compensate, the priests would
add what they called an intercalary month, basically increasing the num-
ber of days within a year. Ideally, this would be done every other year with
the addition of an intercalary month of about twenty-two days, usually
inserted near the end of the month of February or after it, since this was
the last month of the traditional calendar year, which for centuries began
with the springtime month of March. Even after the middle of the sec-
ond century BCE, when the Romans began to reckon the official calen-
dar year from January instead (primarily to accommodate certain military
concerns), they tried not to break the tradition of February intercalation;
128
Calendar
hence the origin of the leap-year tradition in modern calendars of the

West.
The pontiffs could, however, insert the intercalary month, or even just
intercalary days, at whatever point in the year they deemed appropriate.
This could become quite a confusing and even complicated process under
normal circumstances; since the pontiffs not only served as religious per-
sonnel but also often held political office, some of them found ways to ma-
nipulate the intercalation to suit their own political agendas, thus tangling
up the process even further. In chaotic political and military conditions, the
intercalation might not even be done when and how needed, leaving the
lunar calendar to drift out of sync with the seasons.
By the summer of 46 BCE, when the Senate appointed Caesar as dictator
for a ten-year term, the Roman calendar was, in fact, marching more than
two months faster than the seasons. In his capacity as both dictator and Pon-
tifex Maximus (he held the latter office since 63 BCE), Caesar reworked the
calendar for the remainder of 46 BCE by adding sixty-seven extra days be-
tween the months of November and December. On January 1, 45 BCE, he
officially put into operation a solar calendar of 365 days, which would much
more closely track with the seasons, even though it also required adjustments
in the number of days assigned to each month (just as in our calendar today).
Caesar had learned about this version of solar calendar during his time
with Cleopatra in Egypt. The Egyptians had developed the oldest solar cal-
endars in the Mediterranean world millennia before his time, and it may
have been a scholar in Egypt, Sosigenes of Alexandria, who most assisted
Caesar in his efforts. Yet, the Imperial biographer Plutarch, probably dis-
playing a traditional Greek bias against Egyptian science (he fails to men-
tions Sosigenes at all), gives Caesar credit for creating the solar calendar
for Rome by studying diligently the other models available and improving
upon them significantly (though he does not say exactly how). Accord-
ing to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar’s key move was to order
the regular reduction of the intercalary month to an intercalary day, to be
added to the calendar every fourth year at the end of February.
With only one minor alteration, ordered by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582,
Caesar’s new Roman calendar has continued to function to this very day
and has spread around the world with the spread of Western culture.
See also: Dictator; Egypt; Ides of March; Pontifex Maximus; Religion,
Roman
Further Reading
Hannah, R. 2005. Greek and Roman Calendars. London: Duckworth.
129
Calpurnia
Michels, A. K. 1967. The Calendar of the Roman Republic. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press.
and New York: Penguin Publishing.
Calpurnia
In 59 BCE, Julius Caesar married for the third and last time in his life to an
aristocratic woman named Calpurnia. Though her union with him took
place for political purposes, Calpurnia seems to have developed genuine af-
fection for her husband. Unlike his marriage to Cornelia, which had been
fraught with political dangers, or to Pompeia, which had been wrecked by
personal scandal, Caesar’s marriage to Calpurnia, during perhaps the most
turbulent and certainly the most famous period of his life, served as an is-
land of calm stability.
In traditional Roman fashion, Calpurnia’s father, L. Calpurnius Piso,
arranged the match between his daughter and Caesar; we have no evi-
dence of how old she was at that time. Caesar certainly initiated things,
Calpurnia, Caesar’s Wife,

Admonishing Caesar Not to Go
to the Senate on the Ides of
March, 44 BCE. Painting by the
nineteenth-century French
artist, Abel de Pujol.
(Bettmann/Corbis)
130
Calpurnia
though, because it was he who wanted to tie Piso politically to himself

and, by extension, to his associates, Pompey and Crassus. Together as the
“First Triumvirate,” the three had secured a dominant position over mat-
ters of state; Caesar hoped that Piso would continue their efforts and pro-
tect their interests in his capacity as consul in 58 BCE, which the Triumvirs
had gained for him. Caesar’s most vocal adversary, Cato the Younger, ac-
cused him of prostituting the political process through this marriage alli-
ance, though this was an odd criticism, considering that almost the entire
Roman aristocracy promoted itself through advantageous marriages and
political favoritism.
Calpurnia’s marriage to Caesar lasted fifteen years, but she spent, in fact,
less time with him than either of his previous wives. Indeed, the two of
them were separated for nearly a decade while he waged his famous wars in
Gaul (roughly modern France), and that separation began only a year after
their wedding. They must have corresponded during that time, though we
have no proof to consult; perhaps she visited him when he spent the win-
ters in northern Italy.
The nature of the marriage as primarily political, at least from Caesar’s
perspective, is demonstrated by the fact that, about midway into the period
of his governorship in Gaul, Caesar considered divorcing Calpurnia. Under
Roman custom, he could have argued for infertility as the cause; his wife
had given him no children. The real reason was political, however: to forge
a tighter alliance with Pompey. The most vital link between the two men
had been severed by the death of Pompey’s young wife, Julia, who was Cae-
sar’s daughter from his first marriage. In 53 BCE, a year after her passing,
Caesar proposed marrying Pompey’s daughter, Pompeia, then probably in
her twenties, to heal the breach between them; in addition, he suggested
that Pompey take an even younger girl, Caesar’s great-niece, Octavia, as his
new bride.
Pompey rejected the whole offer; Caesar and Calpurnia remained mar-
ried but were still separated by his military exploits in Gaul. The Civil War
that soon ensued between himself and Pompey did not help matters, since
it meant many more months of distance from his wife over an additional
period of five years and brought him into direct contact with Cleopatra.
Caesar had many affairs outside of marriage throughout his lifetime, but
none was so threatening to Calpurnia as his relationship with the Egyptian
queen, since the latter claimed that her son, Ptolemy XV, was Caesarion,
that is, little son of Caesar. There is no evidence pertaining to Calpurnia’s
attitude toward Cleopatra or her son, not even when they came to live in
one of her husband’s villas in Rome for about two years; we can only imag-
ine. Calpurnia had, after all, no such hold on her husband as the queen did.
Despite all this, Calpurnia surely seems to have remained faithful, in-
deed, devoted to Caesar and to have cared a great deal for him, as her
131
Calpurnia
stressful nightmare on the evening before his assassination indicates. She

awoke frantically in the middle of the night, having dreamed that Caesar
lay in her arms, covered in blood from stab wounds. Neither Caesar, whom,
tradition says, had little true faith in Roman religion, nor his wife really be-
lieved in messages from the gods, but she considered her nightmare to be
something uncanny, some sort of warning. She begged her husband not to
leave the house and not to meet with the Senate as scheduled. He followed
her advice and sent for the professional dream interpreters, who echoed her
warning. One of the men secretly conspiring against Caesar, however, con-
vinced him what an insult it would be to the senators to dismiss them (sim-
ply because Calpurnia had had bad dreams) after they had, in fact, gathered
at Caesar’s own orders.
Caesar left for the meeting and, not long after, Calpurnia’s nightmare
became reality. When his body was carried home, she frantically ran outside,
accompanied by friends and servants, weeping bitterly over her husband
and accusing herself of failing to make stick her warning to him.
Clearly, the connection between Caesar and Calpurnia’s family never wa-
vered, since it was her father who arranged for Caesar’s will to be removed
from the custody of the Vestal Virgins and delivered to Marc Antony. Ac-
cording to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, the will left all of Caesar’s
estate to the young men descended from his sisters; Suetonius makes no
mention of anything for Calpurnia. In contrast, his contemporary, Plu-
tarch, notes that after Caesar’s irregular funeral, Calpurnia chose to hand
over most of the estate to Antony.
Caesar had not spent much of his final marriage with his wife; regardless
of how he treated her, however, she certainly demonstrated firm devotion
to him right to the end. Calpurnia, thereby, faded into history while em-
bodying the traditional ideals of a Roman wife.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Caesarion (47–30 BCE);
Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Cornelia (d. 69 BCE); Conspiracy of the Libera-
tors (44 BCE); Dreams/Dream Interpretation; Ides of March; Marriage/
Divorce; Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Triumvirate; Vestal Virgins
Further Reading
Routledge.
Press.
132
Camps
Ltd.
Press.
University Press.
Camps
Although all ancient armies utilized camp sites as places of rest and refuge
while on campaign, the Romans developed the military camp to a whole
Ruins of a Roman military encampment at Masada, Israel. Dating from ca. 72 CE,
many years after Caesar’s time, the ruins nonetheless convey accurately the way in
which Romans had designed their military camps for generations.
(Meoita/Dreamstime.com)
133
Camps
new level. Rarely did they proceed in battle without first erecting at least
one battlefield camp, no matter how strenuous the task, and doing so in-
spired them with confidence against their foes and strengthened their indi-
vidual and collective sense of discipline.
Less is known about Roman camps (castrae) of the Republic than of the
empire, because so much more archaeological evidence of them survives
from the latter period. Still, what can be gleaned from the scanty archaeo-
logical remains and from the literary accounts (including the writings of
Julius Caesar himself) suggests a fairly fixed, basic outline for Roman camps
from at least the early third century BCE onward, requiring many soldiers to
practice and perfect construction skills that allowed them to build, tempo-
rarily, a small, fortified city for their army on the march.
The Romans marked off the site for a camp with a square or rectan-
gular ditch, probably modeled on the pomerium, or sacred trench, that
surrounded their towns and cities and supposedly protected them from
evil spirits. In more practical terms, this ditch served the obvious purpose
of slowing down or even preventing an enemy’s attack. During his mili-
tary campaigns in Gaul (roughly modern France) and the war against his
Roman rivals across the empire, Caesar ordered his troops to dig trenches
as wide as eighteen feet and sometimes almost just as deep; while one-third
of his soldiers were engaged in this activity, the others stood on guard all
around as a covering force to protect them from enemy assault and some-
times they even erected beyond the trenches a temporary artificial barrier of
earth or wood for added protection. During the first year of the Civil War
when he was confronting Afranius and Petreius, Pompey’s legates in Spain,
Caesar conceived of a method that was even more ingenious. He deliber-
ately shielded the trench diggers with such a tight cordon of their comrades
that the opposing commanders could not even tell that a defensive ditch
was under way until it was finished and Caesar withdrew all his men behind
it to protect them from an overnight attack.
The digging of ditches around a military camp served another practical
function as well: the dirt and turf removed from the ground was normally
heaped up along the inside perimeter of the ditches as the foundation for a
wooden palisade (itself typically twelve feet tall at Caesar’s camps), yet an-
other line of protection for the troops inside the camp. Further trenches
might also be dug parallel to a camp’s palisade and small forts placed along
them or at their terminal points (as Caesar did during the rebellion of the
Belgae) to prevent an enemy from getting too close to the camp itself or
flanking the staging ground of the army outside it.
At the midpoint in each wall of a camp’s palisade, Roman military engi-
neers placed a gate, with guards on station on the ground and usually on
flanking watch towers. Multiple gates, especially the forward one (facing the
enemy’s position) and the postern or rear gate, gave the Romans options
134
Camps
when engaged in attacking the enemy; troops, like those under Caesar’s
lieutenant Labienus in the Gallic campaign, could thus come streaming out
from camp unexpectedly in multiple directions, a challenge to the enemy’s
defensive countermeasures.
Each of the four gates of a camp opened onto a road inside it; one of
these roads ran clear across the camp between two of the gates and was
referred to as the via principalis or main road. Along one side of this via
principalis stood the headquarters of the army, consisting of the praetorium
or commander’s tent (protected by his special guard, his cohors praetoria or
praetorian cohort), the quaestorium (the tent of the commander’s quaestor
or supply/pay master), and the forum (an open meeting area). The mili-
tary tribunes of the legions and the prefects of non-Roman allied contin-
gents also placed their tents just in front of the headquarters along the via
principalis.
The remainder of the infantry and cavalry set up their tents, grouped in
their units, along subsidiary roads laid out parallel to the via principalis or
perpendicular to it. Besides these fairly standard dispositions, the interior
layout of each particular camp varied according to how many legions and
auxiliaries were stationed there together. For example, a common design
placed the tents of the very best of the allied contingent behind the camp
headquarters (between it and one of the walls), and the veteran and special
volunteer Roman infantry and cavalry on the headquarters’ flanking sides;
all these forces, then, had a place of honor near the commander’s tent. In
this arrangement of a camp, the rest of the Roman cavalry, infantry, and the
other allied troops erected their tents on the opposite side of the via prin-
cipalis from the headquarters, in rows paralleling the flanking walls of the
camp, so that the streets in between the rows of tents were laid out perpen-
dicular to the via principalis itself.
Savvy Roman commanders did not take the inherent strengths of this
sort of battlefield fortification for granted; they looked to enhance those
strengths, whenever possible, by the strategic positioning of their camps,
as determined by themselves and their scouts. Caesar, for instance, almost
always sought two allies in the natural terrain, water and elevation. When-
ever a river, for instance, flowed near the battle site, he attempted to locate
his camp next to it, with the rear of his fortification backing up against the
stream and thus providing yet another barrier for an enemy to contend
with in any attempt to attack from that side. He also frequently placed his
camps on the top or slopes of low-lying hills, especially during the Gallic
Wars (e.g., in the campaign against the Helvetii, an invading tribe of war-
riors from Switzerland in 58 BCE), from which he could command a pan-
oramic view of the area and make assaults by the enemy more challenging,
since they would have to rush uphill while his men had the advantage of
momentum coming downhill.
135
Camps
During the Civil War, Caesar and his rivals constructed camps of varying
sizes, sometimes strings of them crisscrossing the battle zone, and moved
their troops among them in their chess-like efforts to gain an advantage in
terms of surveillance capability, access to water, food, and other resources,
or even to exert pressure on the opposing side into starting an engagement
(since Romans obsessed over delaying an attack until the odds favored their
side). He had followed the same methods against his Gallic adversaries
(e.g., Ariovistus of the Suebi) in previous campaigns, thereby spreading his
troops across much of the battle zone by erecting, one-by-one, a series of
forts. Roman camps, then, served as platforms for other strategic actions
besides simply defense and sortie.
Since the Romans did so much to fortify and defend their camps, pene-
tration of a Roman camp by an enemy force, any enemy force, was regarded
as a terrible disgrace and often as a clear sign of imminent defeat. Pompey
responded this way during the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BCE when Cae-
sar’s forces assaulted his camp. The tide of the fighting had turned quickly
against Pompey and he had retreated into the safety of his fortifications.
That Caesar’s men routed Pompey’s on the field of battle was bad enough,
but that they then not only attacked the defenders along the walls of Pom-
pey’s camp but also got inside the fortress themselves showed clearly just
how everything had gone wrong for Pompey. According to the Imperial
biographer Plutarch, Pompey expressed shock at the news that Caesar’s sol-
diers were continuing the battle inside his own camp; it was then that he,
uncharacteristically, ran for his life.
All this amounted to a new experience for Pompey; in his remarkably
successful military career, he had never been defeated in battle and certainly
had never lost a military encampment to any opponent. The troops he left
behind behaved like true Romans, defending the fort as long as they could.
When Caesar arrived on the scene, he witnessed this continued devotion
and marveled at the number of fallen inside the camp itself.
The training and regular practice of building camps made Roman sol-
diers some of the most skilful in the Mediterranean world. They could
literally fortify anything. In this regard, Caesar’s men demonstrated their
talents in the fall of 48 BCE when he ordered them to turn a considerable
portion of the Egyptian capital at Alexandria into one, big camp, success-
fully held by them against the local population and the royal army of Egypt
for months and utilized by his troops as the base of operations for their own
military victories.
The camps of the Roman army during the Republic (e.g., those of Cae-
sar in Gaul) attracted local traders eager to sell their goods, some necessi-
ties, some not, to the Roman soldiers. Often camps of the Republic formed
the core of new civilian communities across Italy and the rest of the empire;
under the emperors, the old wooden walls and tents were replaced with
136
Campus Martius
stone to form the legionary fortresses that protected the empire from inva-
sion for generations (though, naturally, temporary marching camps contin-
ued in use under the emperors as well).
See also: Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Ariovistus; Army;
Belgae; Helvetii; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Legions; Pharsalus, Battle of
(48 BCE); Siegecraft; Spain
Further Reading
Adcock, F. E. 1940. The Roman Art of War under the Republic. Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press.
sical World. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
ford, UK: Oxford University Press.
Milner, N. P. 1997. Vegetius: Epitome of Military Science. Liverpool, UK: Liverpool
University Press.
Parker, H.M.D. 1993. The Roman Legions. New York: Barnes and Noble.
Peddie, J. 1994. The Roman War Machine. Stroud, UK: Sutton Press.
Scott-Kilvert, I. 1979. Polybius: The Rise of the Roman Empire. London: Penguin
Publishing.
Campus Martius
The Campus Martius, located northwest of the city center of ancient Rome,
comprised the land bordered by the Tiber River and the Esquiline, Quiri-
nal, and Capitoline Hills. Originally a wide open field (campus in Latin)
belonging, according to tradition, to the kings of early Roman history and
named after Mars (hence Martius), the Roman god of warfare, by Caesar’s
day, it had become a multifaceted extension of downtown Rome.
During the period of the Roman Republic, the Campus Martius was not
regarded as part of the city of Rome proper but rather as a sort of append-
age to it. The urban core of Rome consisted of the Roman Forum and the
hills enclosing it. That core was surrounded from very early times by a man-
made boundary line, marked over the generations by ditches and walls,
known as the pomerium. Romans considered the pomerium a sacred barrier
between the outside world and their city center. The Campus Martius tech-
nically lay outside this barrier.
This separation was solidified by the earliest uses to which the Romans
put the Campus, that is, mustering their armed forces and training them for
battle. None of this could be done within the city center; to be armed for
137
Campus Martius
combat within the pomerium Romans considered improper, indeed sacrile-

gious and treasonous, just one among their many social and religious taboos.
They forbade soldiers and commanders dressed in uniform or carrying weap-
ons from even crossing the pomerium into the city. So, the Campus Martius,
designated as a sort of military zone, could not really be part of the city.
The city of Rome proper was characterized by tremendous, and crowded,
urban development from the fourth century BCE onward, whereas the space
of the Campus had to be kept as open as possible, a matter of simple practi-
cality, for military exercises, drills, parades, and for those activities of physi-
cal fitness, such as ballgames, wrestling, running, riding, javelin throwing,
and so on, that began as a part of military training and evolved into recre-
ation. Few buildings could be permitted to interfere with all this.
The Romans did early on erect an altar in the heart of the Campus in
honor of Mars, but they still kept plenty of space available for the horse and
chariot races they dedicated to him from at least the fifth century BCE, most
famously on October 15, when a racing horse was sacrificed to Mars each
year. They built the relatively small structure known as the Villa Publica in
the southern Campus Martius as the headquarters for the officials called
censors, who utilized the open field every five years as a place for conducting
the census of the Roman population. Until Caesar created the Saepta Iulia, a
large area surrounded by colonnades, the Romans simply made use of mov-
able fences to mark off a section in the center of the Campus Martius, sepa-
rate from other goings-on, where they would gather formally in their role
as voters to listen together to the announcements of public officials and to
cast their ballots in the Centuriate Assembly and the Tribal Assembly. Again,
lots of open space, not to be found in downtown Rome, was a must for all
these activities, making the Campus Martius an essential and bustling place.
Yet, in some sections of the Campus, especially in the southern zone, the
Romans of the Republic eventually erected lots of shrines and monuments
to celebrate victories and express gratitude for these to the gods of Rome.
For instance, they built the Temple of Bellona, the war goddess, there in
the 290s BCE; from then on, senators met returning generals in the temple
and the priests of Rome called fetiales made declarations of war from there.
The space extending westward from the temple along one stretch of the
Tiber River was marked out as the Circus Flaminius in the late third cen-
tury BCE and became a key venue for political rallies (contiones), horse and
chariot races, the festival of the ludi Plebeii (each November), and especially
a focal point for triumphal display, soon filled with victory statues and sur-
rounded by sacred precincts enclosing temples to gods such as Hercules,
Neptune, Juno, and Jupiter (indeed the first marble-faced temple in Rome
was constructed there in honor of Jupiter). Slightly to the north of the Cir-
cus were still more temples, such as those known today collectively as the
Area Sacra of Largo Argentina, and to the west of this, in Caesar’s time,
138
Capitoline Hill
Pompey added the temple to Venus Victrix (“Bringer of Victory”) to top

off his magnificent theater complex.
Perhaps as early as the third century BCE, some Romans were also using
the Campus Martius, mainly the northern zone presumably, as a place to
cremate their dead, which was not permitted inside the pomerium; they
would put up temporary funeral pyres or ustrinae for the purpose. By the
first century BCE, important Roman military figures, like the dictator Sulla,
were honored with fantastic funeral ceremonies on the Campus and, in fact,
were buried in tombs there as well. This could apply to members of their
families, too, such as Caesar’s daughter, Julia, whose tomb was erected on
the Field of Mars at the wishes of a sorrowful Roman populace; Caesar
himself was supposed to be cremated and buried in that area also, though
events took things in a very different direction.
By Caesar’s day, then, the Campus Martius had changed quite a bit in
appearance, probably transforming more dramatically than any other part
of Rome. It had gone from a place where Rome’s troops prepared them-
selves for combat to a place where the Roman Senate and People honored
their military heroes; indeed, some of those heroes honored themselves in
the Campus Martius, as Caesar did when he staged tremendously elaborate
victory games there in 46 BCE. His successors, the emperors, would further
enhance the Campus Martius over the coming generations as their special
showplace, eventually fully integrated with the urban heart of Rome.
See also: Census; Cremation; Festivals; Forum Romanum; Games; Mourn-
ing/Funerals; Popular Assemblies; Religion, Roman; Theater of Pompey;
Triumphs/Trophies
Further Reading
Dudley, D. R. 1967. Urbs Roma. London: Phaidon Press.
Books.
Stambaugh, J. E. 1988. The Ancient Roman City. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity Press.
Capitoline Hill
The ancestors of the Romans settled in an area along the Tiber River domi-
nated by hills, upon which they could find refuge and from which they
could keep an eye on the surrounding territory. Over time, the Romans
139
Capitoline Hill
The Capitoline Hill as seen from the Roman Forum. Located between the Forum and
the Campus Martius, the Capitoline is one of the Seven Hills of Rome. It served as
the sacred place of Rome’s highest deities, Jupiter and Juno, and as the fortress of the
Roman People, overlooking the strategic Tiber River. (Mariusz Jurgielewicz/
Dreamstime.com)
came to regard seven of these hills as comprising their city: the Quirinal,
Viminal, Esquiline, Caelian, Aventine, Palatine, and Capitoline. Though it
was upon the Palatine that Rome’s ancestors developed their earliest com-
munity, it was the Capitoline or Capitol Hill that became the most revered
among the Romans and truly central in their history.
The Capitoline is the furthest west of the Seven Hills of Rome, closest to
the Tiber River (essential to the Romans for trade and commerce) and to
the island in the Tiber that was used in ancient times as the most convenient
point for crossing that river. Despite the fact that it has the lowest eleva-
tion (approximately 150 feet today) of the Seven Hills, from the top of the
Capitol, the ancients had an unobstructed view, not only of the goings-on
along the Tiber but also across the wide fields of the Campus Martius to
the west and north, along the semicircular arc of the other hills to the east
and southeast, and down into the valley of the Roman Forum, hemmed in
by the Palatine and the Esquiline, and by the Capitoline itself.
Not surprisingly, then, the Romans regarded the Capitol Hill as the best
location for a strategic lookout post and fortress of refuge. In Latin, the
word for this was arx; the Romans specifically referred to the northern crest
of the hill as the arx, but the term, in reality, applied to the entire Capito-
line, which was enclosed all along the top edge by a high stone wall.
140
Capitoline Hill
In addition, Romans came to regard this hill as a very sacred place, spe-
cial to their highest god, Jupiter, and to his consort, Juno. As early as the
sixth century BCE, the Etruscans, a powerful population based in Etruria
(modern Tuscany), who at that time dominated Rome, began the construc-
tion of a massive temple (approximately 170 feet by 200 feet at the base)
in honor of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva (whom they called Tinia, Uni, and
Menrva) on the southern crest (called the Capitolium) of the Capitoline;
the Romans completed its construction and dedicated it especially to Jupi-
ter Optimus Maximus, that is, Jupiter Best and Greatest, though they con-
tinued to worship Juno and Minerva in the temple as well. On the northern
crest of the hill, they eventually built a much smaller temple especially for
Juno as the Warner (“Moneta”), fitting divine protector for the citadel of
Rome; in fact, in the precinct of that temple, the priests maintained geese
considered sacred to Juno, who, according to tradition, warned the Ro-
mans of danger with their honking.
Over the generations, the look of the Capitoline underwent many
changes. More small temples and shrines to the gods were added wher-
ever they could be fit, as were statues and trophies commemorating Roman
military heroes. Romans took pride in the fact that none of this monumen-
tal architecture or sculpture ever fell into enemy hands, but it did perhaps
suffer at the hands of the Romans themselves. In the summer of 83 BCE,
during the Civil War that raged between supporters of Sulla and Cinna, a
fire ravaged the Capitoline Hill, burning the Temple of Jupiter Optimus
Maximus to the ground; how the fire started is a mystery, though the an-
cients seem to have regarded it as an omen of doom. In the aftermath of
the Civil War, under Sulla’s dictatorship, reconstruction work began, to be
completed and dedicated finally in 69 BCE by senator Q. Lutatius Catulus
the Younger, one of Sulla’s close associates. Jupiter’s temple was redesigned
with more Greek architectural and artistic elements (e.g., the colossal gold
and ivory statue of Jupiter inside), and, in the gulley that separated the two
crests of the Capitoline Hill, Catulus jammed in a section of his new public
records building, the Tabularium, in 78 BCE.
The modern layout of the Capitoline Hill (Campidoglio in today’s Italian),
the oval piazza flanked by the Capitoline Museums (the Palazzo dei Conser-
vatori on the site of the ancient Temple of Jupiter and the Palazzo Nuovo),
with the Church of S. Maria in Aracoeli behind (on the site of the ancient
Temple of Juno Moneta) and the Palazzo Senatorio (atop the old Tabular-
ium) in front, gives today’s visitor a false sense of an ancient Roman’s experi-
ence there. There was no central plaza as today, but instead a jumble of sacred
spaces, and no obstruction of one’s view of the Roman Forum; the Temple of
Jupiter, indeed, faced the Forum. A Roman would have come up to the top
of the hill not from the west, as is most common today, but from the east, by
way of the Clivus Capitolinus, a sloped street that began in the Forum.
141
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE)
This ancient layout reminds us that the Capitol had not just spiritual sig-
nificance but also political purpose. From the early days of the Republic,
and certainly in Caesar’s time, newly elected consuls climbed the hill, es-
corted by members of the Senate, to the auguraculum, a special location
where they were officially inaugurated (i.e., where the priests known as au-
gurs read the omens to confirm that the gods regarded the consuls with
favor); the consuls also swore an oath on behalf of the entire community to
the triad of gods worshipped inside the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maxi-
mus. Also inside that temple, the Roman Senate held its first meeting at the
beginning of each year. Triumphal generals paraded up the Clivus Capito-
linus, as Caesar did, to sacrifice prized bulls to Jupiter and dedicate their
victories to his aid; this was how the hill gradually came to have all those
monuments mentioned earlier. Officials maintained copies of treaties with
foreign peoples in the various precincts of the Capitoline Hill, since Jupiter
and sometimes Juno, in their various manifestations, protected such agree-
ments. Finally, Roman politicians frequently attracted crowds of listeners to
the open space in front of Jupiter’s temple with their rousing speeches, such
as Brutus and Cassius did after they assassinated Caesar.
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Campus Martius; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE);
Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Con-
spiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Forum Romanum; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Religion, Roman; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Books.
versity Press.

A story circulated about C. Cassius Longinus: as a boy, when Faustus, son
of the late dictator Sulla, attempted to lord it over other children of the
aristocracy, Cassius beat him up as punishment and did not hide his ac-
tions, even from Roman officials. Whether this story is a later invention or
solid piece of oral history, it conforms to the violent temper and political
142
John Gielgud as Cassius (left) and James Mason as Brutus in the 1953 film Julius
Caesar. (John Springer Collection/Corbis)
attitudes illustrated of Cassius by other pieces of evidence. Intolerant of

any Roman behaving in a high-handed, domineering fashion toward fel-
low citizens, Cassius could not accept the rise of one-man rule in the per-
son of Julius Caesar and chiefly fomented the plot that brought an end to
Caesar’s life.
Like his famous comrade Brutus, little is recorded about the early life of
Cassius. He first came to prominence in the annals of the Republic during
the war against Parthia launched by M. Licinius Crassus. Serving as pro-
quaestor or chief lieutenant to the general, he agreed with other officers
that the Roman forces were, in fact, unprepared for the campaign, espe-
cially thanks to faulty intelligence regarding the strengths of the Parthian
cavalry. On more than one occasion, Cassius spoke out, quite boldly, in op-
position to his commander’s plans (these influenced by false allies), reveal-
ing a gifted insight into the best methods for the protection and the success
of the Roman forces.
Unheeded in his warnings, nonetheless, his ideas proved useful once
Crassus discovered the terrible situation into which he had led his men;
he relied on his own son and on Cassius as his chief supports in the disas-
trous battle that followed, the Battle of Carrhae (53 BCE). In its aftermath,
143
with Crassus and his son both dead, it was Cassius who primarily saw to
the survival of the remaining forces and attempted to negotiate with the
enemy for the extrication of the Romans from Parthian territory. When
this proved impossible by diplomatic means, the Roman army, in sepa-
rate units, found whatever ways it could to escape total destruction; few
made it back to the Roman province of Syria, and Cassius was one of
them. He took it upon himself to secure the province of Syria from fall-
ing into enemy hands. Fortunately, the Parthians followed up their victory
too slowly, and over the next two years, as they finally attempted to invade
the province, Cassius, then governor, repeatedly prevented them from
doing so.
In Roman society, then, Cassius was seen as a military hero, the perfect
sort of person to have on one’s side against a threatening general, as Julius
Caesar was perceived to be by his political opponents. In the Civil War that
ensued between Caesar and Pompey, Cassius backed the latter, while his
younger brother, Lucius, and his cousin, Quintus, backed the former; un-
fortunately, our sources tell us nothing about the effect these decisions had
on their family relations or what influence family issues may have played in
their respective decisions. Pompey dispatched Cassius back to Syria, where,
naturally, he had forged many contacts in recent years, to gather a fleet of
warships. He later employed these in the spring and summer of 48 BCE
against Caesar’s navy stationed off the island of Sicily. Having destroyed
half the enemy ships by fire, engagement with the rest proved not so suc-
cessful, and Cassius almost fell into enemy hands himself. Eventually, word
reached him of the defeat of Pompey in the Battle of Pharsalus and he led
his remaining ships out of the area, probably to help Pompey in regroup-
ing. The details of what happened next are obscure. Apparently, Cassius did
not manage to link up with Pompey and may, in fact, have run into Caesar
instead.
According to a later exchange of letters between himself and Cicero, Cas-
sius agreed with the latter that further fighting after Pharsalus was pointless;
just as Cicero asked Caesar’s pardon and returned to Italy, Cassius allowed
M. Junius Brutus to intercede on his behalf with Caesar. Cassius and Bru-
tus did not have a friendly relationship, despite the fact that the former was
married to the latter’s youngest sister, Junia Tertia. The cause or causes of
their disagreements are unclear. Perhaps it was for Tertia’s sake that her
brother worked to gain a pardon for Cassius.
Caesar took advantage of the tension between Cassius and Brutus by
pitting the two against each other in the race to be appointed praetor
of Rome, praetor urbanus, the usual second-in-command to the consuls
(who were Caesar himself and Marc Antony). As the most powerful man
in Rome, Caesar could tip the balance toward one or the other at will. He
fully recognized that Cassius had the superior qualifications for the office,
144
especially in terms of military ability and achievements, but he passed him

over in favor of Brutus (whether for reasons of personal affection or politi-
cal strategizing is unclear). Cassius, instead, received the post of praetor per-
egrinus, magistrate charged with protecting foreign residents and visitors to
Rome; he resented this, and surely the whole affair played into his growing
hatred of Caesar.
Simply from the perspective of personal self-worth (dignitas in Latin),
a thing crucial to Roman aristocrats, Caesar had deeply insulted Cassius
by not allowing free play to the competition for office and the victory of
the best man for the job (himself, of course). Moreover, despite the as-
sertions of later authors who idealized Brutus at the expense of Cassius,
the latter, also, seemed to have thought very much like generations of
Romans before him, disapproving of undue influence in the processes of
elections or appointments. In his personal correspondence, Cassius may
have described Caesar as “the devil you know,” but he still regarded him as
a devil.
Cassius wanted to take Caesar on, to take him out of the political picture,
in fact, but he realized that to do so without the support of a senator like
Brutus, whose reputation stood so high in the eyes of others and who him-
self stood so close to Caesar, could lead to failure. In fact, when he sounded
out other disgruntled senators to see if they were willing to eliminate Cae-
sar through assassination, many of them indicated that they were willing,
provided that Brutus participated as well. Cassius then determined to heal
the breach between himself and his brother-in-law, paying a visit to the lat-
ter’s home (an important gesture of Roman etiquette and honor). Dur-
ing their conversation, Cassius insisted that the many anonymous messages
Brutus had been receiving over the previous days, urging him to save the
Republic from Caesar’s tyranny, had come from prominent people afraid
for their lives and looking to Brutus for rescue. Once it became clear to him
that Brutus was prepared to risk his life against Caesar, Cassius took Brutus
into his confidence, letting him know that a plot was in the works and that
many wanted Brutus to be a leading part of it. Cassius had effectively de-
tached Brutus from Caesar.
Having brought together more participants for their conspiracy, Cassius
and Brutus chose to take action on the Ides (fifteenth) of March 44 BCE
during a session of the Senate. Most of their co-conspirators met that morn-
ing at the house of Cassius, using his son’s coming-of-age ceremony (the
toga virilis) as a cover. Later, as they waited outside the Curia of Pompey
for Caesar to arrive, one incident after another exacerbated their nervous-
ness, Cassius all the while clutching his concealed dagger, ready to strike or
to kill himself if need be. Once inside and positioned for the assassination,
he did something very uncharacteristic; despite having little faith left in the
gods or the protecting spirits of the ancestors, Cassius nonetheless prayed
145
to the statue of Pompey, as though asking his spirit for courage and assis-
tance in their enterprise.
In the aftermath of the assassination, Cassius, the mastermind, took a
back seat to Brutus, the symbolic figurehead and “restorer of freedom” to
the Republic; even when Brutus consented to the public reading of Cae-
sar’s will and the latter’s burial with state honors, Cassius acquiesced (after
some vehement opposition). Neither of them expected the tricky maneu-
vers of Marc Antony, who quickly employed popular hostility at the murder
of Caesar to push the so-called Liberators out of town and into insignificant
provincial assignments, while at the same time blackening their reputations
as killers of Rome’s “Father and Benefactor.” A number of senators came
to their defense and attempted to undermine Antony, especially the famous
orator Cicero; he continued to maintain close contact with Cassius and his
comrades through letters. In them, he expressed his belief that only vio-
lence could stop Antony, the latest “tyrant,” and that the Republic’s very
survival depended on Cassius.
As expected, Cassius had begun to establish a powerbase in the east-
ern provinces of the empire, amassing wealth, supplies, and manpower;
more surprising, Brutus separately did the same, and both utilized what-
ever means necessary to get what they wanted, often treating the provincial
populations in the same high-handed manner as the two men had accused
Caesar of doing toward the Romans. When Cassius seized the strategic
Greek island of Rhodes, for instance, he insisted that he was neither “lord
nor king” over its people, yet he employed unjust cruelty against them
nonetheless; he also confiscated every ounce of gold and silver from every
Rhodian and levied a fine on the island as a whole.
During the first half of 43 BCE, the operations of Cassius and Brutus en-
joyed the almost-unanimous support of the Senate, but by the fall of that
year, Caesar’s heir, Octavian, had joined forces with Antony and Lepidus,
another of Caesar’s lieutenants, and not only had they seized control of
Rome, but they also had declared a war of vengeance against the Conspira-
tors. Cassius brought his forces to join those of Brutus in the province of
Asia (today’s western Turkey). The final showdown approached, by which
they would discover whether their murder of Caesar had truly been the act
to save the Republic or to condemn it to end.
Meanwhile, Antony and Octavian arrived in northern Greece with their
combined army; an advanced force from this failed in its mission to stop
Cassius and Brutus from making their way overland into the same territory.
The two sides faced one another on the plains of Philippi. Cassius opposed
challenging their enemies in a single engagement, since he recognized that
his side possessed advantages that would allow them to drag out the con-
flict to the detriment of the other side. Unfortunately, he found himself
once again, as in the days of Crassus, outvoted in the council of war; most
146
of the officers agreed with Brutus in his enthusiasm to deal the enemy a
knockout blow.
Unlike in the past, though, Cassius seems to have fallen into a deep de-
pression and struggled to muster the resignation to see things through.
This showed in the conduct of the ensuing battle. Again deferring to
Brutus, Cassius agreed that the latter should command the strongest por-
tion of the army. The battle in that sector was hard-fought but ended in
success, whereas in Cassius’s sector, he commanded with so much slow-
ness and hesitation that enemy forces had the chance to surround his
men and cut them off from assistance. His cavalry escaped to the sea;
his infantry buckled, requiring Cassius himself to steady them by grab-
bing hold of a battle-standard and defending it himself before their eyes.
Nothing worked, as his forces fled or fell and he lost his camp to the
enemy.
Believing that the enemy cavalry were in pursuit of him, Cassius com-
mitted suicide with the aid of a servant; ironically, the horsemen had ac-
tually come from Brutus to bring help to Cassius. Brutus soon arrived to
mourn over his comrade, who had chosen beheading as his method of es-
cape from a troubled Roman world. To spare the army the sight of a funeral
and its potentially demoralizing effects, he had Cassius’s remains sent to the
nearby island of Thasos for the proper ceremonies.
In the mythologizing of these events that took place after the victory of
Antony and Octavian, and especially after the rise of Octavian as the first
Emperor Augustus, Cassius fell into the shadow of Brutus. Whether por-
trayed as hot-headed or violent, greedy or ruthless, Cassius was always made
to appear stumbling in a moral sense in comparison to the ever-virtuous
Brutus. The latter became the great hero of those who opposed one-man
rule in Rome under the emperors, while Cassius became his impetuous and
impulsive sidekick, always needing to be reined in. Such portrayals reversed
the roles of Cassius and Brutus and exaggerated their personal qualities in
one way or another. This was more flattering, of course, than the official
verdict upon them, that of Augustus (and other emperors later), who sim-
ply recorded them as the “murderers of his father” and enemies of the Re-
public, without even giving their names.
Historical reality, in other words, took a back seat to propaganda gen-
erated either by the establishment or the resistance to that establishment.
In the process, Brutus’s commemoration of Cassius as “the last of all the
Romans” got lost, even though it may be the best encapsulation of who he
was and why he did what he did: sharing imperfections of character with
Roman leaders across the generations, Cassius nonetheless, like them, ide-
alized the social and political traditions of their Republic and personally
disliked any power-hungry individuals (like Caesar) who sought to trample
those traditions.
147
Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE)
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE);
Capitoline Hill; Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna the
Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE); Clothing; Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE);
Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Dignitas; Ides of March; Lepidus the Elder
(d. 77 BCE); Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Libertas/Dominatio; Opti-
mates; Parthia; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Servilia
(d. ca. 42 BCE); Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE); Suicide
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Dryden, J., and A. H. Clough. 2001. Plutarch’s Lives. New York: Modern Li-
brary.
Marshall, B. A. 1976. Crassus. Amsterdam: Adolf Hakkert.
lishing.
Publishing.
Sharples, R. W. 1996. Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics. London: Routledge.
Ward, A. M. 1977. Crassus and the Late Roman Republic. Columbia: University of
Missouri Press.

L. Sergius Catilina or Catiline, a contemporary of Julius Caesar, was a
prominent but disruptive member of the Roman Senate. His primary polit-
ical adversary, the consul M. Tullius Cicero, delivered four singularly hostile
speeches against him (In Catilinam), today our main sources of knowledge
about the man and his activities. Almost twenty years after Catiline’s death,
the historian Sallust wrote his account of Catiline’s conspiracy against the
Republic (Coniuratio Catilinae or Bellum Catilinae); he also largely disap-
proved of Catiline as excessively violent in the pursuit of personal power,
the epitome of all that was wrong with Roman high society. It can certainly
be said that Catiline’s ambitions precipitated a political and social crisis that
ended in his own demise and further defined the lines of battle among the
competing members of the Roman elite.
148
Cicero Denounces Catiline by Cesare Maccari (1840–1919), Palazzo Madama, Rome.

This fresco, located in the Italian Senate House of modern Rome, shows Catiline in
the foreground, deserted by the other senators, as Cicero, standing to the left, lays
charges against him. (Universal History Archive/Getty Images)
Catiline came from an old, but weak patrician family. As one of General
Sulla’s minions, he had made money and a reputation for ruthlessness in the
Civil War conducted by Sulla against his political opponents (84–82 BCE).
Later, Catiline held a praetorship, and then the propraetorship of Africa.
In 66 BCE, the Senate indicted him for provincial misgovernment, but,
nevertheless, he brashly stood in the consular elections of that year; the
presiding magistrate rejected his candidacy. Rumors circulated that he plot-
ted an overthrow of the Republic at that time but abandoned the enter-
prise for some reason. He was not acquitted of the indictment charge until
65 BCE, which prevented him again from running in the consular elections of
that year.
In 64 BCE, Catiline again presented himself as candidate for the con-
sulship. His chief competitors were C. Antonius Hybrida (a friend of his,
uncle of the later famous Marc Antony) and M. Tullius Cicero. Having
served in public office before, Cicero had catapulted into prominence
thanks to his oratorical abilities and successes in the Roman courts, as well
as his cultivation of powerful aristocrats, especially Pompey, to whom he
hitched his wagon. On the other side, the wealthy M. Licinius Crassus
and his young associate Julius Caesar likely supported Antonius Hybrida
and Catiline. Many senators and voters wanted to stop Catiline, however,
149
suspecting him of revolutionary schemes, and so backed Cicero. Pompey’s

clients also did so. Catiline lost; Cicero and Antonius Hybrida became
consuls in 63 BCE.
Catiline was infuriated that Cicero, a new man, a man without long sen-
atorial pedigree, should have defeated him, a patrician of ancient lineage,
for the highest office in the land. He sought to create a new following that
would help him overthrow the senatorial aristocracy, or at least its current
establishment, that was standing in the way of his rightful ambitions.
Many people throughout Italy had lost their homes, farms, and savings
as a consequence of the proscriptions and confiscations carried out by Ca-
tiline’s boss, Sulla, in the Civil War noted earlier; even many of Sulla’s for-
mer troops and associates had squandered what they had received from
him. The dispossessed and discontented flocked to Rome, and the already
clogged urban environment got worse, and the political assemblies and de-
bates focused around how to deal with these destitute, volatile men and
women. Catiline appealed to these masses of men as the champion of the
“have-nots” in a conflict with the “haves.”
In the fall of 63 BCE, at the time the consular elections were held, Catiline
again presented himself as a candidate, having spent most of the year ral-
lying support, not only from the masses but also from fellow senators who
thought, as he did, that a “regime-change” was called for. In this, he had
broken with his old ally, Crassus, who, with his commercial connections
and interests, naturally, could not support Catiline’s new plans. Neverthe-
less, many implicated Crassus in the schemes because of his old links to Ca-
tiline; he retaliated by calling in his loans to senators, which quickly shut
up many of his detractors. Julius Caesar was also implicated by his political
enemies because of his ties to Catiline (in fact, afterward, a top informant
alleged that Caesar played a direct role in the scheme); his response would
be far more open and public, as we will see.
Other senators, like Cicero, knew that Catiline would resort to violent
means if elected and strongly opposed him. The unity of this powerful coali-
tion defeated Catiline, but his defeat only induced him to conspire against the
state. He arranged for an associate, C. Manlius, to raise forces from among
Sulla’s discontented veterans and bring this army secretly to Rome; other
agents were sent to strategic points throughout Italy to stir up problems;
meanwhile, Catiline himself would raise men among the urban plebs and the
bankrupt nobles and open the city gates to the army at the right moment.
Cicero proved himself under these circumstances. Fully suspicious of Ca-
tiline, he had him watched by spies who collected information on the plot
and brought this to the attention of the Senate. That body passed a senatus
consultum ultimum (SCU), an emergency decree, on October 21, 63 BCE.
There was not sufficient evidence against Catiline or anyone else to make
arrests, so the decree was worded in the broadest way, casting a wide net
150
over any suspect activities anywhere in Italy. With senatorial approval, Ci-
cero took further precautions by sending various magistrates to secure par-
ticular parts of Italy and to raise troops, offering rewards to informants, and
assigning lower magistrates and equestrian citizens to guard duty in Rome.
Catiline’s chief accomplice, Manlius, began to move his troops closer to
Rome in late October, but the Senate still delayed in acting against Catiline.
On November 6, news reached Cicero that the conspirators were holding
further gatherings among themselves, and on November 7, they made an
attempt on Cicero’s life. This failed, but Cicero now had all he needed to
convene the Senate and bring charges against Catiline; the consul did not
delay, but called the Senate together later that very day as well as the next.
Catiline had already been indicted several days earlier for his intimidat-
ing actions at the last few elections, but he had remained in Rome under
his own recognizance and attended the meeting of the Senate. The other
Senators refused to greet him or sit near him, and Cicero at once attacked
him, calling for his execution or, better yet, his voluntary exile, hoping that
Catiline’s other supporters would flock to join him and thus reveal the true
extent of the plot against the state. He painted Catiline as an offense to his
fellows and to his country and argued that all levels of society were opposed
to Catiline.
It is doubtful that a man of Catiline’s personality and character remained
silent through all this, but Cicero records no response in his speech; we
can imagine a vigorous exchange between the two men, however, based on
the historian Sallust’s version of events, which conveys the pressured vehe-
mence of Catiline’s self-defense before he stormed out and sped his way to
Manlius in Etruria. The Senate, sufficiently convinced of his guilt, declared
him and Manlius hostes, public enemies, but offered amnesty to other ac-
complices should they surrender in timely fashion, and sent Cicero’s col-
league, Antonius Hybrida, with consular forces against the rebel army.
On November 9, Cicero called an informal gathering of the Roman vot-
ers, known as a contio, in the Roman Forum, where he delivered his second
speech against Catiline. In it, we see Cicero as very proud of his accom-
plishments thus far, critical of the stupidity or evil of those who still backed
Catiline, and claiming to follow the people’s will and protect their interests
at great personal risk. He placed great emphasis on the fact that he knew
so much about the plot and plotters. He urged the accomplices of Catiline
to go into voluntary exile, but he also expressed his willingness to reconcile
with them, whether debtors, men of ambition, veteran colonists, peasants,
criminals, or even debauchees. In describing his opponents in these terms,
Cicero hoped to persuade the people in general of the superiority, in princi-
ple and in human and other resources, of his side. He also wanted to assure
the People of Rome of the precautions that had been taken against anarchy
and of the mercy that he wanted to show to his enemies.
151
The other conspirators at large were determined to burn down Rome

and to kill the consuls and other important magistrates on December 17,
the first day of the Saturnalia festival. But Cicero found out about this
plan through informants, and a number of incriminating letters fell into his
hands on the night of December 2. On the morning of December 3, Cicero
again convened the Senate, having summoned the unsuspecting ringleaders
of the plot to attend as normal. He presented his evidence and witnesses
to the assembled body and confronted each plotter in turn, three of whom
confessed; five more men were later arrested. Cicero was so elated by his
success that in his third speech, delivered that afternoon to the People in
the Roman Forum, he attributed it to nothing less than divine favor and
unwisely compared himself to the most victorious generals of Rome.
Afterward, instead of relying on the criminal courts, Cicero again
brought the arrestees before the Senate to determine their fate. From Ci-
cero and Sallust, we have different versions of the senatorial debate that
ensued on December 5, probably more heated than either author conveys.
Cicero, even more proud of himself, promised to obey whatever instruc-
tions the Senate issued him, but followed the consul-elect D. Junius Silanus
in seeking the immediate execution of the prisoners. Such a death penalty
without appeal for a Roman citizen violated several Roman laws and ta-
boos; acceptable punishments were fine, confiscation, loss of civic rights, or
voluntary exile. Julius Caesar, praetor-elect, made a name for himself now
by his strange, unprecedented counter proposal: life imprisonment in sepa-
rate towns across Italy; Caesar managed to convince many in the Senate.
But Cicero argued against Caesar’s idea as too lenient, unfair to the towns
that would be responsible for keeping these men under guard, and espe-
cially as an invitation to renewed strife down the road, which he depicted
as a living hell.
From Cicero himself, in his fourth speech on the Catilinarian affair, we
have no recorded resolution to the debate. The historian Sallust attributes
the resolution not to Cicero but to M. Porcius Cato, tribune-elect, who de-
livered a strong speech in support of Cicero, arguing that the evil intentions
alone of the plotters were just as punishable as actions would be. Staunch
and uncompromising, Cato got his way: that very evening, the prisoners
were strangled in the Carcer, the closest thing Rome had to a prison, nor-
mally used for the holding and execution of the defeated leaders of foreign
enemies; this is suggestive of how the senators had come to view the con-
spirators. Even Caesar barely escaped alive, threatened as he was by Cice-
ro’s bodyguard, who would have attacked and killed him if Cicero had not
stopped them; they and others once again suspected Caesar’s clemency as
indicating complicity in the plot.
There was still Catiline and his rebel army to worry about; they were
prevented in early 62 BCE from escaping from Etruria into Cisalpine Gaul.
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Cato (95–46 BCE)
By then, his army had learned of the fate of the other conspirators in Rome
and about two-thirds of his troops deserted. With the remainder, Catiline
found himself boxed in by two Roman armies on the march against him,
from the south and east. Antonius Hybrida, now ranking as proconsul,
overtook Catiline’s army; his very experienced legate, M. Petreius, forced
Catiline to battle near Pistoria. Most of his men fell in that battle, as did
Catiline himself, and very bravely as befitted Romans, according to Sallust.
The consequences of the Catilinarian Conspiracy and its aftermath were
negative for Cicero and the Senate as a whole, but great for Caesar and for
Cato. When the initial afterglow as savior of Rome wore off, Cicero ap-
peared to have been a pompous braggart and butcher of Roman citizens;
he had jumped the gun and ignored constitutional due process. The emer-
gency decree used against Catiline and his accomplices was called into ques-
tion on various legal grounds; Cicero began to be blamed as though he had
acted without sufficient authorization. The Senate as a whole was seen as
unbending and reactionary in the protection of its own economic position
at the expense of other citizens. Cato, a man of principle and character to
be respected by enemies and friends alike, became the standard-bearer of
the Optimates, the traditionalist hardliners of the Senate; Caesar, though
he had to defend his own innocence again and again, was literally protected
from the Senate by a crowd of people, who regarded him as an outstand-
ing champion of popular interests, of the rights of all citizens, especially the
downtrodden, a symbol of moderation, clemency, and fairness.
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Conspiracy of
65 BCE; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Opti-
mates; Patricians; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Senate;
Senatus Consultum Ultimum (SCU)
Further Reading
Grant, M. 1977. Cicero, Selected Political Speeches. New York: Penguin Publishers,
Inc.
Woodman, A. J. 2008. Sallust: Catiline’s War, the Jugurthine War, Histories. New
York: Penguin Publishers, Inc.
Cato (95–46 BCE)

If any one man stood in the way of Julius Caesar’s political ambitions, it
was M. Porcius Cato, also known as Cato the Younger (to distinguish him
from his also famous great-grandfather) or Cato the Stoic (because of his
153
Cato (95–46 BCE)
Bronze bust of Cato the

Younger, first century CE, from
the House of Venus in Volubilis,
Morocco. (Roger Wood/
Corbis)
reputation as a philosopher) or Cato Uticensis (Cato of Utica because he

died in that North African city). Indeed, Cato’s reputation as an opponent
of Caesar was so great that when the orator and statesman, Cicero, pub-
lished an encomium (a speech in praise) of Cato after the latter’s death,
Caesar himself felt compelled to counter it by writing two volumes of his
own Anti-Cato.
Born in 95 BCE (and thus five years younger than Caesar), Cato stood on
the political dividing line of the Late Roman Republic: he was at once the
nephew of the Popularis plebeian tribune M. Livius Drusus the Younger
(who was murdered in 91 BCE in the family home where Cato grew up) and
also later related by marriage to the top Optimate statesman, L. Licinius
Lucullus, and the top Optimate orator, Q. Hortensius Hortalus; his older
half-siblings, the Servilii Caepiones, were also Optimates, though his half-
sister, Servilia, was the lover and friend of Julius Caesar, for some time.
When he served in his first public magistracy, that of quaestor (either in
65 or 64 BCE), Cato early on made a name for himself as a hardworking man
of honesty and efficiency. The board of twenty quaestors acted as Rome’s
treasury department, but many of them were elected to that office with
minimal knowledge or background in state finances; this meant that they
relied on the treasury staff (clerks and accountants, including freedmen
and slaves) to do the real work, which often led to instances of corruption.
Cato, on the other hand, gathered and studied all the information he could
154
Cato (95–46 BCE)
about his new post and took a hands-on approach; he kept the support staff
under supervision and tight control, even bringing wrongdoers to justice.
His colleagues, and even one of the censors of the time, resisted and re-
sented Cato’s strict style, but could not deny the rightness of his motives.
As quaestor, Cato’s Popularis side, if one can call it that, came through.
He earned the trust of the people at large for his efficient and above-board
handling of financial matters, which meant that those who owed money
to the government were made to pay it and those whom the government
owed received their compensation without fail. In addition, people’s admi-
ration for Cato grew when they saw that he did not fear standing up to the
former henchmen of the dictator Sulla; surely, Cato did not go up against
the top senatorial supporters of Sulla, but certain other men who had been
paid by Sulla from state funds to eliminate the latter’s enemies were finally
made to return that money to the treasury and stand trial for murder.
As one of the plebeian tribunes-elect at the end of 63 BCE, when the con-
sul Cicero brought before the Senate the question of what to do with the
co-conspirators of the renegade Catiline, Cato again stood on principle.
The young Cato urged the senators to vote the execution of the prisoners,
arguing that the evil intentions of the men were just as punishable as if the
actions had been committed; he got his way, against the impassioned plea
of Julius Caesar that the men be spared their lives and placed under per-
manent house arrest. From that moment on, the energetic Cato, man of
principle and character respected by enemies and friends alike, became the
rising star, the standard-bearer of the Optimates in the Senate.
Still, the Popularis in Cato emerged again during his term as tribune
when he passed a law (the lex Porcia) through the Plebeian Assembly to
increase (to 200,000) the number of recipients of cheap public grain (a
practice which had been developed by one of the original Populares, C.
Sempronius Gracchus, near the end of the previous century). Cato insisted
to his friends that his motive was to maintain their (Optimate) hold on
the state by reducing public unrest in the wake of the Senate’s destruction
of Catiline and his associates. Yet, just two years later, when he came up
against the extensive bribery of voters by Caesar and his allies, Cato em-
ployed the very same sort of “Popularis” bribery to guarantee his son-in-
law’s election as Caesar’s colleague; this was even more ironic considering
that Cato had publicly railed against electoral bribery in consular elections
and promised to bring anyone guilty of it to a swift trial. Once again, when
he used “Popularis” methods, like bribery, Cato explained it away because,
when used by the Optimates, it was for the good of the state rather than
personal gain.
On top of the world after helping to halt Catiline’s conspiracy, Cato was
in no mood to work with General Pompey, who had returned from cam-
paigns that he had stolen from Lucullus, Cato’s relative by marriage; Cato
155
Cato (95–46 BCE)
had already prevented (by literally standing up against violent opposition

forces and almost losing his life in the process) various politicians, including
especially his own colleague Metellus Nepos and the praetor Caesar, from se-
curing for Pompey a special command to destroy Catiline’s army. Cato also
rejected Pompey’s offer of a marriage alliance between their two families.
So, Cato became the leader of Pompey’s political opponents in their own
campaign, a political campaign of obstructionism to prevent Pompey from
obtaining certain requests from the Senate. Cato insisted, for example, that
every action committed by Pompey while in the field, especially the arrange-
ments made for new provinces and treaty allies in the eastern Mediterranean
and the granting of land to his veterans, had to be examined detail-for-detail
by the Senate before they could be approved; this process would take a great
deal of time and was, in practical terms, unsatisfactory. When another prom-
inent senator, Crassus, appealed to the Senate on behalf of his friends, the
tax-collecting companies in the province of Asia (western Turkey today), to
readjust their tax-collecting contracts because of serious economic troubles
in that region, the staunch, uncompromising Cato led the Optimates of the
Senate to insist that the publicani could not be granted such special favors.
By sticking to the letter of the law in this way, Cato insulted Pompey and
Crassus, and deeply offended many others in Roman society who were con-
nected with them or could foresee in the future similar bad treatment of
themselves by the Senate. Even many senators regarded Cato in these debates
as much more motivated by a love of heated argument than by his much-
flaunted integrity, and Cicero confided in letters to his best friend, Atticus,
that Cato was too unrealistic and stubborn to lead a successful political life.
As for Caesar, Cato had been at odds with him at least since the debate
on the Catilinarians, so it was no trouble at all to again lead the rest of the
Senate in obstructing action when Caesar requested special permission to
stand for the consulship and hold a military triumph (for his victories in
Spain) at the same time; Cato employed his favored tactic of filibustering,
as it is called today, so that the Senate could never really address Caesar’s
request. When Caesar chose to forego his triumph and stand for the con-
sulship, so too did Cato’s son-in-law, M. Calpurnius Bibulus; when Caesar
bribed the voters to win, so too did Bibulus, and this was mainly Cato’s
doing, as noted above. He and his associates, especially his brother-in-law,
L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, from then on attempted to block Caesar’s ef-
forts in every chance they got, even when attacked in the Roman Forum
by angry mobs of Caesar’s supporters or dragged down from the speaker’s
platform and arrested by Caesar himself.
Caesar’s leverage at that time came from the fact that he had joined
Pompey and Crassus together in a political and financial coalition that we
call the First Triumvirate; Cato rose to the top of the Triumvirs’ hit list.
They employed the plebeian tribune, P. Clodius Pulcher, to do the dirty
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Cato (95–46 BCE)
work. In the Plebeian Assembly, he proposed sending a special ambassador

to Cyprus in the eastern Mediterranean to do the hard work of integrating
that island administratively as a Roman province; he accused Cyprus’s king,
Ptolemy, basically of mismanaging his realm, thereby allowing anarchy and
piracy to flourish, threatening the entire region. Since the king’s predeces-
sor, his cousin, Ptolemy XI of Egypt and Cyprus, had placed himself and all
his territories under the protection of the Senate and People of Rome, Clo-
dius could argue that Rome had the final authority over Ptolemy’s position.
In truth, Clodius wanted access to the rich treasures of the king to pay for
projects at home. Regardless of motive, Clodius insisted that Cato was the
best and only man for the job of cleaning up and annexing Cyprus, and
the latter dutifully, though reluctantly, submitted, knowing full well that
the real purpose of this mission was to get him out of Caesar’s way.
Cato returned from Cyprus in early 56 BCE, having completed all tasks
most scrupulously; the Triumvirs prevented him, however, from gaining a
praetorship, thanks to bribes to voters handsomely spread around by Cae-
sar’s henchman Vatinius, who became praetor instead. Cato then resisted
the plebeian tribune Trebonius who worked to get the Triumvirs extraordi-
nary provincial powers; attempting again a sort of filibuster, this time in the
Plebeian Assembly, Cato suffered forcible removal and arrest.
Cato won the praetorship of 54 BCE but continued to face the opposi-
tion of the Triumvirs, now especially of Pompey, and especially because of
his efforts to curb electoral bribery; the Optimates backed him in the Sen-
ate so that officials were required to come before Cato and report on their
campaign financing. In this regard, he also persuaded candidates to put up
large sums of money as security against engaging in bribery; if one of them
did so, the others would receive the security deposit. Again, Cato enhanced
his reputation for political integrity while also making enemies of those who
felt constricted by the new rules.
By this time, gang violence, on behalf of ambitious politicians, had be-
come rampant in the city; people widely believed that an extraordinary so-
lution was needed—someone would have to get things in hand. Finally, in
52 BCE, Cato agreed with other senators that this man should be Pompey
and that he should be appointed sole consul with emergency powers; Cato
did this reluctantly, regarding Pompey as at best a necessary evil. He also
freely, both privately and publicly, gave Pompey his advice and his criticism,
reminding the latter that his special position made him protector of the Re-
public and not lord over it.
Of all the threats to the Republic, Cato had, for some time, come to see
Caesar as the greatest; the latter’s exploits in Gaul had made him even more
powerful and wealthier. Since Pompey could not be persuaded to stand up
against Caesar, Cato himself would do so; he ran for the consulship in 51 BCE
to use the powers of that position for this purpose. Though his campaign
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Cato (95–46 BCE)
failed, Cato still led the Optimates of the Senate in agitating for Caesar’s re-
call from Gaul; the wars there (which Cato blamed Caesar for instigating in
the first place) were over, and Caesar had no further reason for staying there
except to protect himself from his political enemies or to prepare to destroy
them. Cato argued in this way consistently, especially against the agents of
Caesar, until the Optimates pushed the Senate into declaring Caesar a public
enemy in 49 BCE, emboldening Pompey to stand against him, too.
The ensuing Civil War saw Cato serve Pompey’s cause in Sicily, in the
province of Asia (western Turkey), and at Dyrrachium in western Greece. In
all this, he never missed an opportunity of trying to protect civilian popu-
lations and Roman soldiers; while other advisors to Pompey urged an ag-
gressive posture and total destruction of “the enemy,” Cato encouraged a
defensive strategy, moderation, and humaneness, wishing still to save the
Republic. After the murder of Pompey in Egypt in 48 BCE, the surviving Op-
timate leaders, Cato foremost among them, used Roman territory in North
Africa as their base of operations; they had some time to regroup until Cae-
sar’s arrival there late in the following year. After their defeat in the Battle of
Thapsus (46 BCE), however, Cato gave up all hope of stopping Caesar.
ANTI-CATO
About the time of his victory in the Battle of Munda (i.e., spring
45 BCE) against the sons of Pompey, Julius Caesar authored and pub-
lished a sort of political pamphlet, not unlike those common at the
time, in which he vehemently attacked the memory of M. Porcius
Cato, his staunchest political adversary. In two volumes, this work was
titled by him Anti-Cato in contrast to the several works titled Cato
written and published by the famous orator M. Tullius Cicero and
Cato’s own son-in-law, M. Junius Brutus (future assassin of Caesar),
as well as others.
The figure of Cato, who had committed suicide to avoid capture
by Caesar a year earlier, had quickly become a symbol of philosophical
virtue and political morality, a symbol cast in the teeth of Caesar him-
self. The more political authors like Cicero and Brutus praised Cato
to the skies, the more they annoyed Caesar who felt the need to cast
aspersions on his deceased opponent in an effort to justify his own
actions against the state. He left all of his famous mercifulness behind
to engage in scathingly angry attack against Cato, raking up every
negative item he could possibly think of, including character defects
as he saw them. We possess only a few fragments of this work.
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Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE)
At the town of Utica, which Cato commanded, he soon committed sui-

cide to avoid reconciling with the “tyrant” Caesar. Others followed his
example and started a trend that continued through the period of Roman
Emperors; those senators who wished to stand up to Imperial power, cor-
ruption, tyranny, and could not do so politically or militarily, opted out of
the game through taking their own lives, solidifying that act as an honor-
able way for noble Romans to die. No wonder the poet Lucan, in the late
first century CE, wrote that the gods may have favored the victor (Caesar)
in the Civil War, but Cato favored the vanquished. While he lived, Cato’s
reputation grew to larger-than-life proportions; after death, he was elevated
to nearly divine status. Ironically, nothing could have linked Cato to Caesar
more than this.
See also: Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Domitius
Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Elections; Gangs; Lucan’s Pharsalia; Magistrates/
Cursus Honorum; Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Proscrip-
tions; Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE); Senate; Taxation/Tax Farming;
Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE); Trebonius (d. 43 BCE); Triumvirate; Utica;
Vatinius
Further Reading
Murell, J. 1984. Plutarch, Cato the Younger. London: London Association of Clas-
sical Teachers.

The first century BCE witnessed the literary career of C. Valerius Catul-
lus, perhaps the Republic’s greatest poet. A well-educated, wealthy socialite
from the northern Italian town of Verona, Catullus, after moving to “the
big city” (i.e., Rome), belonged to a set of young poets whom, Cicero, the
famous orator and statesman of the time, dubbed the Neoterics, meaning
“youthful ones,” or poetae novae, the “new poets.” Catullus’s writings drew
the attention of Julius Caesar, an amateur poet himself, and drew attention
toward Caesar in a number of negative ways.
The Romans had developed little in terms of poetry of their own before
the second century BCE. They did compose crude verses and songs for wed-
dings, triumphal celebrations, and other special occasions. Yet, they did
not even possess a word in their native language to render the occupation
of poet, instead simply incorporating the term “poeta” into Latin straight
159
from their Greek subjects. Indeed, Greek cultural influence precipitated an

explosion of Roman verse, among other forms of literature, ranging from
epic verse or epic poetry, which had as its subject serious stories about great
men, heroes, and/or divine beings, to lyric verse or lyric poetry, which had
as its subject various experiences or rituals of everyday life.
As was only to be expected in a culture such as the Romans’, epic poetry
took a stronger hold at first; it appealed to deep-seated Roman sensibilities
and societal priorities. By the early second century BCE, however, the in-
creasing popularity of Greek comedy among Roman audiences familiarized
them with a wider array of poetic styles, easily adaptable to the Romans’
own tradition of satirical song noted above. In addition, more and more
members of the Roman elite, having received fine educations in Greek,
began to try their own hand at poetry rather than simply hiring professional
writers to compose things for them as they had done in the past; aristocratic
patrons of poetry remained, as did poetry composed for public events with
government sanction, but there were also now aristocratic poets composing
for their own pleasure. All this set in motion the eventual reaction against
long-winded, largely patriotic and militaristic epic verse by the “new poets”
of the first century BCE, young, energetic members of the Roman upper
classes who had messages of their own to convey and did so in verse.
The Neoterics, inspired by the verses of famous Greek poets such as
Anacreon, Sappho, and especially Callimachus, developed short stanzas on
topics like love, eroticism, family, friendship, social activities and societal
problems, and even political satire. Their style in these elegies (metrical
couplets) was elegant and clearly crafted with expert linguistic care and
great intellectual awareness and depth, yet they often employed simple and
colloquial language. Their poems, thus, appeared contemporary and popu-
lar, in the sense of utilizing the vocabulary of the general public, but they
were not necessarily easy to read by just anyone off the street, since they
often required a certain sophistication to understand their elaborate imag-
ery and the Greek “jargon” included alongside the “simple” Latin.
Catullus appears to have been at the center of this “new poetry” move-
ment, its best exemplar. Like his comrades, he lived what the “older gen-
eration” considered a decadent lifestyle, filled with parties, overindulgence,
and especially undignified emotional attachments, such as his storied rela-
tionship with a woman called by him Lesbia but generally acknowledged to
have been Clodia, one of the sisters of the infamous plebeian tribune, Clo-
dius Pulcher. Poets like Catullus thus introduced into Roman writing the
theme of romantic love, the exclusive, passionate bond between two per-
sons, with all its agony and ecstasy, wherein even Roman men might expe-
rience the power of the female and become “slaves” to “her lordship.” This
theme directly contrasted with the typically loveless, arranged marriages in
which most Romans actually lived.
160
One hundred fourteen of Catullus’s poems survive. They contain a re-

markable openness and a much more personal quality (especially in his
exploration of the pains of love) than much of the traditional Roman lit-
erature. They also cover a wide range of styles, not just those typical (or
stereotypical) of the Neoterics, since he also composed miniature epics and
satires, religious verse, and theatrical lyrics. Inspired by the exquisite preci-
sion and skill of famous heroic tales, the complexity and variety of theat-
rical productions, and the directness and expressiveness of popular song,
Catullus experimented with all sorts of poetic methods and thus cannot be
nailed down as conforming to any particular genre of poetry; he produced
remarkable results across the board, often mixing and matching to do so.
Catullus did not live long enough to see Julius Caesar become (mo-
mentarily) master of the Roman world, yet he nonetheless made Caesar
an especial focus of his in a number of poems. In Poem 11 (the numbers
come from modern scholarship), for example, he appears to commemorate
Caesar’s achievements during the Gallic Wars with references to the monu-
ments of the great Caesar (Caesaris . . . monimenta magni), visible to some-
one who had crossed over the Alps (though no such actual monuments are
otherwise attested in the ancient sources), as well as to the Gallic Rhine,
which Caesar famously crossed, and the horrifying inhabitants of Britain
far, far away, whom Caesar brought into the orbit of Rome.
Catullus’s attitude toward Caesar is not usually so positive or so praising,
however. In several poems, for instance, he criticizes Caesar through or to-
gether with the latter’s friend Mamurra, who came from the Italian town
of Formiae (modern Formia) in Latium (modern Lazio). In Poem 29, for
example, Catullus asserts that Mamurra, who served as Caesar’s chief en-
gineer for much of the Gallic campaign, now owned wealth once belong-
ing to “Long-haired Gaul” as well as Britain, a level of personal wealth
that only a gambler (aleo), someone just as greedy (vorax) and shameless
(impudicus) as Mamurra himself, could possibly stomach (i.e., implied in
the poem, someone like Caesar). He also asserts that Mamurra possessed
200 or 300 times the value of Britain. Since this was already a kind of fai-
rytale place to the Romans as “the farthest western island,” Mamurra’s
wealth appears to be of an unreal scale as well. Catullus finally complains
that Mamurra has wasted everything he ever received, thanks to Caesar
(which again has implications for Caesar’s character, as they are birds of
a feather).
Throughout the poem, Catullus addresses Caesar directly but without
expressly naming him. He identifies him simply as “general extraordinaire”
(imperator unice), by which we know he is not addressing Mamurra. He
says to Caesar, “You are shameless and greedy and a gambler” (es impudicus
et vorax et aleo), thereby tarring Caesar openly with the same brush as he
had done Mamurra. He calls Caesar “Roman sodomite” (cinaede Romule),
161
again lumping him in with Mamurra, who had a similar reputation. Finally,
Catullus blames Caesar’s famous “generosity” (liberalitas) for Mamurra’s
enrichment and, addressing Caesar as “father-in-law and son-in-law” (per-
haps a reference to the latter’s familial relationship to Pompey), asks Caesar
if the city of Rome lost so much (in blood and treasure, we assume) just for
the likes of Mamurra.
In Poem 54, Catullus again gets at Caesar through personal attacks on
others, particularly Otho, Libo, and Sufficio, all apparently associates of
Caesar’s but otherwise unknown to us. He calls the first man tiny-headed,
the second flatulent, and the third prematurely aged. Perhaps these char-
acteristics were meant to apply to Caesar as well or perhaps this is simply
another case of “guilt” by association. Catullus ends the stanza with the
words, “once again let them bring you to anger, Special General, my mer-
itless verses” (irascere iterum meis iambis inmerentibus, unice imperator).
The poet evidently had little fear of what he was doing nor did he hide from
his purpose.
One of his direct assaults on Caesar is Poem 57. In it, Catullus equates
Mamurra and Caesar as “coming together beautifully as perverted homo-
sexuals, the former in the passive role, the one and the other just as marred”
(Pulcre convenit improbis cinaedis, Mamurrae pathicoque Caesarique mac-
ulae pares utrisque). Also, neither of them is less greedy than the other
in the desire to engage in adulterous behavior (non hic quam ille magis
vorax adulter); in fact, they are “rivals and allies in having the same little
girls” (rivales socii puellularum). In Catullus’s time, political rivals com-
monly leveled such allegations of sexual misconduct or sexual difference
against one another with tremendous alacrity, but so, too, did one’s soldiers
and comrades cast such aspersions as part of Roman humor and a check
on dangerous arrogance; the poet has thus brought the language of politi-
cal mud-slinging into his verses, but for an unclear, perhaps multi-faceted
purpose.
Poem 93 contains Catullus’s most famous direct statement toward Cae-
sar. It reads, “I have no desire at all to please you, Caesar, nor even to
know whether you are white or black man” (Nil nimium studeo, Caesar,
tibi velle placere, nec scire utrum sis albus an ater homo). Though there have
been, and still are, different scholarly interpretations of this couplet, the
most common is that Catullus is questioning Caesar’s sexual orientation
yet again, since the terms “white” and “black” in Roman slang referred to
heterosexual and homosexual tendencies, respectively.
With the Neoterics, one could never quite tell how much what they
wrote was sincere and how much was artificial, art for art’s sake. Some
of their verses even acquired the label nugae, meaning “nonsense.” Yet,
Caesar knew Catullus’s poems well and took them seriously enough. Ac-
cording to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar forgave Catullus for
162
Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE)
such verses, despite the fact that, as he fully recognized, they had made a
real and lasting blot on his reputation. He maintained a friendly relation-
ship of hospitality with the poet’s father and, when the poet himself apolo-
gized (“made satisfaction,” as Suetonius puts it, whatever that means) to
Caesar, the latter immediately had him over for a fine dinner. Suetonius’s
older contemporary, the historian Tacitus, places in the mouth of another
famous historian, Cremutius Cordus, the assertion that Caesar took the lit-
erary abuse and let it go, without any reprisals (a model that ought to have
been followed, Cremutius and Tacitus believed, by the Roman Emperors).
The story of Catullus and Caesar thus still mattered to Romans writing a
century and a half after the young poet’s death. Catullus became a literary
giant among the poets who came after him across the generations of the
Roman Empire.
See also: Britain; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE);
Education; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Germans; Homosexuality; Imperator;
Oratory; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE)
Further Reading
Press.
Fordyce, C. J. 1961. Catullus: A Commentary. Oxford, UK: Oxford University
Press.
Lee, G. 1990. Catullus: The Complete Poems. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
Quinn, K. 1969. The Catullan Revolution. Ann Arbor: Michigan University Press.
Wiseman, T. P. 1985. Catullus and His World. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.

Though related to Julius Caesar, Q. Lutatius Catulus or Catulus the
Younger, always stood as one of his staunchest opponents. Though not
a paragon of virtue, as some Roman sources accuse him of using bribery
and condoning perjury, Catulus, nonetheless, had more integrity than most
and was noted for his wisdom, fair dealing, and overall deserving of respect
(auctoritas, to use the Roman word). As one of the leading Optimates in
the Roman Senate in Caesar’s time, he had supported the dictatorship of
Sulla but afterward often defended the Republic against other would-be
dictators.
Catulus and Caesar shared family ties that people today might consider
rather tenuous but that Romans of their time would have regarded with
163
respect. Caesar’s third cousins, L. Julius Caesar and C. Julius Caesar Strabo,
were the younger half-brothers of Catulus’s father, Q. Lutatius Catulus the
Elder, through their common mother, Popillia; Catulus the Younger, then,
was related “distantly” to Caesar through Popillia’s marriage into the Ju-
lius clan. Another connection was political, the fact that Catulus the Elder
basically owed his career to Caesar’s famous uncle, Marius, husband of his
aunt Julia.
By the time of Caesar’s birth in 100 BCE, however, the elder Catulus
and Marius had probably had their well-known falling-out over their com-
peting claims to victory in the Cimbric War (102–101 BCE), and, from
then on, Catulus the Elder gravitated toward the opponents of Marius, like
L. Cornelius Sulla, and stood in the way of Marius’s associates, for example,
L. Cornelius Cinna, who eventually became Caesar’s father-in-law. When
Cinna and Marius used armed force and intimidation to gain control of
Rome near the end of 87 BCE, they arranged for the executions of L Julius
Caesar and C. Julius Caesar Strabo, who had also turned against Marius,
and for one of the plebeian tribunes to bring a charge, probably of treason,
against Catulus the Elder; the latter did not await trial and execution, but
instead committed suicide. By the time Caesar had turned fourteen years
old, he had witnessed one faction among his relations eliminate another
faction.
Whether Catulus the Younger, who was perhaps twenty years Caesar’s
senior, had stayed in Italy during the regime of Cinna is unclear from the
available evidence, but his great personal enmity toward Cinna’s faction,
which had caused the destruction of his father and uncles, had the chance
to surface when General Sulla returned to the peninsula in 84 BCE; Catulus
stood with Sulla against the Cinnani, taking revenge, especially on the tri-
bune responsible for his father’s suicide.
With the victory of Sulla, the doors of political advancement opened
to Catulus, whose career had probably stalled in the midst of all the civil
upheavals. In 78 BCE, he held the consulship together with M. Aemilius
Lepidus, who had been a supporter of Cinna until switching over to Sulla’s
side. Lepidus was an out-and-out opportunist and clearly had ambitions of
dictatorial power. From the time of the elections in the summer of 79 right
through the beginning of their term together, Catulus had tried to hem in
those ambitions, which he feared might turn into another civil war. Lepidus
certainly had an inclination and a knack for rousing popular anger against
the Sullan establishment. Surely, this served as a motivation for the lex Lu-
tatia de vi, Catulus’s law against public violence, passed sometime in 78;
it probably extended the provisions of Sulla’s law against treason (lex Cor-
nelia de maiestate), which covered violent acts against members of the rul-
ing class, to include such acts committed by any Roman citizen against any
Roman citizen, including even armed occupation of public places, public
164
display of weapons with aggressive or murderous intent, and gathering of

armed supporters to disturb the peace. Catulus’s law also created, for the
first time in Rome’s history, a standing senatorial court to hear cases of
public violence (quaestio de vi), staffed by judges of at least the rank of ae-
dile, who were required to meet even on public holidays. The lex Lutatia
de vi became the prototype for further regulations to curb violence both
during the Late Republic and under the emperors later.
Catulus, unfortunately, had to do more than promulgate legislation
against activities that threatened stability and order; he was also forced to
take military action against such activities at the hands of his colleague Lep-
idus. A rebellion had broken out among the population of the region of
Etruria (modern Tuscany); the Senate had not trusted Lepidus to suppress
this problem alone, and so ordered Catulus to go there as well. When it
appeared to him that the uprising had fizzled out on its own, Catulus re-
turned to the capital; Lepidus, however, stayed behind, stoking up the fires
of rebellion again, to foment a revolution. The Senate at first attempted to
make deals with Lepidus, but eventually reneged and ordered Catulus to
remain in command of armed forces as proconsul to defend Rome against
the approaching army of Lepidus.
In the summer of 77 BCE, not far from Rome itself, Catulus defeated
Lepidus’s army in open battle. Though Lepidus himself and many of his of-
ficers and soldiers escaped to the city of Cosa on the Mediterranean coast,
Catulus pursued them there and defeated them again, forcing the remain-
der to flee from Italy; soon after, Lepidus died of an illness (probably a
complication from his wounds) on the island of Sardinia.
In the aftermath of this victory, yet a new threat to the Republic almost
immediately presented itself. The Senate had assigned Catulus a special
lieutenant, Cn. Pompeius Magnus, whom we call Pompey; he had forced
the surrender of Lepidus’s lieutenant, M. Junius Brutus the Elder, father
of the later infamous assassin of Caesar, and executed him. Flushed with
his own success, Pompey refused Catulus’s order to demobilize the forces
under his command. Many in Rome feared that Pompey planned to march
on Rome himself and incite new civil strife. The Senate did not order Catu-
lus to take action against his insubordinate subordinate, however. Whether
Catulus himself was ready and willing to do so is an unanswered question;
a decade later, the orator Cicero certainly asserted that Catulus was not,
and, indeed, that he supported the senators when they conferred on Pom-
pey proconsular imperium (governor’s power) and got him and his army of
40,000 men out of the way by sending them off to the province of Nearer
Spain (roughly northeastern Spain today) to fight against another rebel
commander, Sertorius.
Pompey had not openly sought domination of Rome, as Lepidus had,
but Catulus continued to view him with great suspicion and, seeing himself
165
as an Optimate, that is, one of the self-appointed defenders of Rome’s tra-

ditions, Catulus used every opportunity he could to resist the growing in-
fluence of Pompey. In 67 BCE and again in the following year, Catulus
spoke up against the proposals from two plebeian tribunes to grant Pom-
pey, first, an extraordinary command against the pirate menace throughout
the Mediterranean and, second, against two kings, Mithradates VI of Pon-
tus and Tigranes II of Armenia. Catulus held the attention of the audience
of Roman voters, who had such tremendous respect for him; he spoke very
highly of Pompey, but agreed with other Optimate senators who asserted
that no one man should be given such extensive positions, especially in the
case of the proposal of 67. He complained of precedent being ignored and
tradition dismissed in favor of radical innovation. Yet, Pompey’s career up
to that point had been built on just such departures from tradition, and one
of those who defended the proposal in 66, the orator Cicero, claimed that
Catulus had supported previous special dispensations in Pompey’s favor.
Catulus tried another tactic by attempting to persuade the voters through
arousing their fears: who could ever replace Pompey if he were killed? The
voters responded by saying they would choose Catulus himself, honest,
tough, up to any challenge, to take Pompey’s role, if that moment came.
This thoroughly embarrassed Catulus and pulled the rug out from under
his arguments.
In point of fact, Catulus (like other distinguished Optimates) did not
oppose Pompey’s special commands because it was something new or be-
cause he feared for Pompey’s safety, but because he believed it was time
to halt Pompey’s rise in power; it had become too common, and too dan-
gerous to the stability of the Republic, for Pompey to receive yet another
grant of such authority. Furthermore, he had used such positions to steal
credit from and diminish the reputation of fellow senators: Catulus himself
had suffered that fate in the Revolt of Lepidus, Metellus Pius in the Ser-
torian War in Spain, M. Licinius Crassus after the war with Spartacus. The
proposal of 66 would have done the same to Catulus’s associate and fel-
low Optimate, L. Licinius Lucullus, after years of hard service against the
enemy kings. In the end, however, Catulus’s arguments fell flat; Pompey’s
influence turned out to be irresistible.
Speaking of Crassus, the wealthiest man in Rome, Catulus also stood
against him; a former associate from the days of Sulla’s dictatorship, Crassus
seemed to have become just another opportunist, in Catulus’s eyes. When
they were both elected censors in 65 BCE, Catulus managed to stop every
attempt Crassus made to use that office to increase his own political follow-
ing. In fact, the two were at odds so much that not even the normal tasks
of the censorship took place, such as conducting the census and reviewing
membership of the Senate and the equestrian order; instead, they mutually
agreed to resign after just a few months in office.
166
Then, there was Catulus’s distant cousin, Julius Caesar. The latter’s per-
sonal connections to Marius and Cinna, his legal assaults on followers of
Sulla in the courts, his sympathy for the cause of Lepidus, and support for
the return of those exiled because of him, all marked Caesar out as another
troublemaker in Catulus’s book. When Caesar discreetly replaced the long-
destroyed monuments in honor of Marius with new ones on the Capitoline
Hill, without senatorial authorization, Catulus openly denounced Caesar
in the resultant meeting of the Senate as no longer working underground
against the state but rather in full view.
What infuriated Catulus the most about Caesar was how the latter cam-
paigned against those with much better qualifications and seniority of
honor, especially himself, for the office of Pontifex Maximus, the highest
religious office in Rome. In 63 BCE, Caesar won that election through bla-
tant bribery, leaving Catulus’s own campaign in the dust.
Not long after, the two men had a fresh confrontation, during the sena-
torial debates regarding the Conspiracy of Catiline. Catulus had, in fact,
some sort of connection with Catiline, perhaps having acted as the latter’s
patron in the past, which explains why, according to the historian Sallust,
Catiline wrote to Catulus asking him to protect the former’s loved ones.
Nevertheless, Catulus joined the up-and-coming young Optimate leader,
Cato, in urging the death penalty for those of Catiline’s co-conspirators
who had been arrested; he also believed that Caesar was sufficiently cozy
with the plotters to justify his arrest and elimination by the then-consul,
Cicero. When Cicero refused to go along with what he regarded as basically
setting Caesar up, Catulus and others took it upon themselves to circulate
rumors about Caesar’s complicity in the conspiracy; they aroused some ani-
mosity toward Caesar but not enough to be really effective. Until the very
time of his death, it seems that Catulus did not forgive Cicero for letting
slip the opportunity of destroying Caesar.
Retaliation against Catulus came swiftly, when Caesar assumed the of-
fice of praetor in 62 BCE. He immediately convened a meeting of the vot-
ers (probably in the Tribal Assembly) to assess the record of Catulus as
special commissioner for the restoration of the Temple of Jupiter Opti-
mus Maximus, as well as other structures, on the Capitoline Hill. Caesar
alleged that Catulus had moved too slowly on the project, which is odd,
considering that common opinion today holds that the major aspects of
the restoration had already been completed seven years previously. Caesar
embarrassed Catulus further by insisting that the latter deliver a formal re-
port on the subject, not from the elevated speaker’s platform, but at ground
level. The Optimates stood by Catulus fully, however; Caesar had to let the
matter drop.
Afterwards, Catulus disappears from the historical record, and modern
scholars believe that he must have died some time in 61 BCE. He had served
167
Census
as senior senator, though without the honorary title of princeps senatus

(first man of the Senate), for about a decade and a half, and had been in
that time one of the preeminent Optimates. His mantle of leadership, if we
can call it that, passed partly to Cicero (who even bought one of his villas)
but especially to the relatively young Cato, who continued to resist the in-
fluence of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar, and picked up Catulus’s long-time
effort to prevent the rise of a new dictator.
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Capitoline Hill; Cato (95–46 BCE); Census;
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Courts; Crassus
(ca. 112–53 BCE); Dictator; Extraordinary Commands; Forum Romanum;
Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE); Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE);
Pontifex Maximus; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Ltd.
Keaveney, A. 1982. Sulla: The Last Republican. London: Routledge.
McGushin, P. 1992. Sallust: The Histories. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
University Press.
Census
In the summer of 46 BCE, on his return to Rome from North Africa, where
he had scored another victory over his rivals in the faction of Pompey, the
Senate declared Caesar as dictator for a ten-year period. Among the tasks
he faced in that capacity was the taking of a census of the Roman citizen
population.
The Romans were not the first society to engage in census-taking; the
Egyptians under their ancient Pharaohs were famous for doing so genera-
tions before. The Roman census under the Republic had always been dif-
ferent from any other, however. The officials in charge of the process were
not appointed by some king who sought to identify how many subjects he
had under his command and how much their wealth amounted to. Instead,
the Roman voters themselves elected those officials, the two censors, every
168
Census
Fourteenth-century Byzantine wall mosaic in the Church of the Holy Savior in Chora
(Istanbul), depicting Joseph and the Virgin Mary standing before Cyrenius, Roman
governor of Syria, as part of the imperial census. (Ahmet Ihsan Ariturk/
Dreamstime.com)
five years for a special term of eighteen months, and the censors not only
collected data on numbers and wealth but also scrutinized the upper class
to remove undesirables, confirmed voters in their rights of sovereignty, and
categorized Roman men in terms of their eligibility for military service.
Taking of the census became a powerful factor in many aspects of Roman
life, and the men selected for the office of censor had the Romans’ utmost
respect and trust.
By the time of Caesar’s dictatorship in 46, the last successful census had
been that conducted by Lentulus and Gellius back in 70 BCE. So much had
happened in Roman society since then, and so many Romans had lost their
lives, especially in the civil strife that Caesar and his opponents had ignited,
that taking a new census was crucial. He enlisted the help of the prominent
citizens who served as a sort of neighborhood watch in the city of Rome
itself and made it incumbent upon officials in all the towns of Italy to con-
duct their censuses at the same time as that in Rome, and to send copies of
the results to the capital. He also ordered the elected magistrates known as
praetors to keep track of recorded deaths and additions of new citizens on a
continual basis, rather than only at the time of the general census.
169
Centurions
According to our ancient sources, Caesar discovered a citizen population

severely reduced. To compensate, he put into place various requirements and
restrictions. He mandated that citizens live and work in Italy as much as possi-
ble, unless they had been sent to colonies Caesar had established or were serv-
ing in the military abroad. He ordered cattle ranches in Italy to employ more
citizens and fewer foreign slaves. He extended citizenship to loyal support-
ers from Spain and Gaul (roughly modern France), and to all physicians and
professors of whatever background, as long as they moved their residency to
Rome; in this way, he literally infused new blood into the citizen population.
As seen above, the focus of the census during the Republic was solely on
those people in the empire who held Roman citizenship. The usefulness of
Caesar’s census, not only in terms of the information collected but also in
terms of the beneficial policy responses that information elicited, encour-
aged Caesar’s successor, the first emperor, Augustus, to famously conduct
censuses of the entire population of the Roman realm.
See also: Dictator; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE)
Further Reading
Brunt, P. A. 1988. Fall of the Roman Republic and Related Essays. Oxford, UK:
Clarendon Press.
Sherwin-White, A. N. 1973. The Roman Citizenship. 2nd ed. Oxford, UK: Clar-
endon Press.
University Press.
Centurions
Centurions formed the backbone of the Roman army during the Repub-
lic. Though there were rare cases where they came from the upper levels of
society (Caesar’s account of his Civil War with Pompey does record one of
the latter’s centurions in western Greece as Valerius Flaccus, son of L. Vale-
rius Flaccus, senatorial governor of the province of Asia about a dozen years
earlier), the vast majority came from humble backgrounds. They typically
rose up through the ranks of soldiers to become the top non-commissioned
officers in the Roman legions.
In any given legion, there were fifty-nine centurions, five in the first co-
hort, six in each of the other nine cohorts. A strict seniority was observed
170
Centurions
Roman centurion sculpted by

Louis St. Gaudens on the
exterior of Union Station,
Washington, D.C., 1914. The
portrayal is meant to be
idealized rather than a
completely accurate image of a
centurion’s armor. (Library of
Congress)
among them: the six centurions of a standard cohort were called by the spe-
cial titles (in descending order of status) pilus prior (forward javelin man),
pilus posterior (rear javelin man), princeps prior (forward chief), princeps
posterior (rear chief), hastatus prior (forward spearman), hastatus posterior
(rear spearman); the five centurions of the first cohort ranked above all
other centurions of the legion, but they, too, were divided by status (again
in descending order) as primus pilus (first javelin man), princeps (chief), has-
tatus (spearman), princeps posterior (second chief), hastatus posterior (sec-
ond spearman).
Commanders relied heavily upon their centurions. When Caesar decided
on invading Italy against his political enemies, for example, one of his first
moves was to send his centurions (and some other officers) to seize con-
trol of the city of Ariminum (modern Rimini); they were ordered to go in
armed only with their swords and to do as little damage as possible. Cen-
turions also tried to keep their commanders in line, as the leading centu-
rions did in the force commanded by Caesar’s legate, Sabinus, during the
Gallic Wars. They urged Sabinus not to break winter camp without express
171
Centurions
orders from Caesar and also not to engage in any hasty moves against the
enemy forces. Though Sabinus’s view won out, he still relied expressly on
those same senior centurions when he conferred with the enemy leader,
Ambiorix.
As some of the most critical leaders of a Roman legion, centurions could
find themselves the special targets of capture by enemy armies and by rival
Roman forces. For instance, at the start of the Civil War between Pompey
and Caesar, not long after Caesar’s invasion of Italy proper, a rival Roman
force deserted its commander (Attius Varus) and joined Caesar; as proof
of their new loyalty and trustworthiness, they offered up to Caesar one of
their own former centurions, by the name of L. Pupius. Indeed, Pupius
held the rank of primus pilus and had served previously under Pompey with
that same rank. He was, then, a military prisoner of considerable value;
Caesar’s release of this man thus demonstrated high respect for his status
and considerable self-assuredness.
Roman authors frequently commemorated losses and victories in battle
not only by noting the number of dead or wounded on one side or the
other but also by paying special attention to the particular centurions who
died or scored great successes. Presumably, not only the soldiers themselves
but also the civilians must have known these men and were glad to see their
names remembered. For example, forty-six centurions lost their lives in the
desperate siege of Gergovia during Caesar’s Gallic campaigns, including
the heroes L. Fabius, first to scale the enemy wall, and M. Petronius, whose
actions allowed other soldiers to escape his fate. After the Battle of Ilerda
in Spain, between Caesar and the Pompeian commanders Afranius and Pe-
treius, Caesar noted the loss of T. Caecilius, Afranius’s primus pilus, and
four other centurions; he also recorded the death of one of his own most
conspicuously courageous soldiers, Q. Fulginius. Fulginius is interesting
because he was described at the time as a former centurion of the first co-
hort in Caesar’s Fourteenth Legion; this means that he might have already
retired from service. Instead, he fought bravely once more, falling in the
first engagement with the enemy army.
Fulginius is not even the most conspicuous example of such reenlisted
centurions, who provided considerable veteran experience for the younger
soldiers and maintained a link of communication between the fighting men
and their commander. Certainly that claim to fame goes to Crastinus. He
led 120 volunteers in the first charge against Pompey’s forces at Pharsalus
in eastern Greece. Crastinus had served Caesar before, as primus pilus of
the Tenth Legion. According to Caesar’s own account of the war, before
the battle began, Crastinus followed up Caesar’s speech of encouragement
to the troops with one of his own, directed at the veterans who had simi-
larly seen service in the Tenth Legion. Not only that, Crastinus even boldly
spoke to Caesar himself; responding to the general’s question about how
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Centurions
things would go that day, the centurion asserted that Caesar’s side would
win and, shouting out promises of great achievements on the battlefield,
urged Caesar to watch him lead the way. Indeed, Crastinus died that day;
having hacked his way forward through the first rank of the opposing force,
followed by other, devoted soldiers, an enemy thrust his sword right into
Crastinus’s mouth; it came out the back of his neck. Caesar recorded it as a
most heroic end; indeed, he credited Crastinus’s outstanding courage for a
large share in the massive victory over Pompey’s army.
One could gauge with what determination an entire cohort fought by
recording information about its centurions. For instance, during the cam-
paign at Dyrrachium in western Greece, when Caesar seemed always to
be worsted by Pompey, four centurions from just one of his cohorts (we
should assume this was a standard cohort with six centurions) lost at least
one eye each, and that was just in defending their fortified position, not
even in open battle.
Centurions also inspired tremendous acts of daring on the part of indi-
vidual common soldiers. For example, when some of Caesar’s centurions
in Britain found themselves in difficult, marshy terrain and surrounded by
enemy troops, one of the rank-and-file Caesarians rushed the Britons from
firmer ground and fought them off, apparently terrifying them into retreat
by his reckless behavior, and thus singlehandedly rescued the centurions. In
another case, the primus pilus, P. Sextius Baculus, exhausted by fending off
the assault of warriors from the Gallic Nervii against Caesar’s Twelfth Le-
gion, collapsed, apparently near death. He survived, though, and became
even more brave and determined, as seen when he and another centurion,
C. Volusenus, urged Caesar’s legate, Ser. Galba, to daring moves. Caesar
later noted Baculus again as steadying the men of his camp against German
attack, even when sick and starving without food, rallying other centurions
by his side, then again collapsing, but rescued again by others.
Overwhelming odds and consequent defeat were also marked by the
loss of centurions. For instance, during the assault by the Nervii just men-
tioned, the fourth cohort of the Twelfth Legion lost all of its centurions
and a majority of those in the other cohorts were either killed or severely
wounded. This sent frightening shockwaves through the men, who were
unable to rally until Caesar himself appeared on the scene. Again, during
the campaign against Pompey in western Greece, four out of five centu-
rions in one of Caesar’s first cohorts died, suggesting near total disaster.
Pompey’s victory at Dyrrachium in mid-summer of 48 BCE cost Caesar an-
other thirty-two centurions, many of them stampeded under foot by his
panic-stricken soldiers. The death of so many centurions helped persuade
Caesar to make a major change in strategy, to retreat into eastern Greece.
In addition, this loss reminds us that centurions held their ground even
against their own men and often paid the price for doing so. On another
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Centurions
occasion, for instance, during the Battle of Thapsus between Caesar and
Metellus Scipio, the former’s centurions tried in vain to hold back their
own troops from an attack against the enemy, which Caesar had expressly
forbidden. At least in this case, the centurions were not harmed by their
own men.
As some of the general’s most trusted officers, centurions symbolized
loyalty. Even after capture, such loyalty illustrated the level of respect in
which they held their commander. When his enemy, Metellus Scipio, cap-
tured one of Caesar’s ships off the coast of North Africa, the unnamed
centurion on board responded to Scipio’s call to join his side with a defi-
ant address. He pledged his own continued loyalty to Caesar (whom he
had served, he claimed, for already thirteen years), called Scipio’s resistance
to Caesar criminal, and boldly urged the enemy commander to lay down
his arms. Not thinking this too far to go, the centurion challenged one of
Scipio’s entire cohorts to stand up to himself and ten other Caesarian sol-
diers. Metellus Scipio immediately ordered the centurion’s execution in
front of everyone.
Centurions could also become infamous for their treachery. It was one
of Pompey’s former centurions, after all, L. Septimius, who lured him into
the trap of death devised by Achillas, the chief general of the Egyptian king
Ptolemy XIII.
Centurions received much greater pay than other soldiers, indeed per-
haps as much as ten times more in most cases, an important incentive for
working hard to rise up from the ranks. When the Civil War began, every
one of Caesar’s centurions offered to provide equipment for the cavalry
out of his own savings. This is certainly the reason why Caesar, during his
campaign in Spain in the spring and summer of 49 BCE, borrowed money
not only from his junior officers, all of whom would have been wealthy
senators, but also from the centurions in the six legions with him. In-
deed, Caesar himself, in his account of the Civil War, claims that he re-
quested money from the centurions not only to win greater support from
the troops (he distributed the money among them as a sort of pay-off)
but also in an attempt to tie the fortunes of his centurions to his own; if
he failed, they would lose their money. Caesar became their very own risky
investment.
Conspicuous acts of bravery on the part of centurions were rewarded
handsomely by Roman generals. For example, the centurion Scaeva of Cae-
sar’s Sixth Legion had stood his ground and led the defense of Caesar’s
camp at Dyrrachium against an enormous barrage of enemy arrows; he lost
one eye from an arrow and found his shoulder and leg pinned by enemy
javelins. Pretending to surrender, he lured two of the Pompeians close
enough to him to hack off the arm of one and severely injure the other
with a sword blow to the face. Scaeva’s fellow soldiers then had the chance
174
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE)
to free him and, when his shield was examined by Caesar, the latter iden-
tified over one hundred punctures from arrows. Caesar promoted Scaeva
from the eighth cohort (practically the bottom of the pecking order in the
legion) to the first cohort of the legion, indeed to the rank of primus pilus.
In addition, Scaeva received 200,000 sesterces from Caesar as a bonus, that
is, the equivalent of over 200 times the yearly pay of a Roman soldier.
By the time of Caesar, the role of the centurion had evolved beyond
simply holding the line, steadying the men and keeping discipline among
them; centurions had also come to embody extreme (often reckless) brav-
ery and courage, more so even than their superior officers. Soldiers seemed
often to look past those officers straight to their supreme commander for
guidance and inspiration; only in rare cases do the sources herald those
junior officers in their own right and not simply as effective surrogates of
their commanders. Perhaps the aristocratic officers of Caesar’s day were
more concerned with staying alive to enjoy the fruits of empire and to
return to Rome to engage in political maneuvering against one another
rather than with winning military reputations that required willfully en-
dangering their persons and their lives. Centurions rose to the challenge
in their place.
See also: Army; Belgae; Coinage/Money; Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE);
Gaul/Gallia Comata; Legions; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Tenth Legion; Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE)
Further Reading
Goldsworthy, A. 2003. The Complete Roman Army. London: Thames and Hudson.
Press.
Lendon, J. E. 2005. Soldiers and Ghosts. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

We know more about M. Tullius Cicero than about any other Roman, not
only because of information in ancient histories and biographies but espe-
cially because we possess almost sixty of his legal and political speeches, two
dozen of his essays on various learned topics, and over 800 letters to family,
friends, and colleagues, all of which help reveal his public and private per-
sonality, beliefs, choices, decisions, and so on. He played a pivotal role in
the life and career of Julius Caesar, at times as an ally and friend, at others
as a staunch opponent.
175
Statue of Cicero in front of the

Palace of Justice in Rome, Italy.
Although a modern sculpture,
the face of Cicero closely reflects
the features in the ancient busts
of the famous orator and
statesman, friend, and critic of
Caesar. (alessandro0770/
iStockphoto.com)
Born in 106 BCE in the Italian town of Arpinum (modern Arpino), Ci-
cero came from a prominent family, one of the domi nobiles, the home-
town aristocrats as he would have called them, to distinguish them from
the Roman nobility. Family relations had made it big in Rome (e.g., the
other famous Arpinite, C. Marius, connected to Cicero through his grand-
mother). A sort of child prodigy, Cicero learned oratory and law from the
most distinguished Roman rhetors and jurisconsults of the age.
As a young man of seventeen, he served under Pompey’s father, Pom-
peius Strabo, during the Social War between Rome and her rebellious Ital-
ian allies; his lifelong friendship with Pompey began at this time. During
the following year, he served under Sulla in southern Italy. Thus, Cicero,
though born outside Rome himself, was staunchly in favor of the Roman
cause. When Civil War broke out between Sulla and his rivals (first, Mar-
ius, then, Cinna and others), Cicero took no active part on either side,
instead continuing his professional training as a lawyer in Rome. He did
this despite his family’s links to Marius’s family and several key support-
ers of Marius. Marius had become involved in schemes and methods too
176
radical for Cicero, and Cicero sought to become a mainstream senator,

not a troublemaker. He also saw many of his friends and relatives elimi-
nated by Sulla.
Yet, when Cicero’s big break as an advocate arrived in 80 BCE, it was
as defense attorney for Roscius of Ameria, whose father had been killed
in the proscriptions by some of Sulla’s closest henchmen in order to steal
the family’s property; the entire case (which Cicero won) called Sulla’s
deeds into serious question at a time when Sulla was still alive and in a
position of power. Cicero, understandably, soon left Rome to study phi-
losophy at Athens and later at Rhodes. Though young Cicero might have
feared Sulla’s wrath, since he was no friend of Sulla’s, still he did support
Sulla’s rather conservative reconstitution of the Republic, and indeed
became over time one of its greatest defenders, and would famously pro-
mote harmony between the senatorial and equestrian orders (concordia
ordinum) who had increasingly been on opposite sides of the political
fence since the late second century BCE, a state of affairs made worse, in
fact, by Sulla.
Not long after his return to Rome, Cicero was elected quaestor to serve
the governor of the province of Sicily (75 BCE); this post brought him into
the Roman Senate as a novus homo, a new man. He again attacked one of
Sulla’s former associates, C. Verres (who had made a despicable reputation
for himself as the next governor of Sicily) forcing Verres into exile. That
same year, 70 BCE, Cicero served as aedile, and in 66 BCE, he served as prae-
tor. By that time, he had hitched his wagon to Pompey’s star, supporting
with his marvelous eloquence the latter’s extraordinary appointments to
command Roman forces across the empire; Cicero also protected Pompey’s
associates whenever they got into trouble in the courts of law.
Cicero was given an opportunity to prove his political philosophy and
his self-image as a bringer of concord, both during his campaign for the
consulship in 64 BCE, when he unified upper-class interests to defeat the
radical candidate, Catiline, and during his time as consul in 63 BCE, when
Catiline championed a violent conflict between the haves and have-nots
in Italy for his own benefit. Cicero worked hard and diligently to foil Ca-
tiline’s conspiracy against the state, even when many senators refused to
believe that any danger was imminent. Fully suspicious of Catiline, never-
theless, Cicero had him watched by spies, who collected information on
the plot and persuaded the Senate with that intelligence to pass a blanket
emergency decree (the SCU) that allowed Cicero and other magistrates to
collect more information and to guard against Catiline’s coup d’etat. After
an attempt on his own life, Cicero confronted Catiline directly in a meeting
of the Senate, which precipitated Catiline’s flight from Rome to his rebel
army in Etruria (modern Tuscany). Catiline and his associates, especially
his rebel troops, were officially declared public enemies, and arrests were
177
made in Rome of co-conspirators who were about to take violent action

in the city.
It was at this point that Cicero’s career intersected with Julius Caesar’s,
for as Cicero called for the execution of the prisoners, Caesar called for
their indefinite house arrest. We might say that Cicero’s political opinion of
Caesar was forever colored by this disagreement: Caesar was too lenient to
troublemakers, invited ever-renewed strife, and cared too much for his pop-
ular reputation rather than the real good of the Republic. When the Senate
voted to execute the arrested conspirators, and Catiline and his army fell
in battle against senatorial armies, Cicero’s position seemed to have been
vindicated.
Yet, when the initial afterglow as savior of Rome wore off, Cicero soon
appeared as an extremely pompous braggart. During the crisis and in the
years immediately following, as he published his speeches regarding the
conspiracy, Cicero showed too much pride in his accomplishment, criti-
cized the stupidity or evil of those who had backed Catiline, and claimed
to have followed the will of the Roman People and to have protected their
interests at great personal risk. In describing the plotters as debt-ridden,
overly ambitious peasants, criminals, and moral degenerates, Cicero hoped
to demonstrate the moral superiority of himself and his side in the crisis;
he was so elated by his success that he even once attributed it to nothing
less than divine favor and unwisely compared himself to the most victorious
generals of Rome, including Pompey.
Cicero firmly believed that the highest orders of society stood staunchly
behind him. Yet, the senatus consultum ultimum that supposedly autho-
rized his actions was soon called into question legally and the plebeian tri-
bune, Metellus Nepos, put the great defense attorney on the defensive by
castigating Cicero for butchering Roman citizens and ignoring constitu-
tional due process; Metellus did not even allow Cicero to make the tradi-
tional consul’s farewell address.
For the next five years, Cicero continued to fend off such open attacks,
and others not so open. Still, he remained a staunch supporter of the Sen-
ate, of harmony between senators and equestrians, and of Pompey. Then
came Pompey’s political association with Caesar in the First Triumvirate,
their attempt, together with Crassus, to manipulate the institutions of the
Republic for their own gain, against the Optimates, their opponents in the
Senate. They invited Cicero to join their coalition; after all, he had long
supported Pompey’s cause quite openly and had become personal friends
with Caesar and at least cordial with Crassus; Cicero had also spoken to
the Senate in support of the requests from Pompey and Crassus that had
been denied by the Optimates and backed by Caesar. But Cicero felt that
he would compromise his freedom of action and perhaps his integrity if he
got involved; he openly criticized the three men for their unconstitutional
178
approach. When the Triumvirs arranged C. Antonius Hybrida’s conviction

in the law courts and exile to avenge the memory of Catiline (Hybrida had
been Cicero’s colleague in 63 BCE and had commanded the senatorial forces
that defeated Catiline), Cicero knew that his unwillingness to cooperate
with the Triumvirs made him a clear obstacle to their continued influence,
an obstacle to be removed.
In 58 BCE, the Triumvirs pitted one of Cicero’s personal enemies against
him. As tribune of the plebs, this man, P. Clodius Pulcher, renewed in the
Plebeian Assembly the law outlawing any person who had put Roman citi-
zens to death without due process, targeted right at Cicero; the latter’s
worst fears had come true. Cicero did not await trial, because he soon dis-
covered that even high-ranking members of the Senate, many of whom
were jealous of him as a new man, would not come to his rescue. Instead,
he chose to go into voluntary exile in Greece, where he had connections
and friends who would protect him. Afterward, the government banished
Cicero formally, allowed the confiscation of his property, the burning of
his house on the Palatine Hill, and the vandalizing of his villa at Tuscu-
lum. Even the rest of Cicero’s family (his wife, Terentia, daughter, Tullia,
son Marcus, and especially his brother Quintus) found themselves under
threat.
Cicero’s brother Quintus and various friends came out of the woodwork
all across Italy clamoring for his exoneration and recall; he had done noth-
ing, they said, to deserve such a fate, and his family had done nothing to
merit such harassment. Pompey also soon came to support this cause, re-
gretting his betrayal of his long-time friend. Though the efforts of Cicero’s
supporters were met with violence by his opponents, finally, one of the
praetors proposed a law of recall to the Centuriate Assembly at the demand
of over 400 senators. When it passed in 57 BCE, Cicero hurried home to a
hero’s welcome; the restoration of his property and lands took a little lon-
ger. He seemed to be reconciled with his hero Pompey and now worked to
reconcile the latter with the Optimates in the Senate. When a severe famine
hit the city, for example, Cicero strenuously urged such senators to support
a proposal to place Pompey in charge of the entire grain supply of Rome
for five years with proconsular imperium throughout the empire, especially
over markets, ports, and ships.
Though Pompey and Cicero grew closer once again, Pompey was still
allied to Caesar and Crassus, and this placed Cicero in the role of uncom-
fortable henchman for all the Triumvirs. In many letters, he vigorously de-
fended himself to his friends and others, arguing that he willingly chose this
course as the best politically and the freest, in that it was not hampered by
obstinate ideological principles, like the actions of the Optimates, whom he
often failed to comprehend; Cato, whom he greatly respected, so boldly yet
so ineffectively opposed the Triumvirs, in his opinion. With Crassus, Cicero
179
had reconciled, at least formally, for the two had dinner together before
Crassus left for Syria in November 55 BCE, but he still admitted privately to
his best friend, Atticus, that Crassus was a worthless character. With Caesar,
he once again maintained close relations, getting his brother Quintus and
many other friends and clients on Caesar’s military staff in Gaul through
personal recommendations. He defended (or at least tried to defend) Cae-
sar’s associates in the law courts as they became proxy targets of Caesar’s
enemies. But Cicero also began retiring from public life (aside from a short
stint as governor of the province of Cilicia), devoting more and more of his
time to intellectual pursuits and writing on matters of religion, philosophy,
and politics.
This retirement ended in the late 50s BCE with the approach of Civil War
between Pompey and Caesar; Cicero attempted reconciliation between the
two men. Even after the war began, Cicero did not take up arms on the
side of Pompey right away; his heart was not in it, he distrusted the motives
and methods of the Optimates who had pushed Pompey into confronting
Caesar, and he was even approached by Caesar to remain in Rome on his
side. Cicero later joined Pompey’s army in Greece, though, but after its
defeat in the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BCE, surrendered to Caesar and was
pardoned by him.
Once again, Cicero retired into private life, until the conspiracy that
toppled Caesar; he was not part of it, but he heralded Brutus and Cassius
for removing the “tyrant.” He survived Caesar little more than a year and
a half; his attempt to support Octavian, Caesar’s heir and great-nephew,
against Marc Antony (Cicero came out of retirement to deliver a series
of scathing speeches against Antony, whom he regarded as a second ty-
rant to be destroyed) backfired when Octavian joined forces with Antony
against their common senatorial enemies. Cicero became public enemy
number one for the new Triumvirs, whose soldiers captured him and
executed him.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62
BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Equites; Gangs; Milo
(d. 48 BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Optimates; Pharsalus, Bat-
tle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78
BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Dorey, T. A. 1965. Cicero. London: Routledge, Ltd.
Everitt, A. 2001. Cicero: The Life and Times of Rome’s Greatest Politician. New
York: Barnes and Noble, Inc.
Mitchell, T. N. 1991. Cicero the Senior Statesman. New Haven, CT: Yale Univer-
sity Press.
Rawson, E. 1975. Cicero, a Portrait. London: Bristol Classical Press.
180
Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE)

Q. Tullius Cicero, the younger brother of the more famous M. Tullius Ci-
cero, served on the military staffs of both Pompey and Julius Caesar. In this
capacity, he probably came to know these two most powerful Romans of
his time better than his brother did, even though his brother Marcus prided
himself on his connections with both leaders and his political savvy.
Born four years after his brother, Quintus seems to have had little of the
nostalgia that Marcus had for their hometown of Arpinum; this is not sur-
prising since the Cicero family left Arpinum not long after Quintus’s birth
and moved to Rome to pursue greater opportunities there. Alongside his
big brother, he received an excellent education from some of the prominent
leaders of the senatorial order. Groomed for Roman politics, Quintus’s ca-
reer paralleled Marcus’s, just a step or two behind: when Marcus served in
the elected office of praetor in 66 BCE, Quintus was elected plebeian aedile
for the following year; when Marcus held the consulship in 63 BCE, Quin-
tus was elected praetor for the following year. No doubt having a successful
brother blazing the trail made easier Quintus’s climb up the Roman ladder.
Their careers began to diverge a bit when Quintus left Rome as proprae-
tor to govern the province of Asia (western Turkey); when his turn for a
governorship had come, Marcus had given up the possibility of going to
Macedonia, instead switching with his colleague so that he could remain in
Italy (technically in charge of Cisalpine Gaul or northern Italy). Quintus,
however, seems to have jumped at the chance to leave the peninsula, and he
remained in his post in Asia for four years (61–58 BCE).
By the time of Quintus’s return, the Triumvirate of Crassus, Pompey,
and Caesar was in full-swing, and Quintus discovered that his brother was
in their crosshairs; in fact, the Triumvirs had arranged for the elder Cicero’s
exile, since he would not fully cooperate with their political schemes. The
younger brother Cicero was a collateral target, but he did not sit still; in-
stead, he really came into his own now by allying with the plebeian tribunes
who were fighting for his brother’s recall. Standing against the Triumvirs
and their henchman Clodius was not only exceptionally risky politically but
also downright dangerous, since Clodius freely employed armed gangs and
violence in the streets to stop his opponents’ efforts. Nonetheless, the recall
succeeded, in no small part thanks to the bold efforts of Quintus Cicero.
His position continued to be precarious, however. His brother was back
in Rome safely, but beholden to the goodwill of one of the Triumvirs, Pom-
pey, and it seems that Quintus was also expected to return this goodwill.
The elder Cicero supported Pompey in receiving an extraordinary com-
mand from the Senate, charge of Rome’s grain supplies from all across the
Mediterranean; Pompey needed experienced men to staff this project, and
Quintus was one of them. He was posted to the island province of Sardinia
181
as a legate (lieutenant) of Pompey and was apparently kept there for a while
to ensure his older brother’s cooperation with the Triumvirs.
The relationship Quintus had with such powerful men was not always
so compulsory, however, and especially with Caesar, it was more coopera-
tive. As far back as the Conspiracy of Catiline, he had disagreed with his
brother, who was consul at the time, and agreed instead with Caesar that
the co-conspirators who had been arrested in Rome should not be put to
death but rather imprisoned in the custody of various Italian towns. A de-
cade later, it seems that Quintus urgently sought to join Caesar’s military
staff in Gaul and that he persuaded Marcus to write to Caesar on his behalf.
Quintus made a name for himself in those years from 54 to 51 BCE, serving
as a legate on Caesar’s general staff.
In his own account of the wars in Gaul, Caesar frequently praises Quin-
tus; the latter came to be regarded highly by him especially because of
Quintus’s conduct and leadership during the revolt of Ambiorix, chief of
the Gallic Eburones, who inhabited what would today be called Holland.
This tribe, though nominally allied to Rome, had broken its alliance, am-
bushed and destroyed one Roman garrison, and then induced other tribes,
especially the Nervii (a mixed Gallo-German tribe) to the west, to do the
same and to join in a widespread uprising against the Roman legions, en-
camped in winter quarters peacefully in the territories of these seemingly
friendly tribes. The Nervii eagerly accepted the summons to rise up and
gathered forces from among themselves and from the warriors of five other
tribes dependent upon them. Joined also by the Eburones and Atuatuci,
their target was the Roman force under the command of Quintus Cicero,
who as yet had no idea what had happened to his comrades at the hands of
the Eburones.
While one of Quintus’s foraging parties was out gathering firewood and
timber for their encampment, the Gallic horsemen attacked and massacred
them. Then, they surrounded and furiously assaulted the small Roman fort.
Quintus sent off as many messengers as he could to inform Caesar of the
predicament, though none made it past the enemy. Ignorant of this, he
nonetheless carried on with the work of defense, ordering his men to make
sure the mound and palisade that protected them was solid and secure and
to build towers from which to watch and repel the enemy assaults. For sev-
eral days in succession, the Roman troops rushed out of the fort to prevent
the Gallic warriors from filling in the ditch dug around the camp; the Gauls
wanted to make their attacks on the fort that much easier by getting that
much closer to it. All this meant further exhaustion for a small Roman force
engaged not only in this constant skirmishing during the day but also in
maintenance of the fort itself and preparation of weapons during the night.
The men got no sleep; even the sick and wounded participated in these
efforts however they could, and their commander, Quintus, kept himself
182
going constantly, setting an admired example to his men, even though he

was in poor health and they begged him, in fact, to rest.
Soon, several envoys arrived from the Nervii, men whom Quintus had
trusted in the past, and who hoped he would trust them now, to negotiate
an end to the fighting. They spun out a prearranged, fabricated story about
how simultaneous these assaults on Roman camps were all over Gaul, in
fact how widespread this rebellion was that even Caesar was under siege,
how the Romans had no chance but to surrender, and how they had no
quarrel with Quintus and his troops except that they did not want Romans
to take up winter quarters in Nervian territory. They offered to safely escort
the Roman garrison out of their lands.
Quintus was too smart to fall for this ruse; he responded that Romans did
not agree to terms set down by hostile enemies still under arms. As a coun-
terproposal, he suggested they send word to Caesar with a polite appeal to
remove Roman forces from among the Nervii. The response was a regular
siege of Quintus’s camp, including, on one day, launching fire projectiles
into it; the Romans stood firm and resolutely fought back on that occasion
and several days more, while Quintus managed to smuggle a message out
to Caesar by way of a Gallic slave. Caesar reacted with his usual speed and
sent word to Quintus of the imminent approach of reinforcements. News
of Caesar’s coming pulled the Gallic warriors away from Quintus’s camp;
in their confrontation with the relief army, they were virtually slaughtered.
Caesar could not praise enough the steadfastness and courage of Quintus
Cicero and his men after touring the siege works and their own camp. In
his speech to all the assembled troops, he thanked them not only for their
great and gallant service but also for saving the honor of Rome, which had
been stained by the loss of the garrison to the Eburones.
So, while Marcus Cicero had become known for his eloquence, Quin-
tus Cicero had become known for his military abilities; his older brother
needed such skills when he found himself called upon to serve as gover-
nor of Cilicia in 51–50 BCE. Indeed, we may wonder if Marcus’s gover-
norship would have been as successful without his brother’s assistance
and expertise.
The brothers diverged again, however, when it came to the Civil War
between Caesar and Pompey. Despite having served Caesar so well and so
long in Gaul, or perhaps because of this service and the strategic knowledge
it afforded him, Quintus soon joined Pompey’s side, while Marcus hesi-
tated and indeed attempted to negotiate peace between the rivals; Quintus
fought against Caesar in the Battle of Pharsalus in Greece, while Marcus
did not. Caesar pardoned both brothers, however, and worked to heal the
breach that had developed between them.
After Caesar’s assassination, Quintus faded from view. Whether he and
his son of the same name (born 66 BCE) supported Marcus’s attempts to
183
Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE)
control and use Caesar’s great-nephew, Octavian, or Marcus’s nonstop ver-

bal attacks against Antony, is unclear. What is clear is that Octavian and
Antony thought of Quintus the Elder and Quintus the Younger as siding
with Marcus; like him, they were declared public enemies. The father and
his twenty-three-year-old son were captured with the help of their own
slaves and were executed in 43 BCE.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Bellum Gal-
licum (Caesar); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE);
Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Proscriptions; Provinces
Further Reading
Long, F. P. 2005. Caesar: The Conquest of Gaul. New York: Barnes and Noble, Inc.
Williams, W. G., M. Cary, and M. I. Henderson. 1985. Cicero, Volume XXVIII,
Letters to Quintus. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

In the Late Republic, the name of L. Cornelius Cinna became synonymous
with tyrant, making him a stereotyped figure in political propaganda. Cinna
did indeed execute prominent members of the Senate and monopolize high
elective office. His engagement (and that of his faction) in civil strife set the
pattern for the civil wars that later ripped the Republic apart. Yet, Cinna
also maintained peace and stability in a state damaged by civil wars and eco-
nomic crisis. He bequeathed to later generations of Romans an example
of a leader who could neutralize rivalries by conciliating as many interest
groups as possible. Not until the end of the Republic would Julius Caesar,
and then especially Octavian-Augustus, observe a similarly broad political
approach to rule.
Considering the impact he had on the politics and society of the Repub-
lic, historical information on Cinna is rather minimal; this is not surprising
when one takes into account that his political opponents either wrote or
influenced the writing of the historical accounts of the period in which he
lived. He came from one of the oldest and most distinguished of patrician
clans, the Cornelii. During the conflict between Rome and its rebellious
allies in Italy (the Social War), we know that Cinna held praetorian rank
within the Senate and served well as a major lieutenant commander (leg-
ate) to one of the consuls. He ran for a consulship himself in 88 BCE, despite
the disapproval of one of the sitting consuls, L. Cornelius Sulla; Sulla had
recently employed his own armed forces against the state to oust political
opponents, namely the famous general C. Marius, thereby breaking one of
184
Rome’s oldest taboos, and making many of Rome’s citizens uncomfortable

with his leadership. Cinna played on this discomfort and reached out to
various people whom Sulla’s high-handedness had alienated, such as sena-
torial rivals he had exiled, their relatives and friends, members of the eques-
trian order, and former Italian rebels who wanted to attain a larger role in
Roman politics.
Having been elected to serve as consul in 87 BCE, Cinna was at first kept
in check by his colleague, Cn. Octavius, who seems to have been beholden
to Sulla. Within a few months, however, Cinna embarked on a program
that Sulla certainly would have opposed (had he been in Rome instead of
Greece at the time), to arrange full and fair citizen rights for the Italian reb-
els who had capitulated to Rome during the Social War. In doing so, he was
taking a rather unorthodox step; in the past, proposals for reform of citizen
rights usually came from the plebeian tribunes, who had become famous
for such “radical” moves. To have a Roman consul, one of the highest of-
ficials of state, make such a proposal certainly would have given it much
greater clout but also would have marked that consul as a sort of “radical,”
or, to use the label from Julius Caesar’s time, a Popularis.
Prevented from moving this program by the vetoes of several conserva-
tive plebeian tribunes, representing the interests of those current citizens
who did not want to see a flood of new citizens overwhelming them at the
voting polls, Cinna apparently sanctioned a violent riot in the Forum to
turn matters in his favor; his colleague, Octavius, reacted with a counter-
riot that, in fact, drove Cinna and many of his supporters from the city,
leaving others dead in the streets. The civil strife that Marius and Sulla had
wrought on their fellow Romans in the previous year had happened once
again.
Whether Octavius had had authorization from the Senate, the so-called
SCU, to take action against Cinna is unclear. What is clear, though, is that
in the aftermath of the riots, the Senate certainly did treat Cinna as a hostis,
a public enemy, and replaced him with a suffect (fill-in) consul. The Sen-
ate decreed that Cinna should no longer be considered even a citizen, let
alone a consul, because he had left Rome endangered. In Roman custom,
a plebeian tribune might be excused for stirring up a riot among citizens,
claiming that he did so to defend the common people against the tyranny
of the aristocracy, but a consul had the special responsibility of protecting
all citizens and not taking such sides. Nullifying Cinna’s consular posi-
tion, however, was the Senate going too far. Such abrogation of imperium,
to use the technical terminology, had only taken place at the will of the
Roman voters when a Roman consul had engaged in misconduct on the
battlefield; such a charge could not credibly be leveled against Cinna, and
even his critics, like the orator Cicero, who lived through this crisis period,
regarded the Senate’s action as unconstitutional.
185
Cinna did not take matters lying down; instead, he traveled southward
toward the region of Campania, gaining allies along the way as he visited
cities where he had Italian supporters. Once in Campania, where the Social
War was, indeed, still going on, he appealed to some of the Roman troops
stationed there to help him regain his tarnished honor and rightful posi-
tion in Rome. According to the Greek historian Appian, the weeping Cinna
relinquished the formal symbols of his office and, as a private citizen, won
over the soldiers as fellow citizens, giving them, as voters, the credit for his
election, and attacking the Senate for its illegal overturning of the voters’
prerogatives. He won the troops over to his side to restore his reputation,
which also meant restoring their own sovereignty. Thirty-eight years later,
Julius Caesar would make quite a similar appeal.
With tens of thousands of troops behind him, including those raised by
Marius, who had returned from the exile into which Sulla had cast him,
Cinna and his lieutenants replayed Sulla’s march on Rome, outmaneuver-
ing Octavius and other commanders (including Cn. Pompeius Strabo, the
father of Pompey), laying siege to the city, and eventually compelling the
Senate to reinstate all of them to their rights and privileges. Afterward,
Cinna arranged the deaths of principal enemies and declared the absent
Sulla, for whom many of those enemies had fought against Cinna, as hostis.
Even critics of Cinna regarded the following three years as an era of
peace, despite the fact that he somehow managed his own election as con-
sul every one of those years, serving always with favorable colleagues. In
this, he was partly duplicating the career of the famous Marius, who also
had been reelected over and over again, contrary to custom. That had hap-
pened in a clear time of national emergency; perhaps, Roman voters in Cin-
na’s time felt that a similar state of emergency existed. It also appears that
Cinna stood as the champion of a coalition of political forces peculiar to
that moment in time. Some modern scholars have referred to it as a regime.
Yet, the historical evidence suggests that the Republic continued to func-
tion pretty normally; many members of the Senate, including some of the
highest-ranking, did not support Cinna or his faction fully, if at all. Cinna
could have imposed his will by maintaining divisions of the army within the
city to keep the population cowed, but he did not; he could have main-
tained a bodyguard to protect his own person, but he did not. Instead, with
his handful of senatorial comrades and the strong backing of equites and
new citizens throughout Italy, he seems to have worked within the system,
reaching out to the leaders of all major interest groups, to establish coop-
eration and stability. All of this must have been keenly watched by the teen-
age boy, C. Julius Caesar, whose uncle Marius had allied with Cinna, and
who himself had married, Cornelia, one of Cinna’s daughters.
Cinna also made it a point to station loyal troops and commanders in
Greece and Asia Minor, North Africa, Spain, and around the perimeter of
186
Italy itself, against the threats emanating from Sulla and his allies, men like
Q. Metellus Pius (future rival of Caesar) and M. Licinius Crassus (future
ally of Caesar), who vowed to destroy Cinna’s faction from their positions
across the empire. Other potential troublemakers, like the young Pompey,
were kept under surveillance closer to home. Trying to hold on to as much
support from the Senate as possible, Cinna, nonetheless, prepared for the
inevitable showdown with Sulla’s faction.
This showdown approached that much closer when Sulla completed his
military operations against the rebellious king Mithradates of Pontus (to-
day’s northeastern Turkey) late in 85 BCE. Playing the part of loyal Roman
commander, and champion of Rome’s “truly patriotic” citizens, he sent an
official report of his victories to the Senate, winning many over, and threat-
ening the rest with vengeance. Cinna began transporting soldiers across the
Adriatic into Illyricum (modern Albania) as early in the following year as
weather permitted to prevent Sulla’s army from invading Italy. While these
operations were under way, a mutiny erupted among Cinna’s forces in Italy,
many of whom refused to engage in any further Civil War; Cinna tried per-
sonally to calm the mutineers down and was rewarded for his trouble with
murder at the hand of one of his own soldiers.
The unexpected and sudden death of Cinna left other members of his
faction with authority in Rome and the task of raising enough troops to
counter Sulla’s fiercely loyal army, which arrived in Italy with the spring of
83 BCE. The Cinnans did possess the advantage in terms of manpower and
resources and employed these to fight tooth and nail against a very formi-
dable foe, whom they often came close to defeating; in the considerable
propaganda war waged by the two sides, they could pose as the defenders
of Italy, with Sulla as the invader and destroyer. The disadvantages, how-
ever, were too great to overcome. Sulla’s threats, promises, and bribes won
over the undecided, the fearful, and the wavering, especially within the di-
vided Roman aristocracy; under his spell, many delayed rising against him
until it was too late. Private armies, especially those of Crassus’s, Metellus
Pius’s, and Pompey’s, joined his to face off against the Cinnan leaders, Cn.
Papirius Carbo and Marius the Younger (first cousin to Caesar), further
complicating the battle maneuvers, tipping the balance against the Cin-
nans. Despite Sulla’s own well-treated, well-paid, battle-hardened troops,
he could not have turned the tide of battle in his favor without the victories
of his allies.
The brief career of Cinna demonstrated several very important truths of
the Late Republic. First, a private army loyal to its general instead of the
Roman State was not some weird fluke peculiar only to Sulla’s leadership
but had become a fundamental characteristic of the times; Sulla had cre-
ated a precedent, and Cinna replicated Sulla’s march on Rome with very
little difficulty, proving that the allegiance of Rome’s soldiers could be
187
had by promises of immediate gratification. Lepidus, Pompey, Caesar, and

Octavian would all go on to do the same. Second, the draw of the private
army undermined the stability and dependability of the official armies of
the state. During his siege of Rome, Cinna’s army grew in numbers, while
his opponents’ ranks shrank as a result of disaffection and desertions to the
other side. Of course, his own comrades experienced the opposite, when
many of their troops deserted to Sulla. Third, Civil War, Roman style, was
a struggle without much room for compromise. This was clearly demon-
strated by Sulla’s efforts at the fullest possible destruction of his Cinnan
enemies, on the battlefield, through proscription, execution (an estimated
50,000 to 80,000 lives were lost), confiscation of property, exile, and strip-
ping of citizen rights for the survivors, even for sons and grandsons of
enemies. The increasingly antagonistic and fragmented political world in
which Julius Caesar rose to prominence was truly born from the actions of
Cinna and the reaction against him and his faction; though Cicero feared
that Caesar would be “another Cinna,” that is, a bloodthirsty tyrant, Cae-
sar’s own famed mercy toward rivals seems to have developed directly out
of a revulsion against the atrocities he witnessed during the strife between
Cinnans and Sullans. Finally, the Italian allies of Rome had been mistreated
and deceived by the Senate for generations in an attempt to keep them
subject to Roman dominance in the peninsula, but only raising them to
the level of equals would bring long-lasting peace and greater strength in
ruling the empire. Cinna chose, whether out of principle or pragmatism,
to work with the former Italian rebels, bring them into the Roman system
as equals, and thereby acquire an enormous pool of support, both politi-
cal and military. This choice not only helped sustain his own power but
also definitely kept his faction strong enough to resist Sulla’s opposition
forces for two years; indeed, the final battle of the Civil War was in truth
a showdown, right outside the gates of Rome, between Cinna’s Samnite
and Lucanian allies and Sulla’s army. In the ensuing years, one might argue
that Cinna’s approach to citizenship and to the position of the Italians in
Roman politics had a definite impact on how Caesar later viewed exten-
sions of citizenship and how Octavian-Augustus implemented his policy of
tota Italia.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BC); Citizenship; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE);
Equites; Hostis; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE);
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Senatus Consultum Ultimum (SCU);
Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Lovano, M. 2002. The Age of Cinna: Crucible of Late Republican Rome. Stuttgart,
Germany: Franz Steiner Verlag.
188
Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE)

In Rome, family ties counted for quite a lot in politics. Yet, such relations
did not guarantee allegiance. A case in point is L. Cornelius Cinna the
Younger. Despite being the brother-in-law of Julius Caesar, he charted his
own course politically, sometimes in support of Caesar, sometimes vehe-
mently in opposition.
We know next to nothing about Cinna’s mother, Annia, except that she
remarried sometime after his father’s murder in 84 BCE to a man named
M. Piso, who, in turn, gave her up at the orders of the dictator Sulla when
the latter seized control of Rome in 81 BCE. Annia then disappears from
the historical record, not even to be mentioned in connection with her
son’s activities or those of her daughters, Cornelia the Elder, who married
Cn. Domitius Ahenobarbus, and Cornelia the Younger, who married Julius
Caesar.
Cinna’s father, on the other hand, L. Cornelius Cinna the Elder, was
never forgotten in the annals of Roman history, since he had fomented
a Civil War in Rome and held sway over the city, and much of the empire,
for a period of about four years. He served as a political and military model
for his sons-in-law, especially Caesar, and for his own son, at least in the
latter’s early career.
Cinna the Younger must have been at least in his early teens when his
father employed force against the state to defend his own rights (and in-
terests), and at least in his early twenties by the time his father’s faction
was overthrown by Sulla in yet another Civil War. Sulla placed the young
man’s name on the proscription list, the register of enemies, wanted dead
or alive, and so presumably Cinna fled Rome. There were few, if any, places
in Italy where he could have escaped detection by Sulla’s regime; probably,
he sought refuge with his father’s old ally, Q. Sertorius, who at the time
was establishing himself in Rome’s Spanish provinces as a base of opera-
tions against Sulla.
An opportunity to return to Italy presented itself in the latter half of
78 BCE, when one of the consuls, Lepidus the Elder, who had already been
stirring up political trouble as the champion of those who had been disen-
franchised by Sulla, then gathered an army of the discontented to launch a
coup against the state. Cinna the Younger emerged as one of Lepidus’s fol-
lowing, but the forces of the Senate crushed the rebellion, compelling the
Lepidani to flee, first to the island of Sardinia and then to Spain. Sertorius
welcomed them into his ranks, but his own “anti-Republic” there did not
survive another long period of civil strife. With the assassination of Sertorius
in 73 BCE, his remaining followers were desperate for some home to go to.
Around that time, between 75 and 70 BCE (probably closer to the lat-
ter date), a plebeian tribune by the name of Plotius proposed a bill to the
189
voters of Rome’s Plebeian Assembly authorizing the recall of political ex-

iles. The bill especially concerned those Romans who had joined the rebel-
lion of Lepidus but seems to have applied also to those who were part of
Sertorius’s following. Voting on bills in the Popular Assemblies took place
about three weeks after their proposition, during which time various lead-
ers had the chance to voice their opinions at informal gatherings of the vot-
ers, in an attempt to sway their decision one way or the other. Among those
who spoke most strongly in support of Plotius’s bill was Caesar.
Certainly, Caesar had already, publicly and quite rapidly, built up a rep-
utation for opposing the sort of government, à la Sulla the dictator, that
would exile its own citizens. He had barely escaped that penalty (or worse)
himself, only saved by relatives from being blackened with the same brush
that had tarred his uncle Marius and his father-in-law Cinna the Elder, and
so many of their comrades. So, political and personal considerations were at
play in Caesar’s speaking on behalf of Plotius’s bill, not least of which was
the fact that, if it passed, one of those exiles who would have been able to
come home was Caesar’s brother-in-law, Cinna the Younger. The bill did
become law.
Even though he was still prohibited from holding public office, as were
all the formerly proscribed and their sons and grandsons, the lex Plotia (Plo-
tian law) restored Cinna to his country and reunited him with his family, es-
pecially his sister, Cornelia. Their time together did not last long, however,
since she passed away in 69 BCE, probably around the age of thirty. Caesar
delivered a heart-felt eulogy in her honor, in public, not a common thing to
do for a young Roman woman in those days, but we hear nothing of what
her brother did in her memory. We can assume that he participated in the
funeral rites, but his exact role remains a mystery.
The deaths of spouses frequently dissolved the links between members
of Rome’s elite. Perhaps this happened between Cinna and Caesar on the
passing of Cornelia. They might have considered young Julia, probably
only four years old when she lost her mother, but Caesar was certainly not
a hands-on dad; he left the raising of his daughter to her grandmother,
Aurelia, a traditional sort of thing to do, and Cinna is not recorded as
having shown any strong avuncular interest in the child, again tradi-
tional, since uncles in Rome tended to bond with nephews not nieces. Be-
sides, within just two years or so, Caesar remarried, setting up new family
connections.
Still, Cinna owed his political career, delayed by almost two decades,
to Caesar. When the latter started his own Civil War and gained control
of Rome in 49 BCE, he arranged for a grant of full amnesty to all those
proscribed by Sulla and to their descendants; as a result, Cinna could pur-
sue public office. He reached the praetorship in 44 BCE, thanks, again, to
Caesar.
190
Yet, Cinna did not always agree with Caesar’s decisions. For example,
in that same year, Caesar deposed, and apparently exiled, two traditional-
ist plebeian tribunes, C. Marullus and L. Flavus, for removing a diadem
(a ceremonial wreath worn by kings in the Greek monarchies) from the
head of one his own statues; they had regarded its presence as an insult to
the “freedom of the Republic,” while Caesar regarded their action as an in-
sult to him, and even accused them of placing the diadem there themselves
to stir up animosity against him. As praetor, Cinna interceded with Caesar
on behalf of the two young men and eventually secured their recall, though
not their reinstatement.
About a month later, Caesar was dead, the victim of political assassina-
tion. In the days that followed, Cinna the Younger joined a number of
senators who came out in support of Caesar’s assassins, the Liberators, and
delivered speeches to that effect; several ancient authors, including the fa-
mous orator and statesman Cicero, suggest that Cinna was, in fact, one of
the Conspirators, but the evidence of his actions afterward leave the truth
of that implication up to debate. Cinna did speak in defense of the assas-
sination, but as if a spectator rather than a participant. Indeed, he made a
very theatrical show of it, even throwing away his praetorian robes right in
the middle of the Roman Forum as if they had been tainted by the hand of
Caesar, who had made it possible for Cinna to hold that office. For a man
who had been rescued from political oblivion by Caesar, Cinna showed
little sign of gratitude; indeed, he tore into his sister’s murdered husband
in the most bitter way and praised the action of the Conspirators as in the
tradition of Rome’s greatest heroes and deserving the highest honors. As a
result, Cinna earned the animosity of the Roman people; a couple of days
later, he was chased by people throwing stones and they almost set on fire
the house in which he took refuge.
After the debacle of a funeral that Caesar’s body received from the
crowds in the Roman Forum, many of them went looking for the Libera-
tors with murderous intent, and they went looking for Cinna as well, be-
cause of the words he had uttered against their beloved Caesar. Instead of
finding him, however, they found another man with almost the same name
(not that uncommon in ancient Rome), and hearing that name spoken and
mistaking him for their target, the angry mob grabbed and killed the man,
apparently by ripping his body apart, cutting off his head and parading
it on the point of a spear throughout the streets of the city. No one had
ever seen anything like that in all the history of Rome; after learning about
the incident, Brutus and the other Liberators wasted no time in escaping
the city.
The innocent victim, by the way, was C. Helvius Cinna, a famous poet
in his time and quite influential afterward in terms of the legacy of his writ-
ings. Ironically, he was a personal friend of Caesar and served as plebeian
191
tribune in the year of his murder, probably thanks to Caesar’s control of

the political machinery at the time. Helvius had hesitated going down to
the Forum for the funeral because of ill health and bad dreams, which many
Romans took very seriously as omens of the future. Despite his misgivings,
his respect for Caesar won out and he lost his life in the most gruesome
way because of it.
As for the brother-in-law Cinna, he seems to have worked with those
other senators who resisted the rising power of Caesar’s lieutenant, Marc
Antony, even refusing to accept appointment to govern a province since
that would tie him to Antony’s regime (for which refusal he received high
praise from Cicero, the moral leader of the resistance). By that time, he had
already married Pompeia, daughter of Caesar’s rival, Pompey Magnus; her
first husband, Sulla’s son Faustus, had died in 46 BCE during the Civil War,
and she probably married Cinna soon after, since their son, named Cn.
Cornelius Cinna Magnus, was old enough to throw in his support to Marc
Antony before the latter’s suicide in 30 BCE.
What happened to Cinna the Younger is mysterious. Some sources imply
his elimination by Antony, Octavian, and Lepidus during their proscrip-
tions in the fall of 43 BCE, while a man with his exact name is identified
as a consul later in 32 BCE. Considering how strongly Cinna had stood up
against Antony, though, and how much effort it took for the Empress Livia
to persuade her husband, Augustus (formerly Octavian), to later pardon
Cinna Magnus (regarded by the emperor as the son of a mortal enemy), it
seems unlikely that Cinna the Younger survived the proscriptions and es-
pecially unlikely that he was elevated to the position of consul in a Rome
controlled by his political enemies.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian family; Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Conspiracy
of the Liberators (44 BCE); Cornelia (d. 69 BCE); Dictator; Dreams/Dream
Interpretation; Exile; Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Mourning/Funerals; Names; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular
Assemblies; Rex; Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Clarendon Press.
Lovano, M. 2002. The Age of Cinna. Stuttgart, Germany: Franz Steiner Verlag.
Wiseman, T. P. 1974. Cinna the Poet. Leicester, UK: University of Leicester Press.
University Press.
192
Citizenship
Citizenship
Romans defined citizenship (civitas) as the possession of certain rights
(iures), the opportunity to obtain certain privileges (honores), and the per-
formance of certain duties (munera). Most important were the rights to
vote (suffragium), to hold public office (officium), to appeal in court (prov-
ocatio), to marry legally (conubium), and to trade legally (commercium).
Originally, only those born of Roman blood had citizenship, but as the Em-
pire of Rome expanded, citizenship in new and varied forms was extended
to allied and conquered populations as well. The history of the Republic,
down to Julius Caesar’s own time, can be told as the use of, demand for,
and struggle over Roman citizenship.
When Rome annexed almost the whole of Latium (modern Lazio in cen-
tral Italy) at the end of the Latin War in 338 BCE, instead of transferring the
conquered populations to Rome and resettling Romans on the conquered
territory, as previous Roman policy called for, the Senate and People of
Rome created a sort of confederacy in which separate treaties were signed
between each Latin community and Rome. The towns nearest to Rome
were granted the full citizenship rights of Romans, while towns farther
away were given Roman citizenship but without the right to vote or hold
public office (civitas sine suffragio), since these rights were made difficult
to exercise by physical distance from Rome. By the middle of the second
century BCE, even these communities were granted the full citizenship. In
this way, Rome gradually incorporated new populations into its political
“body,” sharing benefits and responsibilities to a carefully controlled de-
gree, creating a sense of common interest and cause with Rome instead of
alienation or complete inferiority.
As Roman power expanded further north and south in the Italian Pen-
insula, other populations became allies or conquered subjects of Rome.
These socii, as they were called, retained local autonomy (theoretically)
and received the rights of conubium and commercium with Romans; in ex-
change, they provided contingents of men to fight alongside the Roman
army. Any member of a socius community could move to Rome and apply
for full citizenship according to the right of the immigrant (ius migrandi).
For generations, the peoples of Italy felt the benefits of the various forms
of Roman citizenship, which fostered economic interchange and growth,
social harmony, and political stability. Allies and citizens fought side by side
against outside aggression, such as the Carthaginians during the First Punic
War of the early third century BCE.
During the Second Punic War with Hannibal (218–202 BCE), however,
the socii, the “second-class citizens” if you will, were increasingly provid-
ing more and more of the manpower for Rome’s campaign of expansion
and conquest across the Mediterranean; many of these allies, especially in
193
Citizenship
southern Italy, turned to Hannibal and had to be forced by Roman armies

to return to the fold. Still, Rome barely recognized even her loyal allies with
any rewards; as its power expanded beyond the peninsula, Rome tended to
keep the lion’s share of the spoils of war, especially tribute and territorial
gains, in its own hands. Meanwhile, its arrogance as a world power began
to manifest itself in tougher treatment of all its Italian allies, in greater in-
terference in their local affairs, and in greater demands placed upon them.
By the early second century BCE, all this contributed to the Romans largely
abandoning their practice of generously extending citizenship within Italy.
Many officials in the socius communities were prevented from becoming full
citizens and thereby members of the Roman ruling order by Roman prej-
udices and new laws against them, including alien expulsion acts that re-
stricted access to Rome for legal and illegal allied residents. “Second-class”
populations throughout the peninsula were feeling increasingly inferior and
deprived, perhaps best symbolized in the official decision of 167 BCE which
required them to continue paying the annual tributum or war tax while
freeing full Roman citizens from shouldering this burden. The “allies” also
continued to be expected to provide most of the troops who fought and
died for the cause of Rome’s empire.
Citizenship, thus, grew into a greatly desired commodity among the
“second-class” populations of Italy, something they recognized as ulti-
mately essential for political power, prestige, and equality in a world under
Rome’s unrivaled dominance. At least some Roman leaders also realized
the wisdom in extending citizenship rights. In 125 BCE, the consul M. Ful-
vius Flaccus officially proposed granting full citizenship to the socii, and
thereby inspired one of the most loyal of those communities, the Latin col-
ony of Fregellae, to rebel against Rome; the Senate responded by shipping
Flaccus off on a mission to southern France while the Roman army largely
destroyed Fregellae.
Nonetheless, Flaccus returned to the issue of citizenship in 122 BCE, this
time as only a plebeian tribune, and along with his colleague, the famous
Caius Sempronius Gracchus, tried to resume Rome’s generous policy of the
past through a gradual extension of full citizenship in stages; those commu-
nities which had demonstrated most devotion to Rome would be rewarded
first. Those senators who feared the entry into politics of a huge body of
new citizens tied to these radical tribunes opposed the bill and encouraged
the current citizens to oppose it as an open meal ticket for many outsiders
to infringe on the city’s (i.e., their) cheap food supply. Under such pres-
sures, the bill failed, and soon after, Gracchus and Flaccus lost their lives in
political violence.
In the wake of this, many Italians found ways to enroll illegally as citi-
zens, and many tried to find new Roman patrons to support their cause.
These included such famous plebeian tribunes as L. Appuleius Saturninus
194
Citizenship
(103 BCE), M. Livius Drusus the Younger (91 BCE), P. Sulpicius Rufus
(88 BCE), and the consul L. Cornelius Cinna (87–84 BCE). Each of them
suffered a violent death, in large part for their efforts to extend the citizen-
ship. Drusus had the most sensible plan, to incorporate the “first men of
the Italian communities” (many of whom were his personal friends) into
the Roman ruling elite and thus gain some stability in Italy; full citizenship
for the other Italian allies would follow. He was rewarded for this idea by
being mysteriously murdered in his own house.
The increasing demand for full citizenship from the “second-class” pop-
ulations of Italy, unsatisfactorily answered by the Senate and People of
Rome, sparked the very violent Social War of 91–87 BCE. Although some
allies remained loyal to Rome, like the Etrurians and Umbrians (of modern
Tuscany and Umbria), the vast majority of them rose up in revolt, seced-
ing from Rome’s dominion, setting up their own state, Italia, which, of
course, the Romans could not tolerate. Former battlefield comrades and
even family relations now set against each other, ripping apart the fabric of
the Roman State and devastating towns and villages across the peninsula.
The Italian socii, often regarded as barbarians by some members of the
Senate, revealed just how much like Roman citizens they had become in
their expertly concerted and implemented military efforts and in their well
conceived and organized political confederation, which looked like a dupli-
cate of Rome’s, only more just and egalitarian. Within about a year of the
war’s start, despite some Roman successes, the Senate decided to support a
proposal made by one of their battlefield commanders, the consul L. Julius
Caesar (a relative of the famous Julius Caesar and grandfather of Marc Ant-
ony), to grant full citizenship to loyal allies and to those who laid down their
arms by a certain date. The proposal, it was hoped, would bring the rebels
to surrender; most, however, did not, especially since they understood that
the new law was designed to restrict them in their voting rights, preventing
new citizens from outvoting old citizens, essentially nullifying majority rule.
The Social War continued, then, and merged with the civil strife of
88–82 BCE, during which the plebeian tribune Sulpicius and the consul
Cinna, noted briefly earlier, served as the chief spokesmen for the Italians and
fought against their Roman opponents for the full citizenship of the allies
and fair voting rights for them through their registration in the census and
inclusion in all the Popular Assemblies. The allies did receive these privileges,
legally, but the long and cumbersome process of registering each town or
village in a voting tribe and each voter in the Roman census classes only just
began under the government of Cinna and his faction and was further hin-
dered when their chief opponent, Sulla, launched a Civil War against them.
When Sulla emerged victorious, crushing large armies of Italian allies,
and became dictator in 81 BCE, he deliberately neglected to complete the
census begun by Cinna five years earlier, so only those very few new citizens
195
Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE)
who had been fully registered could actually exercise their vote; in addition,
he disenfranchised several towns as punishment for supporting the Cinnans.
Sulla’s political successors continued his policy of obstruction for nearly a
decade, until two of the most powerful, Pompey and Crassus, purely out
of the ambition of developing a large following of loyal voters, as consuls
in 70 BCE pushed the election of censors, who fully registered hundreds of
thousands of new citizens over the next eighteen months or so. In a sense,
the Social War finally came to an end.
Demands for Roman citizenship among those who did not possess it did
not stop there, though. In 65 BCE, Crassus, as censor himself, agitated for
the admission of the Transpadani, populations living in Italy between the
Padus (Po) River and the Alps, to full citizenship; the opposition of his
censorial colleague, Q. Lutatius Catulus, prevented success.
The up-and-coming Julius Caesar had supported the efforts of Crassus,
and during his time as governor in Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul (roughly
59–50 BCE) acquired many loyal clients by making grants of Roman citizen-
ship to Gallic nobles and warriors, based upon the precedent of battlefield
grants of citizenship made during the days of the Social War. As dictator
in the 40s BCE, he gave full citizenship to the Transpadani and full or par-
tial citizenship to loyal populations in the provinces and to many individu-
als from the provinces residing then in Rome. Caesar thus reestablished a
generous policy of extending Roman citizenship, rewarding devotion and
patriotism with legal rights and protections, which the later emperors of
Rome would continue until Emperor Caracalla, in 212 CE, extended full
Roman citizenship to all free inhabitants of the empire. That policy also
served as principal inspiration for the broadly inclusive American definition
and view of citizenship today.
See also: Army; Census; Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE);
Gaul Cisalpine/ Gallia Cisalpina; Populares; Taxation/Tax Farming
Further Reading
Salmon, E. T. 1982. The Making of Roman Italy. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University
Press.
Sherwin-White, A. N. 1973. Roman Citizenship. Oxford, UK: Oxford University
Press.
Stockton, D. 1979. The Gracchi. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

The Romans of the Late Republic did not hold the monopoly on am-
bition, despite the apparently overwhelming extent and power of their
196
Bronze coin with the profile of Cleopatra, minted perhaps early in her reign.
(Kenneth Garrett/National Geographic Society/Corbis)
empire. Indeed, a significant challenge to Rome’s complete domination of

the Mediterranean region came from the Hellenistic Kingdom of Egypt,
specifically in the person of its most famous queen, Cleopatra VII. When
she was but eighteen years old, on the death of her father, Ptolemy XII
Auletes, Cleopatra demonstrated her intention to rule her kingdom with
great strength of purpose, with or without the cooperation of her siblings,
and began down a path that would influence the future destiny not only of
her own realm but of the Roman Empire as well.
Cleopatra inherited the throne of Egypt in 51 BCE, but not alone; her
brother, Ptolemy XIII (six years younger than she), inherited power with
her. In typical Ptolemaic fashion, which attempted to imitate earlier Egyp-
tian customs, their father had declared in his will that his eldest son (Ptol-
emy XIII) and his eldest daughter (originally Berenice, but after her death,
197
Cleopatra) must rule together and marry one another. Like generations of
royal children in Egypt, both the Macedonians more recently and native
Egyptians in the more distant past, they ruled together to maintain the bal-
ance, as they saw it in nature, between male and female, and they married
to preserve the purity of the bloodline, believed to be divine in essence.
Cleopatra especially emphasized this in the associations she made between
herself and the Egyptian goddess, Isis, as well as the Greek goddess, Aph-
rodite.
The joint rulers of Egypt had major problems to contend with, not least
of which was grave discontent among their subjects in the capital city of
Alexandria, another inheritance from their father. Ptolemy Auletes had been
compelled to squeeze the Alexandrians exceptionally hard through taxes,
confiscations, and other means to pay off his debts to the Roman Empire.
His uncle, Ptolemy X, during a long and bitter feud with Auletes’s father,
Ptolemy IX, had, in fact, willed the entire kingdom of Egypt and all its de-
pendencies to Rome. His cousin, Ptolemy XI, had received recognition
from the Romans as the legitimate ruler of Egypt, thereby confirming that
they had a say in the political arrangements of the kingdom. The untimely
murder of Ptolemy Auletes’s cousin may have brought him to the throne,
but it did not release him from the watchful gaze of the Romans, who
threatened to annex Egypt as a province of their empire at one moment
and recognized him as a “friend and ally of Rome” the next. No wonder he
sent a copy of his own will to Rome, as a sign of continued loyalty to the
empire.
The only thing that really kept Auletes in power was the wealth of his
people, especially the Alexandrians, which he used to pay for the murder
of his detractors at home and to bribe officials at Rome, like Julius Caesar,
and generals in the provinces, like Gabinius. The latter actually made it pos-
sible for Auletes to return to Egypt from three years of exile into which the
citizens of Alexandria had driven him; that return cost them even more
wealth and the leader of their rebellion, Cleopatra’s older sister, Berenice,
who had worked against their father to rule the kingdom in his place and
paid the price through her own execution.
Cleopatra was only fourteen when her father was restored to his throne
in 55 BCE. She had thus spent her adolescence in a world of wandering
(from Egypt to Italy to Greece to Turkey, and back to Egypt); together
with her younger siblings, she had experienced a childhood darkened by a
cloud of turmoil and uncertainty. Yet, perhaps all of this contributed to the
development of a remarkable character and personality. The ancient sources
described Cleopatra as possessed of a strong will, fiercely intelligent, with
a gift for charming people and a voice that could mesmerize most listen-
ers (though apparently not the Alexandrians, as we will see) with its musi-
cal nuances and tones. Her physical beauty, not incomparable perhaps but
198
considerable, reinforced this, as did her exceptional education. Most, if not

all, of the women who had preceded her in the royal line had been quite
well educated, but she surpassed them in the level of her learning, master-
ing nine or more languages, taking time even to learn native Egyptian, for
example, which the Ptolemy family, like most Greeks in Egypt, regarded
as beneath their dignity to study.
Her education was also one that was gained by experience, however,
as noted earlier. By the time her father passed away in 51 BCE, the young
Cleopatra knew several truths about being a queen of Egypt: she would be
plagued by deadly family intrigue; she would face the resentment of the
Alexandrians; and she would have to placate the Romans.
The first two truths coalesced in the efforts of her brother-consort, Ptol-
emy XIII, to oust Cleopatra from power. In the ancient sources, his advi-
sors receive most of the blame for stirring up trouble between the royal
couple, and they may have, indeed, started that trouble, but surely the por-
trait of young Ptolemy reveals his very own youthful frustration with and
rebelliousness against his big sister and an ambition for greater power. He
agreed with the concerns his advisors had regarding Cleopatra’s own am-
bitions and where those might leave him and them. He played upon the
resentment of the Alexandrians when Cleopatra squeezed more money and
resources out of them to support the Roman general, Pompey, and his son,
Cnaeus, in a Civil War against Julius Caesar. Just two years into their joint
reign, brother and sister had a Civil War of their own to deal with, and
Cleopatra had been compelled to find refuge in the fortress of Pelusium,
on the border of Egypt and Judaea, where forces loyal to her cause made
their stand against those of Ptolemy XIII.
The third truth noted earlier, that of placating the Romans, soon came
to the fore once again, in the fall of 48 BCE, as first Pompey and then Cae-
sar arrived in Egypt, the former seeking assistance, while the latter sought
the former. Ptolemy’s ministers chose to placate Caesar by murdering
Pompey, which, in fact, had the opposite effect than they intended by
making the Roman general deeply suspicious of the young king and those
around him. He demanded funds from the kingdom to support his war ef-
fort and insisted on imposing Rome’s will upon the royal couple, ordering
them to cease hostilities and present themselves before him.
Though the young king and his advisors attempted to ingratiate them-
selves with Caesar, the twenty-one-year-old Cleopatra made by far the
deeper impression upon him; according to a famous story, she had herself
smuggled (to avoid assassination by her brother’s partisans) inside a laun-
dry bag (reinvented by later authors as a carpet) carried by a devoted slave
into the palace, where Caesar was headquartered. However she entered his
presence, certainly, Cleopatra had done her homework; she soon won Cae-
sar over by playing on his well-known weakness for women of attraction.
199
Despite his apparently genuine desire to effect a peace in Egypt that

should have pleased all interested parties (i.e., Ptolemy XIII, Cleopatra,
their brother, Ptolemy XIV, and their sister, Arsinoë IV), Caesar’s efforts
instead precipitated a renewed Civil War there in which he found himself
caught for nearly six months. At the conclusion of the conflict in the spring
of 47 BCE, with Ptolemy XIII dead and Arsinoë sentenced to exile (first in
Italy, later in Asia Minor), Caesar still appeared to respect Ptolemaic and
Egyptian traditions by ordering Cleopatra to rule with Ptolemy XIV (then
aged twelve) as her consort. In reality, he had established her power.
By that time, however, it was widely known in Egypt and beyond that
Cleopatra had developed a romantic relationship with Caesar (about thirty
years her senior). They spent months together after the fighting was over,
indulging in pleasure tours of the Nile River, among other things, even
though there was a Roman Civil War still to be concluded. Surely, the al-
lure of Cleopatra cannot be underestimated nor the “gravitational pull” ex-
erted by Caesar upon her. By the end of the year, when he was once again
off on campaign, she gave birth to a boy, Ptolemy XV, whom she claimed
was the son of Caesar and whom the Egyptians dubbed Caesarion (“Little
Caesar”).
In the summer or early fall of the following year (46 BCE), Cleopatra
came to Rome with her son to live as guests in one of Caesar’s villas on the
western side of the Tiber River and likely attended his triumphal celebra-
tions (in which her very sister, Arsinoë, was paraded as a prisoner). A letter
from Caesar’s fellow senator, Cicero, to their mutual friend, Atticus, dated
June 44 BCE, suggests that the visitors from Egypt stayed on in Rome for al-
most a full two years. Cleopatra’s brother-husband came along as well since
she had to keep him close to forestall any possible attempt at treachery on
his part. In his capacity as dictator, Caesar conferred upon Cleopatra and
Ptolemy XIV the honored title of “friend and ally of Rome,” just like their
father had received thanks to Caesar as consul over a decade earlier. Yet, a
year after their arrival, her brother was dead, murdered by poisoning (at her
instigation perhaps), replaced by her son as co-ruler.
Wagging tongues in the city disapproved of Cleopatra and especially of
her physically passionate and flagrant extramarital relationship with Caesar
(he, too, was also married at the time to Calpurnia, by the way); Cicero
wrote of his disgust with Cleopatra and her insolence. Regardless of gossip
and personal reactions, her relationship with Caesar and the time they had
spent together in her kingdom seem to have inspired in him some of his
most daring plans, such as remaking the port of Rome, diverting the Tiber
River, and digging a canal through the Isthmus of Corinth.
Departing for Egypt several months after Caesar’s assassination (March
15, 44 BCE), Cleopatra began to assert herself and her kingdom as inde-
pendent forces in the Mediterranean world. For instance, in 43 BCE, she
200
provided naval and financial assistance to the renegade Roman consul,

P. Cornelius Dolabella, who had played off Caesar’s assassins and Caesar’s
associates against one another for his own political benefit and ended up on
the Senate’s list of most wanted as a result; certainly, the Senate did not ap-
prove of Cleopatra’s support for him. In the following year, it was alleged,
she had thrown her support behind Cassius, one of the assassins of Caesar,
who governed Syria and much of the Roman East in opposition to Marc
Antony, Lepidus, and Octavian (adopted son of Caesar), the junta (we call
it the Second Triumvirate) that had recently seized control of Rome.
Of the three Triumvirs, Antony had the most direct contact with Cleopa-
tra, since he assumed administrative and military authority over the eastern
provinces of the empire. He may have met her for the first time a dozen
years before, when he served as prefect of cavalry for Gabinius, the general
who restored her father to the Egyptian throne. The fiery and self-confident
young Roman officer would have been twenty-eight and Princess Cleopa-
tra, fourteen. They must have encountered one another again when she
visited Rome as Caesar’s lover in 46 BCE; by that time, Antony was just
beginning his second marriage, to the politically active Fulvia, a Roman
woman remarkably similar to the Egyptian queen in terms of her abilities
and her interests. Five years later, in the aftermath of the Triumvirs’ vic-
tory over Cassius and Brutus, Antony forgave Cleopatra of her misguided
alliances with Dolabella and Cassius and began to court her much-needed
assistance for a projected campaign against the Parthian Empire of the Mid-
dle East. Also at that time, according to several ancient sources, he arranged
the murder of Cleopatra’s sister outside the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus,
where she had been kept in a sort of religious seclusion; Caesar had allowed
this “detention” for Arsinoë, after his triumph, at the urging of the Roman
spectators, who pitied her sorry state. Her death effectively removed the
last real threat to Cleopatra’s claim on the Egyptian throne.
Whether they rekindled old, buried feelings for one another or began to
create something brand new, Antony and Cleopatra then embarked upon
a storied relationship that has captured the popular imagination ever since
and placed them on a collision course with Octavian, his chief rival for
power in Rome. The latter feared the wealth and resources of Egypt at
Antony’s disposal, resented the competition for Caesar’s legacy represented
by Cleopatra’s son, Ptolemy Caesarion, and recognized Cleopatra’s own
ambition to restore Egyptian power in the eastern Mediterranean and pos-
sibly even the entire empire of Alexander the Great as a rival to Rome’s. To
promote his own cause, Octavian joined in (and, indeed, fanned the flames
of) the indignation against Cleopatra on the part of the Roman People,
who blamed her for Antony’s abandoning, first, Fulvia (who died about a
year after the affair began) and, later, Octavia, Octavian’s sister, whom Ant-
ony had married soon after for reasons of state.
201
Cleopatra was cast in the classic stereotype of the home-wrecker, made

even worse by the fact that she and Antony (despite his marriage to Octa-
via) openly pursued their clear feelings of love and passion for one another,
quite scandalous to the Roman sensibility, which valued affection and con-
cord in marriage over any stronger, deeper emotions. They seemed to go
almost everywhere together, shopping in the marketplace, travelling on
horseback side-by-side through the cities under his jurisdiction, and even
into battle zones, where they called his command tent their “palace.” They
played dice together, drank together, hunted together, and pulled comic
pranks together, even in disguise on the dark streets of Alexandria or nearby
Canopus. Antony welcomed Cleopatra’s involvement in his official duties
as judge and as presiding magistrate at religious festivals in the East, and
ordered his soldiers to inscribe her name as much as his on their shields as a
mark of loyalty. In every way, then, they treated each other as true partners,
and this also got under the skin of more conservative Romans.
Very soon into their relationship, Antony and Cleopatra had two chil-
dren together, the twins Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene (born in
40 BCE), whom Antony recognized as his without hesitation. Three years
later, Cleopatra married Antony in a grand Egyptian ceremony, a marriage
which Romans would not have recognized as legal (since it took place be-
tween a citizen and a non-citizen and, besides, he was still married to Octa-
via), but which nevertheless demonstrated throughout the Roman Empire,
and especially its eastern territories and beyond, their commitment to one
another. In the following year, the birth of their third child, named Ptol-
emy Philadelphus, seemed to seal this commitment, but so did Cleopatra’s
almost constant presence, motivated by her anxiety over Antony’s continu-
ing link to Octavia.
Both Cleopatra and Antony intended their marriage not only to cement
the emotional ties but also the political ties between them. For Antony,
this would have also signaled to the Parthian Empire the united strength of
the entire eastern Mediterranean frontier, including the allied kingdom of
Egypt (which substantially funded and provisioned his campaigns against
Parthia). For Cleopatra, the marriage signaled to her subjects that Egypt
was no longer dependent upon Rome but needed by Rome and, therefore,
on equal footing with Rome. Antony’s openness to Egyptian ways also il-
lustrated this, as he willingly joined Cleopatra in assuming the guise and
image of divinity (Osiris to her Isis) in official titulature, portrait paintings,
statues, and coinage. He carried an Egyptian-style dagger, often dressed
like an Alexandrian (the people of that city adored him), and sat upon a
gilt throne, just like the queen. To certain eyes, he had “gone native,” but,
in fact, Antony had added to his role as Roman general the traditional ele-
ments of Near Eastern ruler, to the great pleasure of Cleopatra herself and
her people.
202
Antony also fed Cleopatra’s ambition to reconstitute the empire of Al-

exander the Great. Even though he (really they) had only marginal success
against the Parthians, whose conquest would have brought ancient Meso-
potamia (modern Iraq) and Persia (modern Iran) back into the mix, he
did officially declare their six-year-old daughter queen of Cyrene (eastern
Libya today), their two-year-old son king of Syria and all territory south
to the borders of Egypt and west to the borders of Greece, and their six-
year-old son king of Armenia and all territories eastward to the borders of
India. This last may have been a claim of wishful thinking under the cir-
cumstances, but Cleopatra and Antony were not done with their campaign
against the Parthians, and it was a coincidence not unnoticed that this son
held the name of Alexander. Just as significant, when Antony recognized
Caesarion as “King of Kings” and Cleopatra as “Queen of Kings,” he was
appropriating for them the old titles of the Persian Empire, which had
earlier been appropriated by Alexander the Great. These so-called Dona-
tions of Alexandria in 34 BCE, orchestrated by Antony and presided over by
Cleopatra (in all the splendor of silver and gold accoutrements in the guise
of Isis), heralded to the world that Cleopatra’s family, tied to her husband
Antony (who would have ruled “only Greece” under these arrangements),
had taken up Alexander’s legacy.
Not everyone in the East, Roman officials or native potentates, appre-
ciated this increase in Cleopatra’s prestige and power. Among them was
Herod, king of Judaea, thanks to Antony, compelled to hand over valuable
territory to Cleopatra and to bribe her to maintain the rest. A particularly
harsh tradition grew up among the Jews about Cleopatra, as evidenced by
Josephus, the Jewish historian of a hundred years later, who alleged that
the Egyptian queen demanded that Antony carry out executions of inno-
cent men throughout the region for her own aggrandizement. This seems
far-fetched even for Cleopatra; her desire to re-create Alexander’s empire
was enough to precipitate the negative reaction toward her from Herod
and other petty rulers who had their own, independent ambitions in the
East. On the other hand, it is not far-fetched to believe that Herod advised
Antony to kill her, because this fits well with Herod’s infamous reputation.
All this simply played into the hands of Octavian, who cast Cleopatra as
the foreign whore that had captivated a Roman general and turned him
against his better nature, his country, and his allies. In reality, the struggle
for the hearts and minds of citizens and subjects across the Mediterranean
world was one between equally power-hungry individuals, whether Octa-
vian and Antony, or Octavian and Cleopatra; she certainly had just as much
right to pursue her own ambitions as did the so-called son of Caesar, and
her goals were no more immoral than his and no less grasping. Still, since so
many within the Roman army and aristocracy had fondness for Antony, Oc-
tavian had to target Cleopatra as the “bad guy” and demonize her as much
203
as possible, and this comes through clearly even in sources written hun-
dreds of years after the fact, with their frequent references to her witchcraft
and her enslavement of Antony. Such sources speak of her unbridled desire
to rule Rome eventually (“to dispense justice from the Capitol”), perhaps
true, but, even if so, not such a bad idea in reality. She would have proven
a terrific queen of the Roman Empire.
As war between Rome and Egypt ensued, Cleopatra accompanied Ant-
ony to Greece to make their stand against Octavian with their fleet and their
ground forces. She played a vital role in the day-to-day decisions made by
her husband and his general staff. Unfortunately, such involvement alien-
ated several of his lieutenants, who deserted to the enemy as a result. Mean-
while, the forces of Octavian gradually bottled up those of Antony and
Cleopatra in the harbor and environs of Actium, turning the campaign into
one of attrition. After some months of ineffectual cavalry and naval skir-
mishes in the heat of late summer, as supplies dwindled and disease spread
through the ranks, the queen strongly recommended a strategic withdrawal
from Greece and regrouping in Egypt. Antony incorporated this into his
final battle plan, by which he amassed his fleet in dense formation to break
through the enemy blockade and out of the harbor into the open sea.
For a long time, the ensuing, fiercely contested sea fight guaranteed no
victory to either side. Then, Cleopatra, according to the ancient tradition,
panicked and fled the scene with her contingent of Egyptian warships; we
really do not know her reasons, since the evidence is universally hostile
against her on this point. Whatever the cause, her action started a chain re-
action, as Antony ordered his flagship to follow hers and other vessels did
the same, their crews fearing some legitimate reason for the retreat of their
leaders, while other crews continued the bitter struggle until dying or sur-
rendering to Octavian.
Cleopatra and Antony parted ways in southern Greece, the queen, fear-
ing a potential uprising in Egypt, making haste by sea to return and secure
her position there, while Antony sailed across to North Africa, failing to
win the support of the Roman governor. The struggle, in their minds, was
clearly not over, and Cleopatra further demonstrated this by gathering to-
gether vast amounts of wealth to fund a renewed campaign against Octa-
vian and executing prominent Egyptians who stood in the way of that.
Cleopatra and Antony considered many options for continuing the war;
she even tried to lull Octavian into a false sense of security by sending him
the royal scepter, crown, and throne, as if she had handed her kingdom
over to him (which, of course, she had not). For his part, Octavian secretly
promised to go easy on the queen and her country if she arranged the
elimination of Antony, while publicly he declared his determination to strip
her of her armed forces and her realm. In response, Antony offered up his
own life to Octavian in exchange for Cleopatra’s, while she attempted to
204
bribe Octavian with offers of vast sums of wealth. She also made it known
that the huge treasure she had collected behind the strong walls of her
own tomb would be destroyed by fire, at her orders, should Octavian not
compromise.
After nearly a year of this sort of thing, in the summer of 30 BCE, forces
loyal to Octavian invaded Egypt from west and east. Antony bravely at-
tempted to resist those armies with his own; Cleopatra, according to some
hostile accounts, undermined his efforts at every turn. With his fleet of
ships either captured, destroyed or given up and his infantry defeated in
battle, Antony received a message from Cleopatra which seemed to his de-
jected mind to suggest that she had taken her own life while holed up in her
tomb. He reacted by stabbing himself in an attempt to commit suicide. In
fact, Cleopatra was still alive; some accounts insist that she had deliberately
tricked Antony into killing himself so that she could more easily negotiate
with the victorious Octavian, while others suggest that Antony had misun-
derstood her message. Regardless, attendants carried his body to her tomb,
where the two were briefly reunited before his passing.
His death left Cleopatra with tough choices to make. Captured in her
own tomb by Octavian’s envoys, she tried to negotiate with him, for the
sake of herself and her children, even, it was said, employing her many
charms to entice him to make terms. In a theatrical display of great emo-
tion, she reminded Octavian of the affection in which Caesar had held her
and which she had reciprocated, even sharing the contents of passionate
letters with him. This must have been extremely difficult for such a devoted
mother as Cleopatra, since she knew that Octavian had ordered the execu-
tion of her seventeen-year-old son, Caesarion, who had attempted to es-
cape via Ethiopia to India. Her efforts with Octavian failed to move him,
however. He treated her with great courtesy and encouragement but only
to keep her alive and well, since he sought nothing more than to parade her
through the streets of Rome in his victory celebration and to seize all her
treasures and her kingdom for himself.
The Queen of Kings had no intention of gratifying that perverse desire.
Carefully watched by Roman guards, Cleopatra, nonetheless, stealthily ar-
ranged her own suicide, pretending that she had given up any intention of
taking her own life, lulling the Romans into a false sense of her acceptance.
By the time they discovered what had happened, Cleopatra was dead from
some form of poison (perhaps administered by pinprick, perhaps by snake-
bite; even the ancient authors could not say for sure), together with her
closest attendants, who had arrayed her in all the finest clothing and the
symbols of Egyptian monarchy. Octavian could do nothing (though he did
try to revive her). At least he had the decency of granting the last wish of
both Cleopatra and Antony, that they be buried together in her royal tomb
with all appropriate honors.
205
In the aftermath of Cleopatra’s death, her surviving children became

display items in Octavian’s triumph and wards of the state handed over to
his sister Octavia to raise. The young Cleopatra Selene became a pawn in
Octavian’s international game of politics by marriage, united with Juba II,
the new king of Mauretania (modern Morocco and western Algeria) some-
time between 25 and 20 BCE. Scholars have suggested that her brothers
accompanied her, but we hear nothing more about them. The new queen
Cleopatra tried to live up to her mother’s memory by creating in Maureta-
nia an Egyptianized high culture in the arts, religion, and learning; her son,
Ptolemy, carried on that legacy until his execution by the Roman emperor
Caligula in 40 CE.
The kingdom that Cleopatra VII and her family members had fought
to reclaim from others and fought over among themselves found itself ab-
sorbed into the Roman Empire, exactly the fate feared by the people of
Egypt for generations. Rome’s allies in the region also benefited, especially
Herod of Judaea, who received Egyptian holdings both north into Lebanon
and south into the Sinai Peninsula. Cleopatra had done her very best to avert
all this and, indeed, had restored the kingdom to a pinnacle of prominence
that it had not held since the late third century BCE. Despite all her strategic,
cunning, passionate, and intelligent efforts, as well as her spell-binding per-
sonality, Fortune, it seems, had simply turned against her in the end.
See also: Alexandria; Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Ant-
ony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Caesarion (47–30 BCE); Cassius
(ca. 85–42 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Egypt; Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE);
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE); Ptolemy XIII
(d. 47 BCE)
Further Reading
Press.
Press.
Ltd.
nesota Press.
206
Cleopatra (Film 1963)
lishing.

Perhaps among the two or three most accurate Hollywood motion pictures
in its portrayal of ancient history, Cleopatra covers the life story of its title
character from the arrival of Julius Caesar in her kingdom of Egypt through
her suicide there seventeen years later. Developed for the screen from a
novel written by author C. M. Franzero, the film’s strength comes from its
close adherence to the ancient sources, including the history by Appian of
Alexandria and the biographies by Suetonius and Plutarch.
Elizabeth Taylor in the title role of the film Cleopatra (1963), with Rex Harrison as
Julius Caesar. (Photofest)
207
The action begins with a scene of the battlefield of Pharsalus in the af-
termath of Caesar’s victory there over the forces of his chief rival, Pompey.
The character of Caesar (portrayed by British actor Rex Harrison) surveys
the carnage and insists that his enemies wanted it this way, not he, making
sure that his slave-scribe takes down those words for posterity (some of the
most famous words in Roman history). He scolds and threatens Pompey’s
officers, but then pardons them; he recognizes Marc Antony for his role in
the victory, sending him back to Rome to take charge there; and then pro-
ceeds in pursuit of the fugitive Pompey to Egypt, where King Ptolemy and
Queen Cleopatra are themselves at war. Much of this rings very true histor-
ically; for the purposes of the film, the entire scene serves to communicate
one of its key underlying themes, the prevalence of Civil War.
The arrival of the character of Caesar in Egypt demonstrates the re-
nowned presence of mind, self-confidence, and self-control of the historical
Caesar; in addition, even the Egyptian leaders accurately understand him to
be the “master of the unexpected.” The interplay between them and himself
underscores several of Caesar’s prejudices, as well as his personal revulsion
at their murder of Pompey, the volatility in the personality of young Ptol-
emy XIII, and the role of Rome in Egypt’s internal affairs. Direct quotes
from the ancient evidence, such as Theodotus’s remark that “dead men
don’t bite,” again prove the attention to detail of the screenwriters. On the
other hand, Caesar’s entourage includes figures it should not, such as a
young officer named Germanicus (decades before such a name was given
to any Roman) and an older officer named Agrippa (the childhood friend
of Caesar’s great-nephew, Octavian, who would, therefore, only have been
about seventeen at the time and not an officer of Caesar’s).
The colorful arrival of Cleopatra (played by American actress Elizabeth
Taylor) in Caesar’s presence, smuggled in a “magic carpet” as he says (in
reality, it was more like a laundry bag), brings in another key theme of the
film, her ambition not only to rule her kingdom without her brother’s in-
terference but also to play a larger role on the world stage, to restore the
“dream of Alexander the Great.” (We do not know if Caesar visited the
tomb of Alexander, as his character does later in the film, but certainly
the real Cleopatra had in mind that someone, together with herself, ought
to take up the “dream.”) The dramatic repartee between the two charac-
ters allows us to see the historical differences between them (his sense of
authority in Egypt and her rejection of that; her belief in her own divin-
ity as Isis reincarnated and his skepticism about religion; his griefs and her
strengths).
Afterward, as Cleopatra spies on Caesar from a peephole in the palace
wall, we learn how the Romans actually characterized her (always ambiva-
lent, recognizing her extraordinary abilities but casting them as “too mas-
culine” for a woman) and the struggle faced by Caesar from the continuing
208
affliction of epilepsy (an illness with which the character Cleopatra later
assists him and by doing so gains his trust). Caesar’s visit to Cleopatra’s
chambers reinforces the “orientalist” prejudices the Romans really had to-
ward Egypt and the ruling family of the Ptolemies at that time, as does their
confrontation later over the destruction of the Library of Alexandria caused
by the fire Caesar’s soldiers unleashed in the harbor of the city. The charac-
ter of Cleopatra, forceful and determined, disregards the failings of her an-
cestors, as Caesar harshly recounts them, and refuses to accept that Roman
conquest means the end for Egypt’s future. This rings true to the historical
Cleopatra at least in overall manner and attitudes, even if the details of the
conversation have been invented.
The film does a good job of illustrating the formalities involved in Cae-
sar’s decision to support Cleopatra’s rulership over Egypt and the elimina-
tion of her brother and his cohorts, even though the historical events are
telescoped into one scene. Her coronation ceremony introduces another
key theme of the storyline and history, the negative reaction of more con-
servative Romans (represented by Agrippa here) to the acceptance of any
Egyptian customs among their own people; later in the film, the charac-
ter of Octavian (played by British actor Roddy McDowall) will use such
“Egyptianizing” in his propaganda war against Marc Antony, just as the
historical Octavian did.
The appearance of the character of Marc Antony (played by British actor
Richard Burton) marks the first appearance of the city of Rome itself in the
movie. There, he meets Caesar’s wife, Calpurnia, to discuss Caesar’s “mar-
riage” to Cleopatra (an inaccuracy) and the birth of their child, Caesarion.
The character of Antony also displays the personal charm around women
and tendency to drink noted about the real Antony in our historical evidence.
Oddly, it is Antony who decides to invite Cleopatra to visit Rome with
her young son (in fact, it would have been Caesar’s invitation). Her gran-
diose procession into the city (found in no recorded sources) completely
dwarfs the triumphal parade of Caesar (who actually celebrated five mag-
nificent ceremonies). Whether Caesar ever recognized the boy Caesarion
remains a debated point among scholars, but the screenwriters showed no
doubts and even placed him at the baby’s birth when the historical Caesar
would have been many miles away at the time. Later, they show him teach-
ing Caesarion, even at a young age, how to rule with strength and decisive-
ness (which did likely happen during Cleopatra’s long stay at Caesar’s villa
outside Rome). Caesar’s character has become more ruthless, as it seems to
have done in historical reality, by that point. The demands Rex Harrison’s
Caesar makes on the Roman Senate, that he have full powers to rule the
empire and that he be declared “Emperor of Rome,” though exaggerated
and anachronistic, are also accurately explained by his remark that he has
“carried the sword too long.” Many scholars agree that Caesar’s prolonged
209
exposure to supreme command in warfare produced in him authoritarianism

not characteristic of his earlier life and not easy for him to let go of later on.
Other senators begin to make an appearance once the setting has shifted
to Rome. The character of Cicero, for instance, illustrates well the fears
and warnings of that famous orator and statesman regarding the accumu-
lated powers of Caesar. Cassius’s hostility toward tyrannical behavior comes
through his character, who sees the hollowness in Caesar’s claim of being
“a humble man anxious to serve.” The character of Brutus displays the
conflicted feelings of and the pressures placed upon the real Brutus as he
struggled with the decision to eliminate Caesar. Finally, the character of
Octavian (who should actually have been in Greece at the time) admirably
captures that young man’s cold, ruthless personality and his pretence to ex-
treme virtuosity.
The demise of Caesar, as in the ancient sources, is heralded in the movie
by ominous weather, nightmares, and portents; surrounded by the gloom,
the Conspirators, headed properly by Cassius, finalize their plot. Both Cal-
purnia and Cleopatra share similar fears over Caesar’s fated visit to the Sen-
ate on the Ides of March, and Caesar dismisses their superstition equally.
From that point on, the film follows the historical sources ever more
closely in its depiction of Caesar’s assassination, the development of the
relationship between Antony and Cleopatra from business arrangement to
deep love, the struggle between Antony and Octavian motivated by the lat-
ter’s overweening desire to be the “next Caesar,” their war of propaganda
and Cleopatra’s responses, Antony’s fatal mistakes in the actual Civil War,
and the tragic endings of himself and Cleopatra.
The movie Cleopatra contains some historical inconsistencies, like those
noted earlier, and some glaring gaps, such as the minimal treatment of Cae-
sar’s six-month-long war for control of Alexandria (which almost cost him
his life and his power in the empire) or the total absence of Antony and
Cleopatra’s children (who factored so much into the politics and propa-
ganda of the time period). Yet, watching the film also reminds us how rich,
accessible, intriguing, and complex a motion picture can be produced with
a very considerable reliance on the historical evidence.
Caesarion (47–30 BCE); Calpurnia; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Egypt; Egyptians; Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Ptol-
emy XIII (d. 47 BCE); Senate
Further Reading
Press.
210
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE)
Santas, C. 2008. Epic in Film. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers.
Wyke, M. 1997. Projecting the Past: Ancient Rome, Cinema, and History. London
Clients. See Patrons and Clients

P. Claudius Pulcher, more commonly referred to as P. Clodius Pulcher,
is one of the most maligned and yet one of the most influential figures in
the history of the Late Roman Republic. He was a leader of men, a dema-
gogue, the chief instigator of violence within the city of Rome, and a loose
cannon whom Julius Caesar and other members of the Senate utilized for
their own purposes but found difficult, if not impossible, to control.
A member of a very old Roman family of the patrician order (i.e., his
ancestors could trace their lineage back to the earliest days of Rome itself),
Clodius was the son of App. Claudius Pulcher, an ally of Sulla in the civil
wars of the late 80s BCE. This should have made his son a supporter of the
Optimates, those senators who believed they were carrying on the more
principled and conservative aspects of Sulla’s policies. Instead, Clodius ap-
pears to have decided to make his career, at least at first anyway, by breaking
the backs of Sulla’s allies.
For instance, in 68 BCE, Clodius was serving under the command of pro-
consul L. Licinius Lucullus in a very successful campaign in eastern Asia
Minor against the kings Mithradates VI of Pontus and Tigranes II of Ar-
menia. Lucullus’s soldiers, war-weary after six years of hard fighting and
angry with their commander for his strict discipline (he would not allow
them to loot towns and villages they had captured), followed Clodius (then
about twenty-four years old) when he fomented a mutiny against Lucullus,
thereby immobilizing (and actually reversing temporarily) the entire war ef-
fort and paving the way for Lucullus’s forced retirement from military ser-
vice. Lucullus was not only one of the most prominent of the Optimates,
but he was also Clodius’s own brother-in-law; Clodius would not allow any
ties, not even those of family and marriage, stand in the way of taking down
an opponent, making a name for himself, and gaining greater popularity
with the common man, in this case, with rank-and-file soldiers.
Two years later, Clodius turned on another famous former Sullan
(though certainly not an Optimate) by the name of Catiline; after serv-
ing his term as governor of the province of Africa, Catiline came home in
66 BCE to a charge of provincial misgovernment, a charge leveled by Clo-
dius. Despite Cicero’s claim (and he was an enemy of both Catiline and
Clodius, so his strong bias must be taken into consideration) that Clodius
211
in fact helped Catiline beat the charge, the indictment hindered Catiline
from standing for the consulship of the following year, damaging his politi-
cal career, and thus kicked off the sequence of events that led Catiline to
devise a major plot of revenge against the entire Roman State.
Clodius, it seems, had been building himself up as champion of the com-
mon people in his attacks both on Lucullus and on Catiline; he was prob-
ably in favor of seeing Catiline fall so that he himself could pick up the
latter’s mantle as a populist, and there is no evidence to suggest that Clo-
dius was in any way involved in Catiline’s conspiracy, despite his later pas-
sion for violence in politics. It even seems that Clodius was on good terms
with Cicero, the conservative consul who had foiled Catiline’s schemes.
But Clodius seems also to have had a taste for doing risky, clandestine
things, the sorts of things that other Roman senators would have consid-
ered highly improper for a member of their order. In May 61 BCE, for in-
stance, witnesses implicated him in a sort of sex/sacrilege scandal during
the exclusively female festival of the Bona Dea (December 62 BCE). He
hoped that Cicero would back up his claim that he was elsewhere at the
time of the alleged incident; instead Cicero’s testimony demolished Clo-
dius’s alibi; he would have been punished had it not been for one of his
patrons, M. Licinius Crassus, who paid off the jury to acquit Clodius.
A man of strong passions and a deeply Roman sense of honor, Clodius,
who had already effectively ruined the careers of Lucullus and Catiline, now
turned his energies to destroying Cicero’s. He determined to do this by
bringing Cicero to book for “murdering,” as Clodius put it, Catiline’s co-
conspirators. The only avenue that seemed open for accomplishing this was
to haul Cicero before the Plebeian Assembly, but, as a member of a patri-
cian family, Clodius was not permitted to do so. He, therefore, tried several
times to renounce his patrician status in favor of adoption into a plebeian
family (a perfectly legal possibility, if one could find a plebeian sponsor);
he could not get proper support for this, however, until Julius Caesar ex-
pressed his willingness to help.
Cicero had refused to join the political coalition formed by Caesar, Pom-
pey, and Crassus, and indeed stood pretty openly against them; he had to
be removed from the political scene, and Clodius was the man who could
(and wanted to) get the job done. In 59 BCE, Caesar, in his capacity as
Pontifex Maximus, backed up by Pompey and his veteran troops, brought
P. Claudius Pulcher (remember that it was Clodius’s real name) before the
thirty-man Curiate Assembly, which had official jurisdiction over adoptions.
That body legally arranged for Claudius to be adopted by a distant plebe-
ian branch of the family who spelled their name Clodius. Not long after, he
stood in the elections for plebeian tribune and won one of the ten spots.
Early in his term (December 58–December 57 BCE), Clodius put through
a vague law outlawing any person who had put Roman citizens to death
212
without due process. Cicero knew against whom this law was targeted; in-
stead of waiting, he went into voluntary exile. Afterward, Clodius worked
in the Plebeian Assembly to banish Cicero particularly and formally; then,
he confiscated the latter’s property and burned down the latter’s mansion
in the city of Rome.
Clodius also worked for the Triumvirs against M. Porcius Cato, probably
their chief opponent in the Senate and the leading Optimate. He proposed
to send Cato on a special mission to integrate the recently acquired prov-
ince of Cyprus into the administrative apparatus of the empire; Cato duti-
fully obeyed the “will of the People.”
The Triumvirs did not seem to immediately realize that a new problem
had taken the place of Cicero and Cato, that in promoting Clodius as their
chief henchman they had created a monster. Not only did he attack their
enemies, but he also attacked them. He openly criticized Caesar’s laws as
sacrilegious and unconstitutional; he prosecuted several of Pompey’s asso-
ciates and even made threats against Pompey’s life. Having allocated free
grain to all adult males on the list of Romans who should receive grain at
a discount (a sort of welfare food program developed by the plebeian tri-
bune C. Gracchus in 122 BCE), Clodius cultivated a huge popular follow-
ing. When Pompey tried to reduce the list of recipients, Clodius prevented
him by allegedly burning the records; now many more men could claim
free grain from the government, with Clodius’s support. The tribune also
hoped to acquire broad backing for his actions by passing through a law
that protected the rights of collegiae, popular associations or clubs. Clodius
welded into armed gangs many such groups to disrupt and influence the
politics of Rome. In all these ways, he demonstrated his independence from
the Triumvirs and his tremendous political strength.
Clodius did have opponents who were willing to fight fire with fire,
however. For instance, the plebeian tribunes T. Annius Milo and P. Sestius
raised their own gangs in the Roman Forum to compel the recall of Cicero
from exile in 57 BCE. Their street fighting with Clodius’s gangs paralyzed
the city, and Milo thus attempted to postpone the elections of that year, so
that Clodius would not be able to stand for the aedileship of the following
year. Many senators successfully resisted Milo’s moves, however; they felt
that the affront to Clodius’s honor by the recall of Cicero was enough to
pull Clodius back into line.
Such was only wishful thinking, for Clodius continued to use violence in
the streets and in the assembly, attempting, as aedile, to bring Milo to trial
for his use of violence in the city; the real issue, naturally, was Milo’s sup-
port for Cicero, and attacking Milo, who was allied to Pompey, also pro-
vided a platform from which to attack Pompey. Clodius could never get
the trial against Milo off the ground, however, though he did prosecute
Sestius on the same charge. Cicero’s speech in defense of Sestius became
213
an Optimate manifesto and castigated Clodius and other “false” Populares;

Sestius was acquitted and Clodius’s senatorial supporters began to abandon
his cause.
Clodius and Milo escaped conviction for their disruptive behavior, and
both moved up the cursus honorum, though sluggishly; the Senate did pre-
cious little to stop either of them. Meanwhile, Caesar managed to rein in
Clodius a bit; the latter employed his forces to help both of Caesar’s part-
ners, Pompey and Crassus, to win election as consuls for 55 BCE. They did
very little to curb the violence in Rome. Pompey refused to turn on his
henchman, Milo, and Crassus apparently backed Clodius simply to counter
Milo. In the meantime, their armed gangs caused more havoc, stuffing bal-
lot boxes, rigging votes, barricading the entrances and exits to the political
assemblies, and harassing voters. In these ways, they delayed the consular
elections over and over again for almost two years, and when normal elec-
tions finally did take place (summer 53 BCE), they prevented anyone from
actually getting elected.
By that point, Crassus had been killed on his campaign against the Par-
thians and Caesar was away in his province of Gaul; the only Triumvir on
site in Rome was Pompey, and he did nothing, allowing matters to get
worse and worse so that the Senate would be compelled by necessity to
grant him extraordinary powers to restore order. He might even have been
secretly encouraging Clodius.
Then, on January 18, 52 BCE, Milo and Clodius encountered each other,
along with a number of their respective followers, about eleven miles out-
side of Rome on the Appian Way (the main highway leading southward
out of the city). In the confrontation that soon and inevitably took place,
Clodius was wounded and then killed, and Milo assumed the credit for it.
When news of Clodius’s death reached Rome, riots broke out, spurred by
his supporters; they built up a funeral pyre for Clodius’s corpse in the Sen-
ate House and burned it down with him.
By that time, the Senate had caved and had appointed Pompey sole con-
sul with emergency powers to restore order; as one of his first acts, he estab-
lished a new law governing violence in the city and a special court to hear
cases of such violence. Disregarding his close working relationship with
Milo, Pompey arrested him and brought him to trial for murder before this
new court, which convened in the Roman Forum. He also filled the Forum
with soldiers to control the proceedings during the trial and the angry mob
of spectators, some Clodius’s followers, and some Milo’s.
Cicero defended Milo, who had, of course, started the long, hard years
of fighting against Clodius on Cicero’s behalf (to recall him from exile and
restore his property destroyed by Clodius). But the hostile crowd and Pom-
pey’s troops seem to have intimidated Cicero, apparently for the first time
in his career as an orator; as a result, his efforts on behalf of Milo were not
214
Clothing
his best. How he actually defended Milo has to be gleaned from the speech
Cicero published after the trial; it survives for us to read today, and some
see it as his best speech. Apparently, he argued against other witnesses that
Clodius had deliberately ambushed his client on the road with the pre-
meditated plan of assassinating him; Milo had acted in self-defense and had
performed a great service on behalf of the Republic by justly eliminating
Clodius, so Cicero claimed. Nonetheless, the court convicted Milo, who
went into exile.
The motives of Clodius and Milo do not clearly fall along partisan lines,
that is, they did not always fall in line with the wishes of the more promi-
nent leaders of the times. Clodius especially shifted opportunistically, using
force, intimidation, bribes, and murder, often in opposition to the Tri-
umvirs who “created” him, sometimes in support of one of them against
the others, sometimes in support of their Optimate opponents, but always
in what he considered his own interests and the interests of the common
people of Rome.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Gangs;
Milo (d. 48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Populares
Further Reading
Lintott, A. W. 1968. Violence in the Roman Republic. Oxford, UK: Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
Rawson, E. 1991. Roman Culture and Society. Oxford, UK: Oxford University
Press.
Tatum, W. J. 1999. The Patrician Tribune: Publius Clodius Pulcher. Chapel Hill:
University of North Carolina Press.
Clothing
Despite the vast wealth of their empire, Romans, even in Caesar’s time,
dressed rather simply, using only a few articles of clothing. Differences in
the styles, colors, and materials of this clothing identified one’s age and sta-
tus in Roman society.
Beginning with undergarments, men and women both wore the sub-
ligaculum, usually made of wool but sometimes linen if they could afford
it, which might be fashioned as a sort of loin cloth or as a pair of trunks.
Women also wore the mamillare, a strip of soft leather wrapped around
the breasts. On top of these undergarments, men and women both wore a
woolen shirt, the tunica or tunic, much like a modern T-shirt, with short
215
Clothing
Fresco of Mars and Venus, originally from the ruins of ancient Pompeii, now in the
Naples Archaeological Museum (Naples, Italy). This image illustrates well the
traditional outfit of Roman women (especially the stola). (Photogolfer/
Dreamstime.com)
sleeves half way down the upper arm, though the tunic was much baggier.
The tunic, white, light yellow, brown, gray, or black, depending on the wool
used, extended from the neck far below the waist to the calf, unlike a typi-
cal T-shirt today, and was gathered about the waist by a tight belt to alter
its length to suit the individual’s taste. Women did not use a belt at all with
their tunics but instead a soft leather sash called the strophium, which served
also as a substitute on the outside of their clothing for the mamillare.
Julius Caesar conspicuously altered his tunics to dress differently than
other Roman men. According to the biographer Suetonius, Caesar, not
216
Clothing
satisfied with the short-sleeved tunic, which left the arms mostly bare, had
long sleeves added to cover his arms down to the wrist, thus creating some-
thing resembling today’s pajama top or thermal undershirt. Apparently,
such tunica manicata either were not uncommon in his day or caught on
as a fashion, thanks to him; regardless, more traditional Roman men re-
garded them as effeminate-looking. Suetonius notes further that Caesar’s
long sleeves had fringes as well (of what shape or design, he does not spec-
ify). Caesar also deviated from custom by wearing his belt loose.
Roman men of the equestrian and senatorial orders had the privilege of
wearing tunics with purple striping along the left and right sides, extend-
ing from the shoulders downward, on front and back, woven into or sewed
onto the tunic. Striping on equestrian tunics was distinguishably narrower
(angusticlavia) than on senatorial (laticlavia).
In the privacy of their homes, Romans wore the tunic without any other
outer garment. Most working Romans would have done the same even
outside the home and when at leisure. Never would Romans of Caesar’s
day wear anything like our modern pants. Such trousers, bracae, were, in
fact, considered a distinguishing mark of certain foreign populations that
the Romans regarded as “barbaric,” like the Gauls who inhabited what is
today the territory of modern France.
In public, Roman men would often don the famous toga, characteristic
of their society since early in its history, which they regarded as the very em-
blem of their culture, prohibiting any non-citizens from wearing it. Most
men wore the toga over their tunics, but even in Caesar’s day, there were
still some families that retained the ancient custom of wearing the toga
directly over the subligaculum. We are told in the ancient texts that Cae-
sar’s chief senatorial opponent, Cato the Younger, did this particularly as a
gesture of old-fashioned simplicity and virtue. Romans made the toga out
of a heavy, large (about four by two yards), irregular rectangle of white or
off-white wool, wrapped around the body in a more tight-fitting fashion
in olden times but in a more loose-fitting way (from an excess of material)
in Caesar’s lifetime. Over the years, it became more and more complicated
to arrange the toga precisely in the fashion of the day, requiring assistance
from slaves, friends, or family members. The folds in the front of the toga,
resembling slings, became large enough to serve as pockets of sorts. At all
times, Roman men kept their right arms uncovered by the toga, or at least
free enough from the folds of the toga to maneuver them.
Such an elegant, expensive, and cumbersome piece of clothing served
Roman men in a practical sense only on formal occasions, for example, re-
ligious festivals, elections, court appearances, attendance at public games,
and so on, where very little active motion was required. It was expected to
be worn at such times as a matter of custom and became even more signifi-
cant at certain ceremonies, such as marriages, funerals, and priestly rituals,
217
Clothing
where the groom, the deceased, or the priest, respectively, had to be to-
gate (and mourners had to wear a toga pulla, a dark gray toga). At about
age sixteen, adolescent males, or at least those of the senatorial order, went
through a rite of passage into manhood wherein they donned the toga viri-
lis, the traditional white or off-white version, for the first time. Candidates
for political office dressed in an especially whitened toga, known as the toga
candida, without any tunic underneath. Further, just as modern politicians
and public officials wear the business suit, Roman senators and magistrates
dressed in the toga praetexta as their uniform, a particular type of toga bear-
ing the broad purple striping noted above.
Married Roman women also had a distinctive outer garment, the stola;
before marriage, girls would have worn a small version of the toga. Like the
toga, the stola reached down to the feet, but unlike the toga, which was ar-
ranged in such a way as to pull in close to the wearer’s ankles, the stola had
a wider lower edge, falling to the floor like a modern evening gown. Along
the waistline, a sash or girdle helped keep the stola in place, and above this,
the stola was open on each side, and thus front and back had to be attached
at the shoulders by brooches; some stolae had billowy, semi-open sleeves.
Unlike the toga, the stola might consist of colored wool, or at least be
fringed with color on top and bottom.
Footwear in Rome consisted of either sandals or shoes. What moderns
would recognize as sandals, soleae, were only actually worn at home, not in
public; they were also never worn while eating. Outside of the home, Ro-
mans wore leather shoes, calcei, not much different than ours today. Those
of common citizens were open-toed and fastened up by a leather strap
across the top, those of senators were closed-toed and had leather straps
that wrapped up around and above the ankle. The poorest of Rome’s citi-
zens often wore wooden shoes. Women’s shoes differed from men’s mainly
in the higher quality of the leather and sometimes in the brightness of the
color. Men and women donned their shoes and sandals bare; it seems that
only children wore something akin to modern socks.
Against the cold and wet of the winter months, Romans added more
layers, such as an extra tunic or two, or tunics of much thicker wool, and
wore clothing specially suited to the season. For generations, for instance, a
long cloak called the paenula was used. It consisted of a large piece of heavy
wool, leather, or fur, usually coarse in quality, and looked like the modern,
sleeveless poncho; the paenula might stretch all the way down to the an-
kles on front and back. Romans of all social classes, and slaves, are known
to have worn the paenula. In Caesar’s day, they were also starting to use
a short woolen mantle, the lacerna, worn over the shoulders and fastened
with a buckle or brooch; it resembled the paludamentum, the well-known
military cloak used by Roman commanders in the field. Unlike the paenula,
which varied little among the classes, poorer Romans bought the cheaper
218
Coinage/Money
lacernae, in darker colors, while wealthy senators purchased the very expen-
sive, bright colored ones.
Roman women seem to have had a more fashionable cold-weather gar-
ment, the palla. A large woolen shawl, the palla was wrapped around a
woman’s upper body, in a fashion similar to a man’s toga, but in a greater
variety of styles.
The toga and the palla usually had enough excess material that some
of it could be employed to cover the head in bad weather; the paenula
and lacerna were often supplied with a hood or cucullus for further pro-
tection from the elements. Romans also had various sorts of hats. For in-
stance, men who worked outdoors often wore the pilleus, a felt cap shaped
like a half-dome; it was a very traditional article of clothing, used specially
by Roman priests, and in the ceremony whereby slaves were manumitted,
the pilleus was used as a symbol of that freedom. Indeed, famously, Bru-
tus placed an image of the pilleus flanked by two daggers on the coins with
which he paid his troops during the Civil War against Antony and Octavian;
the pilleus symbolized the freedom of the Roman People acquired, Brutus
believed, by the assassination of Julius Caesar. Finally, Roman men wore the
petasus or causia, a broad-brimmed felt hat, to protect against rain and sun
while traveling. Roman women apparently did not wear hats at all, and in-
stead used the parasol or umbraculum, very much like the modern version.
See also: Agriculture; Arms and Armor; Equites; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Sen-
ate; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE); Trade
Further Reading
Sebesta, J. L., and L. Bonfante. 1994. The World of Roman Costume. Madison:
University of Wisconsin Press.
Wilson, L. M. 1938. The Clothing of the Ancient Romans. Baltimore: Johns Hop-
kins University Press.
Coinage/Money
During the Republic, the Roman Senate authorized and guaranteed Rome’s
money in the form of coinage, placing the regular minting of the coins in
the charge of the tresviri monetales, the annual board of three moneyers. In
the course of Julius Caesar’s lifetime, powerful Roman generals, including
him, took it upon themselves to mint Roman coins to pay their own troops
or to buy off the troops of their rivals.
In their early history, Romans exchanged goods and services either for
goods and services of equal value (i.e., bartering) or for flocks of sheep
(pecus) or quantities of cast bronze (aes) weighed out on a scale, the latter
219
Coinage/Money
Roman coin minted during the first few years in the reign of the Emperor Claudius
(41–54 CE). The inscription SC on the reverse (back) of the coin indicates that the
Roman Senate authorized this issue; on the obverse (front), Claudius is referred to as
Caesar, since he descended from the family of Julius Caesar. (iStockphoto.com)
two becoming a primitive form of “money”; indeed, the Latin word for
money was pecunia, derived from pecus. Over time, the Roman economy
became much more monetized under the influence of the much more com-
plex economies of the Greek colonies in southern Italy, which had utilized
currencies in coin since at least as early as the sixth century BCE; also, the
Romans developed a need for “cash” to pay for things such as criminal
fines, taxes, and especially military expenditures during the long wars of the
third century BCE, including the allowance given to citizen-soldiers.
By the end of that century, the Romans had replaced the previously used
bronze ingots (each weighing one Roman pound, i.e., eleven-and-a-half
modern ounces) with coins of bronze called asses (as in the singular). In-
stead of casting, that is, pouring the molten metal into a large mold (usu-
ally engraved with some sort of design) to produce an ingot, they followed
the standard Greek practice of striking; they poured the metal into small,
round molds (in this case, about the size of an American nickel), allowed
it to cool, and then placed each metal disc thus produced in between two
dies (metal rods) which were hammered against each other; the struck ends
with engraved designs thus transferred those images to the new coin, front
and back.
As they came into possession of more and more sources of precious
metal, especially silver, in Italy and in the provinces of their empire, Romans
subordinated bronze in their developing system of currencies, and the as
became a fraction of larger silver coins, these at first minted by their Greek
220
Coinage/Money
subjects, who were the experts after all. Yet, the traditional Romans contin-
ued to calculate the worth of something by the number of asses it cost. So,
for instance, they determined that those citizens eligible for the draft had to
have wealth in land valued at 11,000 asses or more; to be a member of the
Senate, one had to possess over a million-and-a-half asses in landed wealth.
By Caesar’s time, the as weighed only half a modern ounce, but had lost
none of its nominal value in standing for a Roman pound of bronze metal.
In the Late Republic, the as became even smaller change with the re-
tariffing of the struck silver coin known as the denarius from a worth of ten
asses to a worth of sixteen asses, probably a compensation for inflation (de-
spite this change, the denarius continued to be marked with the abbrevia-
tion X for “ten”). At the same time, the silver coin known as the sestertius
(or sesterce in modern parlance), tariffed at four for every denarius (i.e.,
two-and-a-half asses, abbreviated IIS), came often to replace the as in cal-
culations of value. Foreign currencies and foreign terms for the weight of
precious metal were often understood in terms of so many sesterces; for ex-
ample, the Greek talent was considered equivalent to 2,400 sesterces.
The denarius just noted became Rome’s standard coin from the late
third century BCE until well into the age of the emperors. Right up to the
end of the Republic, the state maintained it more or less in weight (ap-
proximately 84 coins from 1 Roman pound of silver, i.e., 116 from a mod-
ern pound), fineness (close to 100 percent pure silver), and value (a day’s
wages for a common laborer). Even the traumatic economic conditions of
the Late Republic, with all its civil wars, bankruptcies, and changing hands
of property, did not alter this. The dramatic military upheavals of that time,
however, introduced into circulation Rome’s first permanent coinage in
gold; Caesar’s conquests in Gaul (roughly modern France) and Britain re-
leased especially a vast quantity of gold into the market in the form of the
aureus, a coin minted to pay his troops (struck at probably forty to the
Roman pound, i.e., almost sixty to the modern pound of gold). The aureus
had an exchange value of one for every twenty-five silver denarii.
As noted earlier, other forms of currency besides the Roman survived
across the empire during the Republic; the Romans did not impose an ex-
clusive monetary system on the other cultures they conquered. Instead,
Roman generals on campaign and especially governors stationed in the
provinces, and Roman tax collectors, made use of local coinage and usu-
ally filled their local treasuries (fisci) with such currency rather than import-
ing Roman coins when there were few circulating in a particular region.
Exchange rates fluctuated, tied to trading practices, both legal and black-
market; the Athenian drachma held pretty steady, exchanged one-for-one
with the denarius, as did the cistophoroi minted in the communities of Asia
Minor (modern Turkey) and valued at four times the denarius. The pres-
ence of so many different currencies in the money supply made the job of
221
Coinage/Money
moneychanger (nummularius) an essential one across the Roman world,

and especially in the city of Rome itself, where men in that profession con-
gregated along the north side of the Forum. Nevertheless, within Caesar’s
lifetime, Roman currency penetrated almost every corner of the empire,
spurred more than ever by civil wars among the Romans themselves.
Since the Roman economy functioned much differently than one in an
industrialized nation today, and since the Roman government did not in-
volve itself in the same way as modern ones do in establishing minimum
wages or regulating the money supply and so on, trying to draw equiva-
lencies between the buying power of modern money and Roman money is
hazardous. Some suggestions might be made, however. For example, a day
laborer in Rome earned typically one denarius a day; a cheap apartment
in Rome cost something like 500 denarii in yearly rent. Thus, the cost of
housing, even of the lowest kind, considerably exceeded the wages of a day
laborer and therefore required him or her either to work multiple jobs or
to apply for many handouts from the rich. By contrast, a minimum-wage
worker in the United States today can earn enough in one day (provided he
or she works a full eight hours) to pay about one-tenth of the monthly rent
on a fairly good apartment (depending on location). As another example,
one denarius purchased about thirty loaves of bread, whereas a minimum
wage for a full day’s work today might purchase twenty loaves.
Under the influence of Greek artistry, the Roman moneyers, young of-
ficials, often ambitious for attention and recognition, decorated their coins
with images of gods, symbols of state, and portraits commemorating famous
ancestors as well as heroes of the Roman People. Coinage told the story of
Rome’s history and its values, religious, political, military, and familial. The
earliest coin, the as, traditionally depicted the head of Janus (god of begin-
nings and endings) on the front (obverse) and a ship’s prow on the back
(reverse); early denarii tended to show Roma (the goddess spirit of Rome
itself) on the obverse and warriors, often cavalry, on the reverse.
By the Late Republic, the imagery on Roman coins had become much
more focused on the ambitions, achievements, and policies of power-
ful Roman individuals, statesmen, and generals. The fact that compet-
ing Roman generals in the field minted their own coinage in considerable
quantities to pay their own troops and allies during the civil wars of that
period played a significant part in this, but even the tresviri monetales them-
selves took up sides in the intense political conflicts of the era, delivering
coins to the general public that contained personal messages about the fac-
tion they supported.
Another significant change from the Late Republic was the inclusion of
portraits of living people on Roman coins. Moneyers flirted with this break-
ing of a taboo going back to the time of Caesar’s famous uncle, General
Marius; a coin from the moneyer Fundanius depicted Marius in triumph,
222
Collegia
driving a chariot. About two decades later, Marius’s rival, General Sulla,
depicted himself the same way on a coin commemorating his recent vic-
tories in Greece. Neither of these representations were detailed enough to
actually show the face of the living person, but they were moving in that
direction. Julius Caesar became the first living Roman to portray his face
on coins, followed by his successors, Antony, Octavian, and Lepidus, and
by his adversaries, like Brutus the assassin.
Coinage of the Roman Republic, significant as currency and as tiny bill-
boards, set new standards for quality, faith, and trust, and even communi-
cation of ideas. The emperors of Rome and Byzantium, Muslim caliphs,
medieval monarchs, Renaissance city-states, and modern nations of the
West have all followed in that tradition.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Brutus (ca.
85–42 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE);
Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Taxation/Tax
Farming; Trade
Further Reading
Crawford, M. 1954. Coinage and Money under the Roman Republic. Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press.
sity Press.
Sutherland, C.H.V. 1974. Roman Coins. London: Barrie and Jenkins.
Collegia
Just as people do today, ancient Romans gathered together in private, formal
groups for a variety of purposes. In classical Latin, three words denoted such
groups: collegium, sodalitas, and sodalicium. Though the first term might
also be applied to official governmental boards or committees, all three were
otherwise fairly interchangeable when applied to the private sphere.
Craftsmen and merchants organized themselves into guilds according
to field of endeavor. The earliest of these, which still existed in Caesar’s
day, were the shoemakers, leathermakers, carpenters, coppersmiths, pot-
ters, dyers, goldsmiths, and flute-blowers (the last being essential for the
Roman military, which like ancient Greek armies, enlisted flute-blowers to
provide signals and keep time on the march and in battle); dozens of others
developed over time to accommodate specialization and division of labor.
Such guilds primarily functioned to build camaraderie among their mem-
bers and to offer some sort of social life for them (especially for the poorest
among them) rather than to exert pressure on the government, as business
223
Collegia
interest groups and trade unions do today (though it is hard to believe,

judging from the evidence of politically active guilds in some smaller towns
in Italy, that those in Rome were completely apolitical); these guilds appar-
ently also attempted to pass down the skills needed to maintain the quality
of certain products in the market, in some ways like medieval guilds, but
without nearly as much power or leverage, especially having no authority to
keep non-members out of the market.
Residents of Rome also formed associations to arrange and enjoy sport-
ing and other recreational events among themselves. Still others came to-
gether as like-minded citizens for political discussion and strategizing.
Almost all the collegia, sodalitates, and sodalicia identified by modern
scholarship possessed a religious aspect, either because they were dedicated
to a certain deity or because their members performed certain religious
activities regularly during the year. Some associations, however, were en-
tirely devoted to religious pursuits, celebrating rituals, sacrifices, proces-
sions, or constructing and maintaining shrines for particular deities. Under
Roman law, for example, the Jews of the capital belonged to a sodalicium,
whose privileges Julius Caesar confirmed in his capacity as dictator and
which came to be applied to many Jewish communities across the empire
under him and later under the Roman Emperors.
Membership in associations seems to have been restricted to males only,
as far as our evidence reveals; this makes sense, since it would have been
regarded as unseemly in Roman society for women to gather in private for
any purpose outside family business. This tells us that men had more (and
more varied) means of social interaction than women. In addition, by the
Late Republic, the majority of members seem to have been former slaves,
freedmen.
To enter the clubs, men submitted to probationary examinations and
initiation ceremonies, of which we know little from the days of the Repub-
lic. As members, they had the right to elect the leaders of the association,
including such familiar figures as presiding officer and treasurer, and to de-
bate and ratify its regulations; this provided them a sense of responsibility
and purpose lacking in the anti-democratic system of the Roman Republic,
which allowed only aristocrats to hold positions of decision making and
power. Members also had the burden of paying the dues that funded the
group’s activities and bolstered members and their families in hard times.
In other words, by the Late Republic, almost all collegia, sodalitates, and
sodalicia had evolved into mutual aid societies, giving their members not
only a sense of belonging but also a much-needed safety net in moments
of crisis.
Often, collegia sought out wealthy and influential patrons, who might or
might not be members themselves, and attached themselves to these men
to acquire more funds or to gain other forms of assistance. Patrons were
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Collegia
always invited to join the association at its most important gatherings, the
banquets it held on special occasions, such as religious holidays or the anni-
versary of the association’s founding. These took place wherever space was
available to the group, unless it happened to be well-off enough to own its
own meeting hall, which Romans called its schola. If it could afford the cost,
a collegium also maintained a burial ground for its members, though by the
end of the Republic, specialized burial societies probably began to appear;
their members made sure to provide a resting place for the deceased and
the appropriate last rites.
The Roman government began to regulate collegia, sodalitates, and so-
dalicia in the Late Republic, when many of them became corrupted, or
held out the potential of being corrupted, into political gangs by senato-
rial leaders. Such groups added bribery, extortion, intimidation, and other
methods of political enforcement to their list of legitimate activities. Infa-
mous gang leaders, like Clodius and Milo, often hid their acts of violence
behind the front of a legitimate club or guild; they would pack the group
with gladiators or freed slaves loyal to them and ready for violent action.
Clodius, in fact, fought for private associations, ostensibly as a matter of
principle, but, in reality, to keep them relevant to his nefarious schemes.
The Senate had cracked down on such groups in 64 BCE, apparently dis-
banding many of them. As plebeian tribune in 58 BCE, Clodius fought not
only for their restoration but also for the creation of new clubs, and he
gained massive popular acclaim for doing so. Two years later, gang violence
had risen to such a level that the Senate again declared the voluntary dis-
solution of the collegia, if their members did not want to be charged with
crimes against Roman order; Roman voters, however, refused to support
this resolution. So, in 55 BCE, one of the consuls, M. Licinius Crassus, put
forward a law that fell short of banning the sodalicia outright but that did
identify certain of their activities as illegal and threatened the clubs with ju-
dicial penalties if they did not reform their behavior.
None of the senators involved in these debates and declarations really
believed in anything like our right of assembly, which would have afforded
some protection to the collegia, but they did all fear the wrath of the gen-
eral public, who were devoted to their organizations. That is, until the
conquest of the Roman world by Julius Caesar. He had himself helped to
pervert the associations into the gang problem in the first place, but finally,
apparently, came to the conclusion that private organizations were gener-
ally too dangerous to have around. As a consequence, he dissolved many
of the collegia and sodalitates outright and placed restrictions on the re-
maining (the oldest craft/mercantile guilds and religious clubs) to dissuade
them from getting involved in street violence or politics. From that time
onward, Roman leaders, particularly the emperors, kept a very tight watch
and a tight lid on such groups.
225
Colonies
See also: Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Gangs; Jews;
Milo (d. 48 BCE); Populares; Recreation; Religion, Roman; Senatus Consul-
tum Ultimum (SCU); Trade
Further Reading
Balsdon, J.P.V.D. 1969. Life and Leisure in Ancient Rome. London: Bodley Head.
Burford, A. 1972. Craftsmen in Greek and Roman Society. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press.
Crook, J. A. 1967. Law and Life of Rome. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
D’Arms, J. H. 1981. Commerce and Social Standing in Ancient Rome. Cambridge,
Toynbee, J.M.C. 1971. Death and Burial in the Roman World. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press.
University Press.
Colonies
Caesar followed a long-established tradition among the Romans by found-
ing new population settlements called coloniae or colonies.
Beginning in the fourth century BCE, the Roman State occasionally sent
out excess population to inhabit land conquered from neighbors; some-
times the land was chosen for its strategic location so that the settlers could
provide a defense for Rome against future threats. Settlers in colonies lo-
cated close to Rome usually retained full rights as Roman citizens; such col-
onies were very few in number and small in population, primarily because
the fundamental aspects of citizenship could only be exercised in Rome.
The more numerous and much larger settlements located further away
from the ager Romanus, Roman territory, possessed instead the ius Latii or
Latin rights, which meant that they could trade freely with and marry full
Roman citizens, but that they themselves had basically given up their own
Roman citizenship in favor of the citizenship of their new community; still,
if they chose ever to move to Rome, their full Roman citizenship would be
restored to them. From the early second century BCE onward, the Romans
established only these sorts of Latin colonies, as famously in the vitally stra-
tegic region of Cisalpine Gaul (northern Italy) at such places as Ariminum
(modern Rimini) and Bononia (modern Bologna), for example.
From the late second century BCE to the end of the Republic, estab-
lishing colonies became more political than strategic: Roman leaders be-
came the champions of the poor urban population of Rome by proposing a
new life for such men and their families through generous land allotments
226
Colonies
abroad. At the start, such proposals came from determined Populares, such
as the famous plebeian tribune, C. Sempronius Gracchus, and his colleague,
M. Fulvius Flaccus, who called for the founding of colonies in southern
Italy and overseas. In no time at all, however, opponents of such “radical”
politicians (the forerunners of the Optimates of Caesar’s day), like M. Livius
Drusus the Elder, pulled the rug out from under them by also proposing
the establishment of new colonies but more of them and on a quicker time-
line. Both sides could play at this game.
In the same time period, Roman generals and their political associates
became the champions of veteran soldiers by giving them land in colonies
as a reward for service. Again, this started with Populares, like the tribune
L. Appuleius Saturninus who helped General C. Marius settle a number of
his veterans in colonies across the Mediterranean, especially in North Af-
rica. Not many years later, however, Marius’s chief opponent, L. Cornelius
Sulla, also established colonies for his veterans, but this time not just as a
reward for service but also to garrison his supporters in parts of Italy that
had stood against him.
When the Civil War with Pompey and his supporters ended, Julius Cae-
sar not only paid off his troops with loot and money but also settled them
and many poor Roman city dwellers, in over twenty colonies, some old
towns, some newly established for them to live in. Over 100,000 veter-
ans and urban poor thus received land allotments in Italy itself and in the
provinces of Syria (Apamea Myrlea), Bithynia-Pontus (Heraclea, Sinope),
Spain (Urso, Hispalis-Seville, Tarraco), Achaea (Corinth), Transalpine Gaul
(Arelate, Nemausus), and Africa (Cirta, Carthage). Some of these colonies
were primarily agricultural, others primarily commercial; some held Roman
status, others Latin rights. Most were only begun by Caesar, completed by
his political heirs.
One special contribution of Caesar to the history of Roman coloniza-
tion, besides the sheer scale of the settlements and their longevity, was his
apparent systematizing of the colonial establishments (surviving copies of
the charter of Urso in Spain reveal this); colonies usually developed into
miniature versions of Rome anyway, so Caesar chartered them to officially
duplicate the political institutions and material structures of the mother
city. Following in the footsteps of Alexander the Great, he also named his
new establishments after himself. The emperors of Rome would follow
Caesar’s precedents for centuries to come in the colonies they founded.
One of Caesar’s most famous colonies was Corinth in southern Greece.
The Romans had destroyed the original city of Corinth, a stronghold of
rebellion against the empire, back in 146 BCE, leveling the entire place
to the ground. A century later, Caesar settled some of his veteran troops
there, calling the colony not Corinth but Laus Julii, “the praise of Julius.”
Corinth once again became a center of maritime trade and a place of history
227
Congiaria
under the Roman Emperors; there would have been no letters of St. Paul
to the Corinthians if it had not been for Caesar’s refounding of the city as
a Roman colony.
Another was Carthage in North Africa, which the Romans had also razed
to the ground in 146 BCE at the conclusion of the Third Punic War. Grac-
chus and Flaccus, noted earlier, had put into motion the most celebrated
effort to re-create that city as a Roman colony back in 122 BCE. They began
to organize the new settlement, which they called Junonia after the god-
dess Juno, on the outskirts of the site of old Carthage. Interference from
their political enemies sabotaged the project, which Caesar picked up nearly
eighty years later; his Master of Horse, M. Aemilius Lepidus, brought the
project to fruition in the late 40s BCE. Like Corinth, Carthage became a
place of great importance again, not only for commerce, as it had been in
the heyday of the Carthaginian Empire, but also for education, high cul-
ture, and Christianity, both mainstream and heretical, and not only for the
Roman Empire but also for the Vandal Kingdom which succeeded it in
controlling North Africa until the Muslim conquests in the late seventh
century CE.
Colonial settlers throughout the empire not only guarded against dan-
gers to Rome, but also, and surely more importantly, opened up much
more direct contact between Romans and non-Romans, even presenting
opportunities for gaining Roman citizenship, and spread Roman culture to
Rome’s subjects. Caesar significantly contributed to this, and the coloniza-
tion of the Americas owes much to his (Rome’s) example.
See also: Citizenship; Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina; Gaul Transalpine/
Gallia Transalpina; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates; Populares; Sulla
(ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Keppie, L. 1983. Colonization and Veteran settlement in Italy 47–14 B.C. London:
British School at Rome.
Salmon, E. T. 1969. Roman Colonisation under the Republic. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press.
Congiaria
During the Republic, Roman leaders had a long tradition of hosting ban-
quets for, or otherwise distributing food to, their clients, large segments
of the population in the city of Rome, or even the entire urban populace.
Provision of food in such ways became a major feature of several religious
festivals and especially of a victorious commander’s triumphal celebrations
228
Congiaria
and, since the Republic frequently honored its gods with sacrifices and was
also frequently at war, it became a fairly regular element of the urban expe-
rience. Among the food items often provided to the Roman people on such
occasions were wine and oil, measured out by congius (roughly equivalent
to 115 fluid ounces). From this particular distribution came the term con-
giarium, which eventually encompassed many different gifts of food from
the Roman elite to members of the public.
The tradition of the various forms of congiaria had its origin in the rela-
tions of patrons and clients in Roman society. Frequently, a patron’s duty
to his or her clients included seeing them through a bad harvest, a famine,
or some other trouble that reduced the supply of food; patrons had wealth,
often in produce from land, and hence usually did not suffer much from
such calamities themselves. They could tide over their clients, and it was ex-
pected that they would do so. Furthermore, poorer Romans could not gen-
erally afford large quantities (sometimes even just sufficient quantities) of
foodstuffs that are abundant today, such as oil, wine, and meat, which, by
the Late Republic, came largely from the estates of the wealthy. The great
landowners in Roman society, then, those who also rose to prominence
as the Republic’s magistrates, priests, and commanders, had the where-
withal from their own ranches and farms to bolster their own clients and to
support even larger numbers of people with gifts of food in amounts that
might otherwise be beyond their reach.
Julius Caesar, for instance, proved himself to be such a patron to the
People of Rome when, as part of his huge triumphal ceremonies in 46 BCE,
he feasted tens of thousands of them at a great banquet. Two years later,
after his final victory over political resistance in Spain, he gave two further
feasts of a similar kind. In addition to banquets, he distributed grain, oil,
and meat to court the favor of the populace.
Providing this extra food to the masses, whether as part of a religious
ritual or a victory celebration, served the very important and practical pur-
pose of improving the nutritional level in the diet of the common man and
woman. It also further glorified leading Romans as magnanimous patrons
of their community.
See also: Dictator; Food and Drink; Patrons and Clients; Plebs; Religion,
Roman; Sacrifices; Triumphs/Trophies
Further Reading
Garnsey, P. 1988. Famine and Food Supply in the Graeco-Roman World. Cam-
bridge: Cambridge University Press.
Millar, F. 1998. The Crowd in Rome in the Late Republic. Ann Arbor: University
of Michigan Press.
Mouritsen, H. 2001. Plebs and Politics in the Late Roman Republic. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
229
Conspiracy of 65 BCE
Sirks, A.B.J. 1991. Food for Rome. Amsterdam: Gieben Publishers.

Wallace-Hadrill, A. 1989. Patronage in Ancient Society. London and New York:
Routledge.
The Conspiracy of 65 BCE or First Catilinarian Conspiracy refers to an
alleged plot of the maverick senator Catiline (L. Sergius Catilina) to
overthrow the Republic two years before his famous attempt, when he
confronted Cicero and was almost rescued by Caesar.
In 66 BCE, the incumbent consuls, Man. Aemilius Lepidus and L. Vul-
catius Tullus, held elections for their successors, who would assume office
in January 65 BCE. The two men who successfully won those consulships
of 65, P. Autronius Paetus and P. Cornelius Sulla, were soon afterward
disqualified from holding office on charges of electoral bribery and even
dropped from membership in the Senate. This was a huge scandal, never
seen before in the history of Rome; certainly, by that time in the Late
Republic, bribery had become widespread in the electoral process, but to
disqualify both consuls-elect after the election because their bribery had
been so serious and almost immediately discovered was unprecedented.
It also seriously undermined the credibility of the senatorial aristocracy
as a whole. Lepidus and Tullus then had to take the extraordinary step, in
the past usually taken only in cases of the unexpected death of a consul-
elect, of arranging special elections to try again to select successors
for 65.
Catiline decided to throw his hat in the ring in these special elections.
He came from an old patrician family and had served as praetor in Rome
and as propraetor of Africa (modern Tunisia). Certainly, he had the proper
qualifications to run for the consulship. He was officially rejected, however,
in his bid to replace the impeached consuls; besides the fact that he did not
technically announce his candidacy within the time prescribed for doing
so, he was also under a pending indictment for misgoverning the province
of Africa. The special election returned L. Aurelius Cotta and L. Manlius
Torquatus as the new consuls-elect of 65 BCE.
According to the historian Sallust, whose account of Catiline’s later con-
spiracy in 63 BCE is our major source of information for what took place two
years earlier, the proud and infuriated Catiline was approached by an aristo-
crat only a few years younger than himself, Cn. Calpurnius Piso, of similar
character to Catiline and like him a believer in fomenting political trouble
as a convenient way to lay hands on other people’s wealth. After all, Cati-
line had not only developed his reputation for ruthlessness in the Civil War
conducted by General Sulla against political opponents (84–82 BCE) but
230
had also made lots of money by confiscating the property of those oppo-
nents. Though there is no evidence, it is possible that Piso, as a very young
man, had also been part of that. Whatever his prior experiences, the young
firebrand Piso had determined to overthrow the government for personal
financial gain and invited Catiline and the discredited Autronius to join his
plot out of revenge for wounded honor and reputation.
Beginning in early December 66 BCE, these three ringleaders prepared
themselves to assassinate Cotta and Torquatus, and not in a secretive
fashion, but in the most public way, on the first day of office, January 1,
65 BCE, on the Capitoline Hill above the Roman Forum, probably the most
visible and most sacred spot in Rome. Piso agreed that Catiline and Autro-
nius would seize power as the new consuls, while he would take control of
the two provinces of Spain in command of a large army. No one could stop
them, they assumed, because there were no major forces of Roman troops
within Italy itself; the only commander they feared, Pompey, whom Piso
apparently also hated, was very far away and too occupied with his cam-
paigns in Asia Minor (modern Turkey) and Armenia to return to Italy at
that time.
Somehow details of what they had planned for the first of January leaked
out, perhaps through others whom they had taken into their scheme. Suspi-
cion of trouble induced the Senate to provide the consuls with a bodyguard
and this supposedly foiled the conspirators’ plans; they had to postpone
taking action until early February. In the meantime, they had decided not
simply to get rid of the two consuls but many other members of the Senate
as well. Still, something again went wrong. Catiline apparently had the task
of signaling his accomplices to make their move; standing in front of the
Curia, the usual meeting place of the Senate at the base of the Capitoline
Hill, he made the signal, but there were not enough of the plotters present
to succeed.
What happened, indeed, is mysterious, because no actual trouble took
place at that time and no arrests were made then or later. The plot seems
to have been simply abandoned. Piso must have still had some strong
suspicions cast upon him, though, because not long after, M. Licinius
Crassus, a principal associate of Caesar and later member of his Triumvi-
rate, the richest man in Rome and one of the most influential senators,
moved the Senate to appoint Piso as special quaestor in Further Spain.
His mission is unclear, but the historian Sallust suggests mixed motives
for this decision: Crassus and other senators hoped to get Piso away from
Rome, to reduce the chances of his causing mischief there, but sent him
to Spain in particular because he was such an enemy of Pompey that he
would certainly be willing and perhaps able to weaken Pompey’s influ-
ence in that provincial territory (Pompey had gained many followers in
Spain during his war against the rebel Roman senator, Sertorius, almost
231
a decade earlier). They succeeded in removing Piso from Rome, but he

ended up dead at the hands of Spanish cavalry troopers, probably loyal
to Pompey.
Despite the detailed account provided by Sallust, there was, it seems,
never any solid evidence about the Conspiracy of 65; as noted, no for-
mal charges of conspiracy were brought against the men allegedly involved
at the time and none of them ever turned informer. As a result, the very
historical reality of this plot is in some doubt. Even Catiline’s participa-
tion derives mainly from rumors circulated about him. Suspicion about the
scheme persisted, and still persists, because of certain coincidences. Several
of the same characters joined Catiline in his actual conspiracy against Cicero
two years later; Autronius, for example, apparently eagerly plotted Cicero’s
death. In 62 BCE, he and P. Sulla were prosecuted on charges of violence
that were vague enough to include not only complicity in the conspiracy
against Cicero but also rumors of the earlier scheme; Autronius was con-
victed and exiled to Epirus (modern Albania). Yet, Sulla gained acquittal,
thanks to the efforts of the best lawyers of the day, Hortensius and even
Cicero himself.
Cicero’s speech in defense of Sulla (Pro Sulla) survives today; it passes
over the alleged Conspiracy of 65 quite quickly, giving virtually no details
of what happened. Indeed, Cicero practically dismisses the Conspiracy of
65, first because it paled in comparison to Catiline’s actual conspiracy in 63
(of course, Cicero would say this since he famously halted that conspiracy)
and secondly because both events were the fault of thoroughly disreputable
characters, like Catiline and Autronius, not Sulla, a modest man of virtues
(according to Cicero’s labored portrait) who stayed on both occasions far
away in Naples. Such a treatment of the events of 65 again causes pause:
Cicero did not have to prove that a plot had been hatched in that year be-
cause many people in Rome obviously had come to think that something
was afoot, but had there been or was it all idle talk?
Sulla fairly well retired from public life until joining Caesar’s side in the
Civil War against Pompey in Greece, in which he distinguished himself and
gained great wealth through confiscations. Speaking of wealth, the senior
statesman, Crassus, was also implicated in the Conspiracy of 65, since he
helped Piso get out of town and absorbed some of the other suspects, in-
cluding Catiline, into his group of clients, apparently hoping to make use of
such bold, daring individuals in the service of his own ambitions.
Some also murmured about Julius Caesar’s involvement, since he stood
close to Crassus in those days, depending on the latter’s generous financial
patronage to further his own political career. Certainly, Caesar’s later call
for clemency during the conspiracy of Catiline in 63–62 BCE lent credibil-
ity to such gossip about the earlier “conspiracy.” Yet, the Imperial biog-
rapher, Suetonius, writing over 150 years later and drawing upon several
232
Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE)
Republic-era authors that he notes by name (all confirmed opponents of

Caesar), went further than murmuring; he asserted that Caesar and Crassus
were, in fact, the masterminds behind the Conspiracy of 65, the latter hop-
ing to become dictator, the former his lieutenant, by attacking the Sen-
ate House and killing as many senatorial rivals as possible. The plot was
aborted because Crassus thought twice about it (or lost his nerve) and
Caesar consequently took no action. Caesar then developed a new scheme
with Piso, who was to lead a rebellion in Spain against Rome simultane-
ously as Caesar did so in Italy.
The mysterious story that is the Conspiracy of 65 reminds modern read-
ers of how much is teasingly not known about Caesar’s life and times. It
also alerts us to be mindful of how little solid information the Romans
themselves had about the behind-the-scenes activities of their leading
citizens.
See also: Ambitus/Bribery; Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–
43 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Dictator; Elections; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Senate; Spain; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE)
Further Reading
Macdonald, C. 1976. Cicero Orations. In Catilinam I-IV. Pro Murena. Pro Sulla.
Pro Flacco. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

In 44 BCE, a group of senators came together to conspire against Julius
Caesar, with the intention of assassinating him and thereby removing him
from his supreme position of power in the Roman State. Since they re-
garded their goal as tyrannicide, the elimination of an unjust ruler, they re-
garded themselves not as murderers but as liberators.
By the start of that year, Caesar had been exercising virtually unlimited
authority over the Roman Empire for nearly five years. The Senate and Peo-
ple of Rome had, in that time, conferred on him one honor, title, and power
after another, until he resembled a king in fact, even if not in name. The
Romans had an animosity toward kingship that dated back almost five cen-
turies, when their ancestors ousted the Tarquin family of kings; though Cae-
sar may have flirted with the idea of calling himself king (rex in Latin), he
never went through with doing so, exactly because of that tradition of an-
tipathy. This did not stop him, however, from accumulating so much power
in the Republic that it basically could not function without his express
233
permission and guidance. The majority of the Roman People, and appar-
ently most subject populations throughout the empire, had no objection to
this and, indeed, loved Caesar; the Senate that lavished him with so many
honors consisted largely of loyal creatures whom he had added to that body.
Yet, some members of the aristocracy absented themselves from political
life, like the famous orator Cicero, because they could not bring themselves
to “serve” Caesar, and others who did so increasingly chafed under the rule
of one man. Not only was this true of those who had belatedly reconciled
with him during the Civil War, but even of members of his own political
faction, who began to turn against him. Caesar himself felt the discomfort
of being at the top of the always-competitive Roman heap, especially after
the Senate decreed him Dictator Perpetuus, emergency magistrate for life;
he planned on getting out of town as soon as possible to lead a new, glory-
bringing war against the Parthian Empire (which ruled what we today call
the Middle East, or most of it). Still, he had no intention of letting go of
the enormous power he had attained and would have continued to rule the
Roman world from the far-off battlefields to the East, an absentee quasi-
monarch, an even greater outrage to those discontented Roman aristocrats
and to some commoners. Further aggravated by repeated calls for Caesar to
be proclaimed king in the first two months of 44 BCE, and his appearance in
public clothed in the purple robes and golden head-wreath of the Tarquins,
average citizens began to call for “champions” to take action against him,
while about sixty or seventy senators, political idealists, personal enemies of
Caesar, and adventure-seekers, most of them (the evidence suggests) actu-
ally disgruntled Caesarians (partisans of Caesar’s faction), joined a plot to
bring the dictator down.
According to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, this large group of mal-
contents grew from smaller ones that felt insufficient to effect anything
against Caesar’s power; another Imperial biographer, Plutarch, gave credit
to C. Cassius Longinus for gathering these separate groups into one. Cas-
sius was a man of considerable military talents and had served under Pom-
pey during the Civil War, but Caesar had pardoned him three years before
the assassination and, in fact, arranged for him to serve as one of the Roman
praetors (officials with important military and judicial responsibilities) in
the year of the assassination. Personal hatred toward Caesar and a brutal
temper primarily drove the actions of Cassius, though he concealed this,
imperfectly, behind the veil of acting on political principle. That no doubt
played a part as well, since he appeared from his youth to have been op-
posed to tyrannical behavior. No wonder that on more than one occasion
he had come to feel slighted by Caesar.
Cassius strained every nerve to bring together all those aristocrats who
wanted to see Caesar eliminated, whatever their reasons. Many would
not join, however, unless they had assurances from Cassius that his
234
brother-in-law, M. Junius Brutus, would also be a leader in the scheme, or

at least its symbolic figurehead.
Both Brutus and his mother, Servilia, had close relationships with Cae-
sar, but Brutus had sided politically with Pompey in the past. Caesar had
pardoned Brutus, and it was, in fact, Brutus who persuaded Caesar to do
the same for Cassius and a number of other men who later turned on him.
Caesar passed over Cassius to make sure that Brutus held the most presti-
gious of the praetorships in 44 BCE; everyone knew that Brutus had even
more promising career prospects ahead of him as one of Caesar’s obvious
favorites. In fact, when Caesar was warned that Brutus was involved in a
plot against his life, Caesar remarked that Brutus would wait his turn for
the chance to lead Rome; that was how much confidence the dictator had
in Brutus as a friend and as a man. Indeed, Caesar’s attention toward Bru-
tus had driven a further wedge between the latter and his sister’s husband,
Cassius, who were never really the best of friends anyway.
The deeply philosophical Brutus had a widespread reputation for virtuos-
ity, made only greater by being the nephew of Cato the Younger, the arch-
adversary of Caesar, now dead from suicide; many of the plotters, including
Cassius, understood how such a reputation would lend great credibility to
their enterprise. They wondered how it would look to the People of Rome if
Brutus did not partake in a glorious and “just” revolution of affairs. Further-
more, their endeavor would have that much more significance if someone like
Brutus, who could have had every success from Caesar with the latter alive,
would, instead, choose to destroy Caesar for the sake of the Republic. So,
Cassius worked on Brutus through mutual friends whom the latter trusted
fully and later (after a reconciliation) in person to convince him, first of all,
that Caesar’s favors were not meant to show Brutus respect but only designed
to weaken the latter’s standing in the community and to lull him into a sense
of complacency under one-man rule, and, secondly, that many people, com-
moners and men of rank, looked to Brutus for action against the “tyrant.”
Brutus was under quite a bit of pressure, not only personal from friends
like Cassius but also popular, to take up the cause against Caesar, and not
just because of his reputation and position relative to the dictator. His an-
cestry also played a key role, for, according to tradition, it was the family of
Brutus who had led the revolution against the Tarquin kings of early Rome.
He started receiving anonymous letters from citizens, as well as finding simi-
lar notes on the platform in the Roman Forum where the praetors, includ-
ing himself, conducted their official business; all these writings conveyed the
same sentiment: that Brutus must live up to the name of his ancestor and
lead a new revolution or live in shame at dishonoring the liberty-bearing
name of Brutus. Even on the base of the statue that commemorated that
famous hero, Romans scribbled a plea for his spirit to return and save them.
Brutus did not disagree with the growing concerns about tyranny; when
235
Cassius pushed him on all this, he made it clear that if the Senate did go
through with a proposal to declare Caesar “king outside of Italy,” and asked
for his opinion, he would boldly stand against it, even to the point of death.
Once persuaded to join up, Brutus worked as hard as Cassius to solidify
and recruit the members of the conspiracy. Their most conspicuous omission
was Cicero; certainly no supporter of Caesar’s extraordinary powers, he had
yet gone into political retirement after the death of Pompey, and the plotters
considered him too cautious an individual for their bold plans. Indeed, for-
mer Pompeians, like themselves, do not appear to have made up the majority
of those who cooperated with Cassius and Brutus; instead, they obtained the
participation mainly of important Caesarians, like C. Trebonius and Dec. Ju-
nius Brutus Albinus, both of whom had served under Caesar politically and
militarily for over a decade. It appears that a number of Caesarians felt their
former leader had become too powerful and hence dangerous to themselves
and the Republic (if they cared about it at all), and that his control over the
entire state restricted them in terms of their own independent ambitions.
The Conspirators awaited their chance to strike Caesar down, hoping to
do so before his departure for the East, scheduled for March 18, 44 BCE.
When Caesar convened a meeting of the Senate for the fifteenth of that
month, the day Romans called the Ides, he provided them that chance.
Caesar had received warnings of various kinds regarding threats to his life,
but he ignored them, especially when his escort, the secret conspirator Bru-
tus Albinus, bolstered him with all sorts of reasons why he could not in-
sult the Senate by cancelling their meeting or appear fearful in the eyes of
the Senate or the People of Rome. Drawn to the Curia of Pompey, the ap-
pointed location of the conclave, Caesar refused to enter with any sort of
protection; he dismissed his picked guard of cavalrymen from Spain and did
not even surround himself with a crowd of eminent men, which was cus-
tomary in Roman politics. He did not even await his friend and lieutenant,
Marc Antony, who met Caesar outside the Curia and would have gone in
with him if he had not been carefully distracted outside by Trebonius; the
Conspirators had also targeted Antony, but Brutus had insisted that such
an act would go beyond the justice of tyrannicide and persuaded them that
Antony could be brought over to their side after the deed was done.
Greeted by fawning members of the Senate, Caesar seated himself on a
special chair (probably a cathedra, a sort of throne) to hear petitions. The
Conspirators positioned themselves around him and pressed in close, one
of them even holding Caesar’s hand to beg a favor. As Caesar tried to get
away from this pressure, a Conspirator dealt him a dagger blow to the lower
neck, and then all of them started striking in a wild frenzy. Unable to escape
and wounded over and over again, Caesar pulled his cloak over his head and
collapsed at the foot of Pompey’s statue; writhing in silent agony for a few
moments, he then died.
236
The majority of senators ran frantically out of the Curia and raced to the
safety of their own homes, not really comprehending what had just hap-
pened. The assassins, calling themselves Liberators, marched out toward
the Capitoline Hill, along the way proclaiming their deed to the crowds
unashamedly and quite courageously, declaring that the Republic had been
freed from a tyrant.
Within a few days, these “heroes” found themselves hated by the People of
Rome so much that they had to flee the city or face being lynched at the hands
of the commoners. Though Caesar’s successors at first worked to reconcile
with the Liberators, they later determined to destroy them. In the end, one of
those successors, Caesar’s great-nephew, Octavian, rose to rule Rome as its first
emperor, Augustus. Thus, the “liberation of the Republic” failed. Yet, gen-
erations of Romans, especially writers of history, biography, and poetry from
within the Senate, heralded Brutus, Cassius, and the other Liberators as heroes
and symbols of what it meant to be truly Roman. The great orator, Cicero, had
started this trend immediately after the assassination in his own political essays
and speeches. This heroizing tradition has lasted right up to our own time.
In reality, the Liberators were not as virtuous and selfless as others made
them appear nor was Caesar so ruthless and detrimental to the Republic
that he deserved to die. He may, indeed, have regarded the Republic as a
sham, in overly cynical (some might call this realistic) terms, but his assas-
sins (or at least the best of them) saw it as an idealized utopia, the reality of
which meant the continued rule of a handful of men (themselves) from a
handful of families over an empire of millions of subjects. They did succeed,
for a time, in restoring the Republic by eliminating Caesar, exactly because
he had not fully destroyed it, as they had claimed; it was not the utopia they
had deluded themselves with, however, but rather a battlefield of political
dynasts, including themselves, who wielded money, armies, and influence
to get what they and their factions wanted and to foster and protect their
own dignitas (self-worth and reputations).
Capitoline Hill; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Mar-
cus (106–43 BCE); Clothing; Dictator; Dignitas; Ides of March; Liber-
tas/Dominatio; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Parthia; Plutarch’s Lives;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Rex; Senate; Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE); Suetonius
(ca.70–130 CE); Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
237
Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE)
Earl, D. C. 1967. The Moral and Political Tradition of Rome. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press.
Ltd.
University Press.

It is perhaps ironic that the defender of the Republic, L. Domitius Aheno-
barbus, who confronted Julius Caesar on the latter’s invasion of Italy, did
so at the town of Corfinium in central Italy; Corfinium, not even a century
before, had served as the capital for those Italian allies who had rebelled
against the Republic and had threatened to create their own state, Italia,
and to destroy Rome. Domitius would try to destroy the “rebel” Caesar,
for the sake of Rome, in that same place.
By early February 49 BCE, Caesar had spent about a month’s time posi-
tioning his troops throughout Picenum, the territory north of Corfinium, a
region where the people were traditionally loyal to his chief rival, Pompey;
Caesar had made sure to secure control of the major towns of the area with
his own soldiers and to recruit new men from there to prevent Pompey and
his comrades from using the resources (human and otherwise) of Picenum.
Domitius believed that he could hold up Caesar’s southward march, giv-
ing Pompey more time to prepare his defense in southern Italy; in addition
to Roman senators and equestrians who had joined him there, Domitius
had gathered between 10,000 and 15,000 soldiers from the citizens in the
area around Corfinium. This ancient town had played no recorded part in
the history of Rome until the early first century BCE, the time of the earlier-
noted Italian uprising against Rome, but it did occupy a strategic location,
at the best crossing for the river Aterno (Aternus) on a major Roman high-
way, the Via Valeria. Caesar could not allow Domitius to hold on to that
position.
238
On receiving word that Caesar was approaching Corfinium with two le-
gions (fewer men than Domitius himself had raised), Domitius attempted
to prevent his crossing of the Aterno by sending one-fourth of his men
to destroy the bridge that spanned the river, about three miles away from
the town. They failed in this mission, however, as Caesar’s vanguard drove
them back to Corfinium; the rest of his troops followed, crossing the river
without further incident. Domitius assembled his troops inside the town,
bolstering their spirits with rousing words and promises of rewards in land
if they fought well, assigned them to their defensive positions along the
walls, and positioned artillery there as well; he had closed off the city to
Caesar, who now encamped outside its walls.
Both armies prepared for a siege, but Domitius also sent special messen-
gers to ask for urgent help from Pompey, who was recruiting men about
sixty miles away. When those messengers returned, however, the news they
brought back from Pompey was sour. Apparently, he felt little confidence in
his own soldiers and so refused to come to Domitius’s aid, especially since
it seemed pointless to Pompey to engage in a siege operation with Caesar’s
forces, who would not, he believed, engage in an open battle that would
bring this Civil War to a speedy conclusion. He also scolded Domitius for
setting himself up in such a defensive situation, which Pompey had not en-
couraged or ordered. That Domitius extricate himself and his forces from
Caesar’s blockade before it was too late and proceed to join Pompey in
southern Italy was the latter’s strong advice.
Domitius’s heart sank when he read Pompey’s words, but he concealed
the facts of Pompey’s messages except from a few friends; in public, instead,
among his troops and most of his officers, he pretended that Pompey was
on his way to help them. To save himself and his confidantes, Domitius
planned a secret escape, but the secret got out and his angry and disap-
pointed troops gathered to discuss their options.
In the meantime, Caesar’s forces had more than doubled in number with
the arrival of more legionaries, as well as Gallic troops, and even cavalry
from as far away as the Celtic kingdom of Noricum (corresponding roughly
to today’s eastern Bavaria, Austria, and Hungary); the Caesarians had two
camps now, one on either side of Corfinium, and were encircling the town
with forts and an earth and timber rampart. The escape from Corfinium
that Pompey had advised and that Domitius had been secretly planning for
himself looked impossible.
Domitius’s men could not agree on what to do about their precarious situ-
ation and their commander’s treachery; they even became violent among
themselves over their differences of opinion. Eventually, they agreed to ar-
rest Domitius and hand him over to Caesar; they sent a delegation of their
fellow soldiers to Caesar with this in mind and the promise to surrender
Corfinium to him peacefully. Since it was late in the day, however, Caesar
239
Cornelia (d. 69 BCE)
chose not to give his answer yet; he was afraid to enter Corfinium at night
in case there was some ambush concealed in the offer of surrender, and he
was afraid of what his own men might do taking control of an enemy town
under cover of darkness. Instead, he reassured the delegation of soldiers,
sent them back to their comrades, and then posted his men all along the
line of siege works to keep strict watch on the town of Corfinium.
This may have kept Domitius’s soldiers from trying anything against
Caesar’s forces during the night, but it also heightened the fear and ap-
prehension among those soldiers about what Caesar was actually planning
to do to them. With Domitius himself under guard, another senior com-
mander, P. Cornelius Lentulus Spinther, took it upon himself to ease these
tensions by sending word to Caesar asking for a conference. The success
of this one-on-one meeting led to the peaceful surrender of Corfinium to
Caesar at dawn of the next day.
Domitius’s troops joined Caesar’s army, swearing the oath of allegiance
to their new commander; he sent them southward to secure the island of
Sicily for his cause. As for the Roman senators and equestrians, and the
local nobles from the towns of the region, Caesar gave them a brief tongue-
lashing, which provided him the chance to defend his war against Pompey’s
“clique”; otherwise, he pardoned them, which, indeed, gave several of
them, like Domitius and Lentulus, the chance to continue the fight against
Caesar on Pompey’s side. The Siege of Corfinium thus secured more Italian
territory and more manpower for Caesar, but it also slowed down his march
against Pompey by about a week, giving the latter more time to make his
escape to Greece, and further extended the Civil War also by not ending the
lives of some of Caesar’s most determined opponents.
See also: Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Military Discipline; Optimates;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Siegecraft
Further Reading
lishing.

In the Rome of Caesar’s day, marriage among the aristocratic families
tended to have political purposes. Certainly, this can be said about all three
of his marriages, including his first one to Cornelia.
240
Cornelia was one of the two daughters (probably the younger) of

L. Cornelius Cinna the Elder, who used military force to establish a domi-
nant position in Roman politics from roughly 87 to 84 BCE. One of his
primary partners in doing this was Caesar’s uncle by marriage, C. Marius;
judging from the great level of respect Caesar later paid to Marius’s mem-
ory and to that of the latter’s wife Julia, we would be safe in assuming that
young Caesar had a close relationship with his aunt and uncle. This would
explain why the teenage boy was singled out for particular honors, namely,
one most prestigious, appointment to the post of Flamen Dialis, priest of
Jupiter, which normally went to a much older man, and the other most po-
litical, betrothal to Cornelia. Since Cinna himself had, as far as we know, no
reasons of his own for favoring Caesar, both of these honors most probably
came at the request, or insistence, of Marius, and likely before the latter’s
death a few weeks into the year 86 BCE.
Even if the arrangements had been agreed upon before Marius’s death,
Caesar and Cornelia may not even have been formally betrothed by that
point; indeed, the Imperial biographer Suetonius recorded that, two years
later, Caesar was still betrothed to a young woman named Cossutia, mem-
ber of a very wealthy equestrian family in the building trade; he himself
formally broke off their engagement in order to marry Cornelia after his
father had passed away. So, Cinna’s new son-in-law had asserted himself,
personally choosing Cornelia over Cossutia, to make what must have been
to his mind a better marriage alliance with a young woman of the senatorial
order. Caesar would have been sixteen by this point, and modern scholar-
ship presumes that Cornelia was close to the same age.
Caesar defended his marriage to Cornelia on two well-known occasions.
First, when Cinna’s enemy, Sulla, seized control of Rome to become dic-
tator, the latter demanded that Caesar divorce Cornelia. Other former
followers of Cinna had received the same sort of order themselves, com-
manded to leave behind wives associated in some way with Cinna’s regime,
and they complied; Caesar seems to have been the only one who refused to
do so flat out, a bold move for a young man of nineteen. Sulla responded by
confiscating the dowry that Cornelia had brought into the marriage from
her family, confiscating the inheritance Caesar had gotten from his father’s
estate, and stripping from him the priesthood of Jupiter. The young couple
had been thoroughly humiliated in a traditional Roman fashion, but they
stood firm in their animosity toward Sulla; quite fortunately, Caesar had
relatives who could shield him and Cornelia from Sulla’s further wrath.
The second occasion for defending his marriage came in 69 BCE, when
Cornelia herself passed away (at approximately age thirty); the sources fail
to make any mention of the cause. Caesar took the opportunity to deliver
a eulogy at her funeral, a departure from Roman custom, since one did not
make such speeches on behalf of young women, and quite unbecoming of
241
Coronae
a Roman aristocrat of his background, since it was very emotional. Still, in

this way, Caesar publicly proclaimed his deep affection for Cornelia and po-
litical loyalty to her family.
Cornelia and Caesar had, then, been married for about fifteen years.
In that time, they had lived in the Subura district of Rome with Caesar’s
mother, Aurelia. They gave her a grandchild, a girl named Julia, probably
in 73 BCE; Aurelia raised the little girl after Cornelia’s passing.
Caesar appears to have felt real love for Cornelia, though that would not
have mattered as much to the Romans as it does to modern people. They,
instead, would have appreciated his demonstrations of “marital affection,”
his sense of duty toward his wife and their commitment to one another; duty
and loyalty held prominence among Roman virtues. Romans also would
have praised Caesar for his defense of dignitas, his sense of self-worth and
reputation, which came under assault with attacks on his marriage and his
wife’s ancestry. Regardless of his personal feelings, then, Caesar made the
most of his connection to Cornelia for sociopolitical purposes.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian family; Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Dignitas;
Eulogies/Imagines; Julia (d. 54 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Marriage/
Divorce; Mourning/Funerals; Subura; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Routledge.
University Press.
Coronae
Since the early days of the Republic, Roman commanders uncovered the
secret of motivating their troops to do their very best: clear punishments
and clear rewards. Among the highest rewards were the coronae or crowns,
perhaps adopted from Greek culture. By Julius Caesar’s time, particular
military crowns heralded very specific achievements.
242
Coronae
Outstanding soldiers received various physical tokens of honor for their

accomplishments on the battlefield during the Republic. These included
ceremonial spears (hastae) of silver, bands of precious metal worn on the
wrist (armillae), small discs (phalerae) resembling miniature shields at-
tached to one’s armor, also made of precious metal, and other various
items, but especially crowns (coronae).
The coronae were made of specific material depending on the achieve-
ment recognized. For example, a soldier who had been the first to scale the
wall of an enemy fortress received the corona vallaris (as Marc Antony when
fighting Jewish rebels led by Aristobulus), while a similar feat performed
while his own army besieged that enemy town earned the corona muralis;
sometimes, the fine distinction between these two disappears in our sources,
but in either case, the crown seems to have consisted of precious metal fash-
ioned to resemble a miniature wall. The corona graminea, woven out of
grass, honored the soldier who had rescued a besieged town through his
actions. The corona civica, woven from the branches and leaves of the oak
tree (considered most sacred to the Romans’ most powerful god, Jupiter),
recognized a soldier who had risked his life to save a fellow citizen or citi-
zens (usually this meant fellow soldiers in grave danger) during battle; this
was regarded as the very greatest distinction for bravery. About age twenty,
when Caesar was serving on the staff of Governor Thermus in Asia (western
Turkey today), he received the corona civica himself for saving a fellow sol-
dier’s life during the siege of Mytilene on the Greek island of Lesbos.
The troops of a victorious general wore either crowns of myrtle or laurel
leaves (respectively, corona ovationis or corona triumphalis) on their heads
during his triumphal procession in Rome, while he himself might wear the
same or even a corona aurea, a crown of gold, in which the leaves were fash-
ioned out of gold.
Such a high honor entitled the recipient to a variety of social and politi-
cal benefits. For instance, in Caesar’s case, the man he saved (unfortunately
the ancient sources do not preserve his identity) would have been expected,
for the rest of his life, to treat Caesar with the same serious respect due to
a father. In addition, Caesar would have had the right to display his corona
civica not only in his own home but also at public events, as a reminder to
others of the rewards of bravery and the status of the awardee; in fact, it was
traditional to single out such awardees during parades, festivals, and so on.
Such honors could also play their part in special recognition of the recipient
by the Senate and People of Rome; for example, it has been speculated that
the Senate allowed Caesar to campaign for the aedileship two years earlier
than would have been customary because of a special dispensation granted
to him in recognition of his corona civica.
The Roman system of military awards generated incredible enthusi-
asm and courage in the hearts of soldiers, generation after generation, for
243
Courts
centuries. Such awards, like the coronae, also remind us how military values
and achievements pervaded Roman society, from battlefield to home, from
Forum to Senate.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Honor; Le-
gions; Senate; Triumphs/Trophies
Further Reading
Press.
Maxfield, V. 1981. The Military Decorations of the Roman Army. Berkeley and Los
Angeles: University of California Press.
Courts
Throughout the period of the Republic, there was no police force or pub-
lic prosecutor in Rome. This would only be partially remedied by Caesar’s
great-nephew Octavian when he became Augustus, the first emperor of
Rome. For some crimes, a Roman citizen could himself act as judge, jury,
and executioner, such as in the case of catching a thief in one’s home: if the
thief came in armed or at night, the victim had the right to kill the intruder
with impunity. For most crimes, however, the Roman State sought to cur-
tail such private vengeance by legal means. In addition, Roman citizens
had the right of provocatio, that is, appeal to the entire People of Rome, to
contest accusations in most cases. All this meant that most criminal suspects
had to be brought to court.
The wronged individual or someone in the proper position to know that
the crime had been committed brought a formal accusation against the
suspect to one of the Roman magistrates (usually one of the praetors or
aediles), often physically hauling in the defendant by citizen’s arrest; the
magistrate would do this, through his bodyguards, when the suspect re-
fused to come in peacefully and the preliminary determination revealed the
clear merits of the case or when the criminal activity had been widespread
or affected the state and its agents directly. The magistrate might also try
the case himself or he might pass it on to one or more judges (iudices).
The plaintiff and the defendant would go through a registered list of such
judges, who were simply men of property, and usually experience, respected
by the community, and take turns selecting or rejecting these judges until
244
Courts
they agreed upon one or more to actually try the case as delegate(s) of the
magistrate. The number of judges depended on the nature and type of
the issue at hand. For instance, a panel of ten judges was required to hear
cases of disputed citizenship or other questions of legal status; a panel of
105 judges was required to hear disputes over inheritance; in very serious
crimes of a political nature, the examining magistrate might even convene
a special tribunal of senators or a judicial assembly of the Roman People.
During a trial, the burden of proof rested with the plaintiff, not the
defendant: the accuser usually made the first speech, then provided doc-
uments and witnesses as evidence, followed by cross-examination by the
defendant, if considered necessary. Both parties might speak for themselves
or they might rely on lawyers (advocati); women, children, and foreigners
possessed no legal right to defend themselves in court (this rule was in-
tended to protect them against abuse), so male family members, guardians,
or advocates had to speak for them in a trial. The decision of the judge or
judges was considered final, but he or they did not enforce the penalty as-
signed. Instead, for certain cases, the magistrates concerned would impose
their authority (i.e., apply their bodyguards or military troops to the situa-
tion); for others, the plaintiff applied to the magistrates to be deputized to
exact punishment from the convicted person (this was called vindicatio).
Beyond the courts of the magistrates and their judicial deputies, and
often in place of the senatorial tribunals and judicial assemblies, a number
of standing courts (quaestiones perpetuae) existed in Caesar’s day to try par-
ticular offenses against the state or its security, public order, life, personal
integrity, and even morality. Most of these courts only tried members of
the Roman upper classes, whose wealth, power, position, and connections
could make them the greatest threats to law and order.
The first of these standing courts dated back to the efforts of the plebe-
ian tribune L. Calpurnius Piso Frugi, who in 149 BCE passed a law through
the Plebeian Assembly specifically to create a permanent court to hear cases
of extortion and official misconduct on the part of provincial governors.
A panel of some fifty judges, selected by a praetor from hundreds of regis-
tered men, met to hear such cases, assess losses or damages, and facilitate
full recovery (repetundae) or the equivalent for the victims. By the time of
Caesar, the repetundae court had been reformed many times: any Roman
citizen could petition for the privilege of bringing the charge against the
accused governor to one of the standing magistrates, who interrogated
the defendant, recorded the indictment, and fixed the date of the trial. The
magistrate selected seventy-five judges by lot, mostly from the senatorial
and equestrian orders, to hear the case; a majority vote among them deter-
mined the verdict, while a tie vote meant automatic acquittal, and there was
no opportunity for appeal. The maximum penalty consisted of exile, confis-
cation of property, and loss of citizenship; lesser punishments were possible,
245
Courts
but exile at the very least was most common. As consul in 59 BCE, Caesar
set rigorous limits on the amount of money any governor or any other
Roman official in a province could exact from provincial subjects, forbade
those representatives of Rome from distorting justice through corruption,
required them to publicly account for their finances in the province and at
Rome under strict time limits, and reformed the number of witnesses that
could testify at, and voting rules, of the repetundae court.
From Piso’s time to almost the end of the Republic, other prominent
figures introduced legislation to create further permanent courts, most fol-
lowing a similar pattern. These concerned treason (maiestas), bribery (am-
bitus), embezzlement (peculatus), forgery (falsis), poisoning (veneficiis) and
murder (sicariis), and public violence (vis). Among these, the most inter-
esting and relevant to Caesar’s time period are treason, murder, public vio-
lence, and bribery (which can be found under its own heading).
Building upon an earlier, emergency law enacted during the war between
the Roman State and King Jugurtha of Numidia (during which a num-
ber of prominent Romans colluded with the king against the interests of
Rome itself), a law of the plebeian tribune L. Appuleius Saturninus, passed
in 103 BCE by the Plebeian Assembly, established a permanent court to try
cases in which a Roman official, in the course of his duties, damaged the
prestige (maiestas), or really safety, of the state; within its scope, this court
of seventy-five judges brought forward all sorts of offenses that we might
characterize generally as treason, including hostile action against the state
(perduellio) and attempted overthrow of the State (seditio). The vagueness
of such charges opened the accusation of maiestas to a wide variety of activ-
ities, and senators took full advantage of the ambiguity to label their rivals
as traitors, even when they were, in fact, guilty of other crimes.
Before Julius Caesar made changes to it as well, the maiestas court was
modified at least three times, extending punishment to any citizen who
committed treason, not just magistrates and senators. His reform law de-
fined treason as following from the malicious intent of the accused, and in-
cluded acts such as armed sedition, encouragement to mutiny, or any sort
of collusion with foreign enemies, gathering of armed men without official
authorization, attempted or plotted murder of officials, armed seizure of
public buildings, and even delay in laying down one’s provincial command
(especially ironic considering Caesar’s own behavior in Gaul). It established
interdiction (i.e., exile from the city of Rome by a distance of several hun-
dred miles in all directions) as the penalty.
Murder, arson, accidental death in a quarrel, abortion, carrying weapons
with the intent to kill, bribery, false witness, or judicial misconduct that en-
trapped and legally condemned an innocent person in a capital case, even
black magic, were the concerns of the court for murder (sicariis), defined
by a statute of the dictator Sulla. It also established that an armed assailant’s
246
Courts
intent to commit homicide equaled committing that homicide. Aside from

intent, other mitigating factors considered under this law included the
types of weapons used and the “success” of the crime. Punishments varied
according to class: convicted members of the upper classes could expect to
be deported and their property confiscated, while members of the lower
classes would fear crucifixion, burning for those accused of using black
magic, condemnation to work in mines for causing an accidental death, and
exile from Rome for requesting or performing an abortion.
In 52 BCE, Pompey, in his capacity as sole consul with emergency powers,
established a permanent court to try cases of parricide, the crime of killing
one’s parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, siblings, spouse, and
other relatives considered close to the murderer. The court looked for ma-
licious intent and mitigated against such killings committed in fits of mad-
ness or rage, which could be so common in family murders. One might
consider the court’s outlook modern, but the punishment meted out by
the court was certainly archaic: the convicted parricide was flogged with
rods, sewn into a sack with a dog, a rooster, a viper, and a monkey, and thus
thrown into a river or the sea. Not only was this a brutal form of execu-
tion, it was also very symbolic of the community’s rejection of the killer,
beaten in a way that citizens could not usually be, imprisoned (though not
for long, presumably) with wild animals instead of fellow humans. In addi-
tion, the punishment symbolized the removal of the killer from the natu-
ral world: sewn up in the sack, he or she was deprived of air and kept from
swimming in the water; thrown into the water, he or she was deprived of
standing on firm ground.
Pompey also passed through a law to create a standing court on vio-
lence (vis) in the city of Rome. Before that time, the praetors, especially the
urban praetor, had jurisdiction over this and issued edicts to guide victims
in their claims for damages; the victims themselves typically had to take ac-
tion against those who perpetrated violence against their persons or prop-
erty. In Pompey’s time, public violence had become endemic and needed a
firm response. His court followed procedures more streamlined than other
courts: written testimony from absent advocates was banned, as were lau-
datory orations and character witnesses; a trial before this court had to be
completed within five days, presided over by an ex-consul nominated by
Pompey but elected by the people; the fifty-one judges were to be selected
from a panel drawn up by Pompey. Naturally, a number of these provisions
no longer operated once Pompey was out of office, and the Senate or par-
ticular magistrates apparently took over his special functions. In addition,
Caesar put into place a law that supplemented Pompey’s; it stipulated that
those convicted be interdicted from Rome.
The standing courts became an arena for political or personal feuds almost
from the start. Caesar, in his lifetime, witnessed many trials of Pompey’s
247
Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE)
associates in the effort to bring down the great man by bringing down his
supporters. For example, Manilius and Gabinius were charged with maies-
tas and repetundae, respectively; the former was acquitted, while the latter
was convicted and exiled. The trials of Caesar’s enemies, Piso (charged with
repetundae) and Catulus (charged with peculatus), seem to have been mo-
tivated by family feuds and competition over offices. There were backlashes
against former supporters of Sulla the dictator, such as Caesar’s own pros-
ecution of Rabirius for murder, and against supporters of Cicero, such as
the Triumvirs’ charges against Antonius Hybrida for repetundae. The gang
leader Clodius, ironically, used the law against violence to attack his rival,
Milo, which was also very much a means of getting at Milo’s backers, Ci-
cero and Pompey.
Trials in Rome’s courts could appear ridiculous. For instance, the evi-
dence against M. Aemilius Scaurus, charged with repetundae when gover-
nor of Sardinia, was overwhelming, yet so many senators came out of the
woodwork to support him that the court voted sixty to eight in his favor.
This might seem a travesty of justice by modern standards, but by Roman
it demonstrated the solidarity of the aristocracy, which, by Caesar’s time,
utilized the courts not primarily to punish criminals but to engage in po-
litical rivalry and propaganda wars about themselves, their allies, and their
enemies.
See also: Equites; Gangs; Legal Profession; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Prov-
inces; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Crook, J. A. 1967. Law and Life in Rome. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Lintott, A. W. 1992. Judicial Reform and Land Reform in the Roman Republic.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Nippel, W. 1995. Public Order in Ancient Rome. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.

During the civil strife ignited by the rival Roman generals Marius and Sulla
in the early first century BCE, the family of M. Licinius Crassus stood on
that side of the political fence opposite from Caesar’s family; while the lat-
ter favored Marius and his ally Cinna (Caesar’s aunt was married to Marius
and Caesar himself to Cinna’s daughter), the former fought against them.
Crassus’s father, in fact, stood as one of the staunchest senatorial opponents
of Cinna and Marius in 87 BCE; his death and that of his eldest son, by sui-
cide or execution, we are not sure, came as a direct result of this opposition,
248
Marcus Licinius Crassus as portrayed by Sir Laurence Olivier, from

the motion picture Spartacus (1960), directed by Stanley Kubrick.
(Universal International Pictures/Photofest)
as did Crassus’s flight from Rome to Spain, where his father had friends.
When Sulla largely destroyed the faction of Marius five years later, Crassus
and his privately raised army were there and indeed integral to that success;
on the flip side, Caesar, as one of the surviving “Marians,” found his life
in serious danger and had little choice but to exile himself from Italy until
tensions cooled. Looking at things from that time and place, it would have
surprised any observer to know that in the future Crassus and Caesar would
become close associates and help to destabilize the Republic for their own
interests.
Crassus profited enormously and conspicuously from the sale of prop-
erties confiscated from Sulla’s political enemies. He soon parlayed these
ill-gotten gains into even larger sums of money by investing in more valu-
able land and silver mines, not to mention people, especially in the form of
highly trained and well-treated slaves. Notoriously, he also further profited
from fires in the city of Rome, where some of his slaves, trained to fight
fires, would stand by and do nothing until the owner of the burning prop-
erty sold it to Crassus at a cut-rate price.
Not surprisingly, Crassus became the wealthiest man in Rome, “Crassus
Dives,” but he was also one of the most popular senators, because of his
eagerness to show hospitality to others, seen in friendly and frequent invi-
tations to dine at his home for meals that, remarkably, were not that much
249
more lavish or formal than those he used to eat with his brothers and father,
and his eagerness to come to the aid of others in need. Always available
and willing, though often self-serving in doing so (which no Roman would
have taken amiss), Crassus placed his highly cultivated oratorical skill and
knowledge and his considerable wealth at the disposal of his fellow Ro-
mans. In this way, he acquired more influence in politics and especially in
the Roman law courts than his chief rival, the precocious general Pompey;
even here, though jealous of Pompey ever since the latter received favor-
itism from Sulla, Crassus showed no malice and instead offered assistance
when he could. Crassus preserved perhaps better than any other leader of
his generation a devotion to the old Roman traditions of patronage and
clientship.
Aside from his participation in the Civil War of the 80s, Crassus did
not do much in the military arena. His big claim to military fame came
in late 72 BCE with his command against the rebel gladiator Spartacus.
Crassus at the time did not hold an official magistracy in the Roman
State, so the grant of military command was extra ordinem, an extraordi-
nary or special commission from the Senate, like those already granted to
his rival Pompey. In fact, over the previous two years, the regular armed
forces of Rome under their regularly elected commanding officers had
suffered terrible defeats at the hand of Spartacus’s massive “slave army”
not once but four times, leaving Spartacus virtually free to roam all across
Italy at will. In addition, the situation was peculiar because Crassus faced
the necessity of bankrolling his own army (eight legions, roughly 40,000
men) to do so, rather than relying on the state treasury (strained to the
limit by foreign wars and the slave army’s ravages in Italy); of course,
out of his enormous wealth, Crassus could afford it, another reason for
tapping him on the shoulder for this task. Not all senators approved his
extraordinary appointment, but extreme fear and panic had gripped the
city in the aftermath of Spartacus’s victories, and Crassus, in addition to
his other assets, could call in favors from many politicians to collect their
support.
Crassus rebuilt the Roman forces in the field from the ground up, one
might say, especially by imposing strict training and discipline among the
troops, who were prone to desertion, lacked morale, and were simply ter-
rified of fighting the rebel slaves. Some sources record that he even took
the potentially disastrous step, considering the freewheeling behavior of
the Roman soldiers in those days, of reintroducing the ancient punish-
ment of decimation for cowardice and insubordination; this meant that
every tenth man in the army, regardless of his own conduct, faced execu-
tion as an example to all others, an inducement to obey and fight well.
Crassus also demonstrated strong tactical skill in maneuvering Spartacus’s
army into confined, siege-like straits and eventually into a fatal, open-field
250
confrontation. Crassus’s men held firm and achieved a bloody victory in

that long and terrifying final battle.
So, by the spring of 71 BCE, after only about six months, Crassus had
fulfilled his special mission, accomplishing what the usual defense forces of
the Republic had not been able to do in two years’ time; he had suppressed
a revolt that differed quite significantly from slave uprisings that had taken
place in previous generations. Well-trained gladiators had led this uprising
and they trained the strong backs they recruited in support from the Italian
countryside in the latest gladiatorial techniques. This meant military skill at
least on a par with that of the average Roman soldier, welded to an enthu-
siastic desire for personal freedom.
Nevertheless, the Senate denied Crassus a ceremonial triumph, because
his opponents had been “merely slaves,” and he faced the insulting humor
of Pompey, who having returned to Italy in time to intercept and execute
some of the fugitives, claimed that he, not Crassus, had really ended the
“war of the gladiators.” Having stolen from Metellus Pius the glory of
beating the Spanish rebels under Sertorius, Pompey thus tried to steal from
Crassus the glory of beating Spartacus. The simple fact was, as noted ear-
lier, that unlike many of the famous names of his generation, Crassus had
not built up much of a military reputation. Despite his real success over the
threat posed by Spartacus’s army, this lack of military glory came to really
bother Crassus and to affect his decisions later in life.
Pompey’s behavior toward Crassus intensified the already smoldering
antagonism between the two men: Crassus was jealous of the younger,
more militarily renowned Pompey; Pompey feared the wealthier, more po-
litically savvy and connected Crassus. Still, they pooled their influence and
certainly their military manpower at that moment in time (encamping their
armies just outside the walls of Rome while elections took place in late
71 BCE) in a cooperative, self-interested effort against the Republic; they
both demanded to be made consuls for the year 70 BCE and, needless to say,
they got what they wanted.
Furthermore, as consuls, they proceeded to unravel several key decisions
of their former leader, Sulla. By arranging to restore full powers to the ple-
beian tribunes and reinstate members of the equestrian order as judges in
the high courts of Rome, they won massive support from two key constitu-
encies in the Roman society; they went further by backing the recall of and
restoring citizenship to political exiles. Finally, they pushed the censors of
70–69 BCE to register hundreds of thousands of new citizens from across
Italy so they could vote in Rome and run for office. Crassus and Pompey
thus amassed a huge clientela for themselves and, though former henchmen
of Sulla, irreparably shattered the conservative constitution he had built.
This set them at odds, if they were not already, with the Optimates, those
senators who favored such a constitution.
251
While Pompey continued to hunt for chances at military glory in the fol-
lowing years, Crassus turned again to focus on increasing his wealth and the
number of Romans indebted to him for one thing or another. This brought
into his orbit two prominent younger senators, Catiline and Caesar. The
former association quickly landed Crassus in hot water, as he was suspected
of collaborating with Catiline in the latter’s conspiracy against the elected
government of Rome; distancing himself from the revolutionary firebrand,
Crassus turned state’s evidence, cooperating with one of Catiline’s prime
targets, the consul Cicero.
Of greater historical moment, perhaps, was Crassus’s association with
Caesar in the 60s. They seemed to agree on certain aspects of policy, for
instance, enfranchising the populations in Italy north of the Po River, who
were still not Roman citizens; and, despite the fact that Caesar was person-
ally friends with Pompey, Crassus clearly considered Caesar a good risk and
a promising talent, as he rescued the young senator from bankruptcy at the
hands of creditors, thereby giving Caesar the chance to assume a beneficial
stint as governor in Spain.
When Caesar returned from Spain, he reconciled Crassus and Pompey
sufficiently to create the “First Triumvirate,” a coalition of political and fi-
nancial resources that had the power to outmaneuver their mutual Opti-
mate enemies in the Senate. In the short term, Crassus gained the most out
of their arrangement: more clients, more wealth, another consulship, and
another military command. He remained throughout the most invisible of
the three men, the least watched and thus the least attacked. He already had
his hands in so many aspects of Roman life, political and commercial, that
it was hard for Crassus to lose by being part of the pact; he simply accrued
more power and influence by siphoning it off from his partners.
In competition over military glory with Pompey, and now also with Cae-
sar, who was making a fast name for himself through his wars in Gaul
(roughly modern France), Crassus secured for himself the provincial gov-
ernorship of Syria for five years. He was filled with almost childish abandon
over this, hoping, from this post, to provoke a war of great achievement
against the Parthian Empire, to “out-glory” both of his partners and all
previous Roman generals by leading his armies all the way to India and the
“Outer Ocean.” His former commander, Sulla, had been the first Roman
envoy to meet with Parthians and to establish good relations between
their empire, which extended over much of the Middle East, and Rome’s;
his rival, Pompey, had soured those relations a bit during his war with
Mithradates of Pontus and Tigranes of Armenia. As cousins of the today
more-famous ancient Persians, the Parthians sought to expand their con-
trol as far west as the old Persian Empire had stretched, that is, into terri-
tories like Asia Minor (modern Turkey), Syria, Palestine, and Egypt where
the Romans were determined to hold sway, directly or through alliances.
252
Thus, by the time Crassus set out for his command in the fall of 55 BCE,
Roman relations with Parthia were hostile and his unauthorized war was
possible.
At first, in several brief incursions into Parthian territory in 54 and 53
BCE, Crassus’s army suffered no problems. Yet, Crassus delayed in pressing
home his advantage and later ignored reports of huge enemy forces. Then,
his new allies among the Arabs betrayed him with reckless advice in collu-
sion with the Parthians, and the latter prevented Rome’s allies in Armenia
from providing troop support. Crassus found his army maneuvered into
the open, where they were gradually surrounded and picked apart by Par-
thian cataphract lancers, mounted archers, and slingers. Crassus tried hard
to encourage his troops, coping all the while with the personal grief at hav-
ing lost his son, a former officer also of Caesar’s, who was beheaded by the
Parthians after a gallant stand-off.
Surrounded under siege at the fortified town of Carrhae, Crassus’s sur-
viving men insisted that he negotiate with the Parthian general, Surenas,
but the latter treacherously seized Crassus and beheaded him as well. After-
ward, the remnants of the Roman force were massacred, with only a small
number of them making it out of the desert alive.
The disaster at Carrhae was a blemish on Roman dignitas that the state
long sought to erase. Furthermore, it opened a greater rift between Pom-
pey and Caesar; without Crassus, there were not three interests to balance
off against each other, but only two, and this intensified their competition
and endangered the Republic.
See also: Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Courts; Dignitas; Equites; Magistrates/
Cursus Honorum; Optimates; Parthia; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Proscrip-
tions; Spartacus (Film 1960); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Handford, S. A. 1964. Sallust: The Jugurthine War and the Conspiracy of Catiline.
New York: Penguin Publishing
Seager, R., and R. Warner. Plutarch, Fall of the Roman Republic. London and New
York: Penguin.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
Missouri Press.
253
Cremation
Cremation
The Romans practiced the burning of their dead, cremation, and the burial
of corpses, inhumation, as far back as our earliest archaeological evidence
can show. By the time of Julius Caesar, it had become the most common
method for disposing of the deceased within Roman culture; it was the
method he selected for himself, though the actual proceeding would have
probably shocked him.
Certainly, the first written collection of laws of the Romans, the Twelve
Tables of the mid-fifth century BCE, contains references to both cremation
and inhumation. Particular Roman families, especially among the wealthy
elite, could afford to maintain private burial plots or mausolea and did so,
thus developing traditions of inhumation that they maintained for gen-
erations as distinctive marks of identity; most famous in this regard was
the Cornelius clan, containing such families as the Scipiones and the Sul-
lae. Yet, probably under the pressures of population growth, public health
concerns, and shortage of land for cemeteries, cremation grew ever more
commonplace and typical of the Republic from the third century BCE
onward.
Like burials, cremations took place away from areas of habitation; in the
early days of Rome, for instance, the swampy valley of the Forum and the
slopes leading down into it were used, not where people lived on the tops
of the “Seven Hills.” In later centuries, Roman law prescribed that buri-
als and cremations occur outside city limits, which then encircled most of
those hills; this also applied to any town where Roman law prevailed. That
is why cremations at Rome were often performed in the Campus Martius,
Detail of an ancient Roman sarcophagus found near Avignon, France. The ashes or
the corpses of deceased Romans frequently received interment in such receptacles,
sculpted with scenes commemorating that person’s life. In this case, the scenes
suggest that the deceased was a wine merchant. (Steve Estvanik/Dreamstime.com)
254
Cremation
the “Field of Mars,” a large, fairly open plain to the northwest of the city
proper. As part of the larger funeral rites, professionals called ustores set up
temporary enclosures around funeral pyres (the entire place an ustrina)
where they took care of the business and then handed over the ashes of the
deceased to family members or friends tasked with placing these in an ap-
propriate urn.
The most famous cremation in the history of the Republic, and per-
haps of all Roman history, that of Julius Caesar on March 20, 44 BCE, did
not come off in such a professional way. Caesar’s intention, apparently,
had been to be cremated and interred on the Campus Martius near the
tomb of his daughter, Julia, perhaps even inside it, next to her own urn.
In the aftermath of the eulogy delivered by his friend and associate, Marc
Antony, however, the crowd of spectators gathered in the Roman Forum
simply went berserk and took it upon themselves to cremate Caesar right
then and there, disregarding any taboos against such activity in the heart of
the inhabited city. They entered nearby buildings, such as the basilicae or
meeting halls that flanked the Forum center, and the businesses (tabernae)
round about, and grabbed whatever flammable materials they could carry,
including especially wooden furniture. They piled all this up, put Caesar’s
body on top of it, and set it ablaze. Persons then took firebrands from the
pyre and ran to the houses of Caesar’s assassins in an attempt to burn their
houses down.
As thoroughly unorthodox and contrary to tradition as all this was, it
was, in fact, not something brand new. Eight years earlier, a mob of angered
and distraught citizens had brought the body of another popular hero,
P. Clodius, into the Forum to cremate it. On that occasion, they actually
hurled the corpse into the Senate House itself and burned the entire struc-
ture down to the ground.
Cremation in Rome of the Late Republic, then, might be coupled with
arson and mass anger to make a statement of protest with political implica-
tions. Fortunately for public order, safety, and the sanity of loved ones, this
treatment of what should have been a much more solemn ceremony did
not become a trend.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Campus Martius; Clo-
dius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Curia; Eulogies/Imagines; Forum Romanum; Julia
(d. 54 BCE); Mourning/Funerals; Names
Further Reading
of Michigan Press.
255
Crossing the Rubicon

sity Press.
University Press.

One of the most famous phrases describing the actions of Caesar, this re-
fers to the little Rubicon River (modern Rubico Fiumicino or Pisciatello)
in northeastern Italy, midway between the towns of Ravenna and Armi-
num (modern Rimini). By Caesar’s time, the Rubicon was the designated
boundary line between Italy proper and the provincial region Romans called
Cisalpine Gaul (roughly today’s Italian provinces of Liguria, Piemonte,
Lombardia, Veneto, Friuli-Venezia-Giulia, and some of Emilia-Romagna);
it thus constituted the limit of Julius Caesar’s provincial command, his pro-
consular imperium. To cross it and enter the rest of Italy without permis-
sion of the Roman Senate and People of Rome was considered an act of
treason.
Late Medieval Illumination by

Jean Fouquet (1420–1480)
depicting Julius Caesar crossing
the Rubicon. Louvre Museum,
Paris, France. (Jean Fouquet/
The Bridgeman Art Library/
Getty Images)
256
Caesar was headquartered at Ravenna, poised there to receive news from

Rome about his political future with the Senate and the machinations of his
rivals; on January 1, 49 BCE, the latter proposed a senatorial decree insist-
ing that Caesar give up command of his provinces and armies and return
as a private citizen to Rome or be declared a public enemy (hostis); to have
agreed to do so would have made Caesar vulnerable to judicial attack by his
political opponents and perhaps worse. Two of the plebeian tribunes, Marc
Antony and Q. Cassius Longinus (cousin of the Cassius who would later
assassinate Caesar), vigorously vetoed the measure only to be met by a mob
who drove them out of Rome, basically on pain of death.
This mistreatment of the People of Rome’s representatives, who fled to Cae-
sar for protection, allowed him to pose as the defender of the People of Rome
against a wicked faction dominating the Senate and riding roughshod over the
Republic itself. On January 7, the Senate passed an emergency decree against
him, and many of his friends in Rome fled to his camp in Cisalpine Gaul.
The Optimates in the Senate had forced the issue and surely realized that
Caesar would respond militarily rather than surrender, but they did not an-
ticipate the cunning and speed of his response; he immediately sent orders
to his forces in Gaul to join him as soon as possible and then, three days after
receiving word that the Senate had passed the resolution against his contin-
ued provincial command, on January 10, 49 BCE, he sent a small, covert ad-
vanced force of picked men across the Rubicon into Italy proper to secure
the town of Ariminum. Caesar himself spent the day watching gladiators,
bathing, and dining with guests to divert suspicion; that night, however, he
and several friends snuck to the Rubicon themselves by unfrequented paths.
After a period of discussion, hesitation, and soul-searching, he crossed the
stream. By doing so, he committed himself to war against the Republic or at
least against those who claimed to represent its interests against his.
In modern parlance, we use the phrase “crossing the Rubicon” to refer
to a decision from which there is no turning back. According to later au-
thors, like Plutarch and Suetonius, Caesar expressed it himself in Greek in
the words of the Athenian playwright Menander, anerriphtho kubos (alea
iacta est in Latin), which means “the die is thrown,” a phrase popular in
contemporary Roman gambling which frequently involved the casting of
dice; once one had thrown the dice, one had to accept the numbers that
came up—there was no turning back.
Interestingly, and deliberately one may assume, Caesar himself makes no
mention of the Rubicon in either his Bellum Gallicum or his Bellum Ci-
vile, and therefore no mention of his hesitation at that stream or his famous
words about casting dice.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Bellum Civile (Caesar);
Calendar; Hostis; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Optimates; Plutarch’s
Lives; Senatus Consultum Ultimum (SCU); Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE)
257
Crucifixion
CAESAR’S CELERITAS
Julius Caesar had a reputation for incredible celeritas or speediness in
his military operations, especially while on the march.
He could cover some one hundred miles in a day, as in his expe-
dition from Rome to southern Spain in 45 BCE. He could move so
fast that messengers sent on ahead or enemy scouts with information
about his impending arrival did not reach their destination before he
himself did. One of the most famous occasions on which he demon-
strated this celeritas was his crossing of the Rubicon River to invade
Italy proper in the winter of early 49 BCE. His rivals in Rome all knew
that the vast majority of his soldiers were still beyond the Alps. Yet,
Caesar knew that those enemies would need time to bring in from the
provinces the resources and manpower that could check his advance.
During his Gallic campaigns, he had already repeatedly shown that
he could employ lightning speed whenever needed, on one occasion
even marching to a point of action while uniting his forces, though
scattered themselves in winter quarters, along the way; he himself
came all the way from south of the Alps, where he had been spend-
ing the winter months. Thus, in 49 BCE, he was already famous for his
quick military maneuvers and would not allow his Roman adversaries
any more time than he did his Gallic ones. Immediately on receiving
news of the Senate’s decisions against him, he sent orders to his forces
in Gaul to join him as soon as they were able and proceeded with his
invasion only with the very small force at hand. Taking action rapidly
and unexpectedly had become Caesar’s trademark.
Further Reading
Holland, T. 2003. Rubicon: The Last Years of the Roman Republic. New York: Ran-
dom House, Inc.
Crucifixion
Crucifixion was a method of punishment long before the Romans became
a power in the Mediterranean world. Much later Roman law allowed this
penalty to be inflicted upon lower-class Roman citizens convicted of in-
cest or treason, but, during the Republic, it does not seem to have been
258
Crucifixion
A Crucifixion in the Time of the Romans by Vasily Vereshchagin (1842–1904). The

image evidently depicts the famous execution of Jesus of Nazareth and two thieves.
(Library of Congress)
employed against any Roman citizens or against the well-to-do among their
subjects. It was employed, instead, against men and women of low social
standing within those subject populations when guilty of murder and espe-
cially against slaves when guilty of severe disobedience or rebellion.
There is a famous case of Caesar himself employing crucifixion, but with
a twist, against men he and other Romans like him would have seen as com-
mon criminals. Around the year 75 BCE, he found himself captured by Cili-
cian pirates, while sailing off the west coast of Asia Minor (modern Turkey).
Pirates plagued the waters of the Mediterranean world in those days and
they often lay in wait to seize passing vessels, loot their cargoes, and ran-
som off the crew and passengers; they demanded a huge sum, fifty talents
(roughly equivalent to the annual wealth of a Roman senator), for Caesar’s
release. While they kept him in their hideout, their young, prideful prisoner
taunted the pirates with a kind of macabre sense of humor, promising to
execute everyone of them once he gained his freedom. Stealthy, skilful, and
sure of themselves, his captors disregarded Caesar’s remarks as the talk of
a young fool, proverbially louder in its bark than its bite. Once his ransom
had been paid and he had been released, however, Caesar, only a private
citizen, collected a fleet of ships from the allies of Rome in that region,
259
Crucifixion
searched out the whereabouts of the pirates, and arrested them. When it
looked like the Roman governor with jurisdiction over them was tempted
by the wealth of the pirates to let them go, young Caesar took it upon
himself to bring them out of custody and have them all executed. He had
sworn to them that he would crucify them, and, when the moment came,
he did so, but only after first having their throats cut.
The Imperial biographer Suetonius credits Caesar with showing great
mercy in this way; the latter certainly understood the gruesomeness of true
crucifixion, which Romans regarded as one of the summa supplicia (best
conveyed perhaps through the phrase “aggravated execution”). The most
typical method involved the erection of a temporary wooden post, perhaps
twenty feet tall, and the tying of the condemned person by means of ropes
to the crossbeam set on top of the post; nails might also have been used
to attach the person to the cross, but this seems to have been less com-
mon. Death occurred as a result of a combination of factors, especially the
gradual distending of the abdomen as the force of gravity pulled down on
the hanging prisoner, which caused internal bleeding and prevented the
diaphragm from functioning; exposure to the elements also contributed to
death. Crucifixion, then, intentionally caused and displayed a slow, agoniz-
ing end to life, usually over the course of three or more days.
Caesar had given his prisoners a quicker, less painful death, but, since he
had already killed them, there seemed to be no need for crucifixion, too.
Clearly, Caesar intended the further punishment of display on the cross to
serve as a deterrent against further piracy. Considering how widespread
piratical activity was in that region at that time, others would have agreed
with his method. His action did little, if any, good, however, as the repeated
dispatch over the following decade of Roman commanders and forces to
quell continued piracy demonstrates.
Within just a few years of Caesar’s experience with crucifixion, one of his
friends and political associates, M. Licinius Crassus, would make use of it
on the most spectacular scale ever in the annals of the Republic. In 71 BCE,
he crushed the uprising of the famous gladiator, Spartacus; in the aftermath
of his victory, Crassus crucified close to 6,000 of the gladiator’s followers.
Thus, those who had survived the slaughter now graced the sides of the Via
Appia or Appian Way, an important Roman road that stretched for hun-
dreds of miles from southeastern Italy up to Rome itself.
The deliberately public nature of crucifixion served not only to punish the
criminal but also to deter others from following in his or her footsteps. In all
these ways, crucifixion in the Roman context is most reminiscent of the cus-
tom of public lynching in American history, especially in the American South.
See also: Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Piracy; Slavery/Slaves; Sparta-
cus (Film 1960)
260
Curia
Further Reading
Bauman, R. A. 1996. Crime and Punishment in Ancient Rome. London and New
York: Routledge.
University Press.
Hengel, M. 1977. Crucifixion in the Ancient World. Philadelphia: Fortress Press.
Jones, A.H.M. 1972. Criminal Courts of the Roman Republic and Principate. Ox-
sity Press.
Curia
The Curia, located at the northwestern corner of the Forum Romanum
or Roman Forum, served as the primary meeting place for the Senate of
Rome through most of its recorded history.
According to tradition, the Roman king, Tullus Hostilius, commissioned
the construction of the Curia in the fifth century BCE. The oldest archaeo-
logical traces are difficult to identify, however, because the substructures of
this original building are now those of the much-modified Catholic Church
of Luca and Martina. The Senate met on the site where this church now
stands until the building suffered damage in the nearby Capitoline fire of
83 BCE; Civil War interfered with restoration efforts of the Curia until the
dictatorship of Sulla in 81 BCE. The building suffered extensive damage
again in 52 BCE, thanks to the funeral pyre for the popular tribune Clodius,
which enraged mobs of his supporters made sure engulfed the Curia also in
flames. Sulla’s son, Faustus, as a point of family honor, accepted the Sen-
ate’s commission to rebuild their meeting place, but it is unclear whether
this reconstruction was ever finished before Caesar decided to erect a new
Curia in a brand-new location, parallel to the Basilica Aemilia alongside
the street called the Argiletum. Its relatively simple design and dimensions
(a rectangle approximately eighty feet long by fifty-five feet wide, extend-
ing upward to a height of sixty-five feet) encapsulated the mathematical
principles of one of Caesar’s best military engineers, Vitruvius Pollio, who
would go on to become a famous architect and scholar, and argued that
such meeting places should be as tall as the sum of their width and height
divided by two, probably as a means to maximize their acoustic potential.
Approximately 300 senators could have been accommodated within the
building, seated on wooden chairs placed in rows extending from either
side of the door way; an open space in the center of the room ended with
a raised platform for the presiding officer(s) of the Senate.
261
Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Inaugurated by Caesar’s great-nephew, the emperor Augustus, in 29 BCE

with the installation of a golden statue of the goddess Victory, the Curia
Iulia served the meetings of the Senate (with one more restoration after a
fire in the late third century CE, this version being, more or less, the one
visited by tourists today) for over 500 years.
See also: Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Forum Romanum; Senate; Sulla
(ca. 138–78 BCE); Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Books.
versity Press.
Curio (d. 49 BCE)

When the opponents of Caesar in the Roman Senate sought to force him
home from the security of his provincial command in Gaul (roughly mod-
ern France), he fully realized the necessity of winning over to his cause
as many other senators as he possibly could and by whatever means. This
meant reaching out even to those who had disagreed with him in the past
in the hope that they would work with him in the present, if properly per-
suaded. This group of senators included C. Scribonius Curio.
Certain members of the Senate, especially the self-styled Optimates
(“best ones”), had been making noises about removing Caesar from his
provincial command almost from the time it began in 58 BCE. By the end
of 52 BCE, with his primary objectives achieved and all the Gallic tribes in
submission to Roman power, Caesar really had no reason to stay on in his
province except as a means of protection from his political enemies; they
could not very well do anything to harm him, defended as he was by tens
of thousands of loyal Roman legionaries and Gallic auxiliaries, unless they
wished to start a Civil War. They did not, but they suspected that Caesar
had such an intention; at the very least, he wanted to avoid prosecution for
a number of past wrongs and use his armed forces as leverage to advance
his political career further. In other words, in the eyes of his opponents
in Rome, prolonging his provincial command had no legitimacy; rather it
meant prolonging the threat Caesar posed to the stability of the Republic
262
Curio (d. 49 BCE)
and enabling him to intimidate the Senate and People of Rome into com-
plying with his wishes. The pressure on Caesar to give up his provinces
and return to civilian life therefore increased considerably after 52 BCE.
Among those senators who agreed with this point of view was Curio. Son
of one of the well-known Optimates, Curio developed a strong reputation
for his oratorical skill (which gave him the excuse to charge very high fees
for his services as an advocate in the law courts). He belonged to a highly
intelligent and talented younger generation of the senatorial elite, those
born in the 80s BCE, many of whom fell under the spell of the famous orator
and statesman, M. Tullius Cicero, not only attempting to imitate the latter’s
example as an educated rhetorician but also as a defender of the Republic’s
traditions and a promoter of concord within the upper classes across Italy;
indeed, Curio and Cicero personally became good friends, with a great deal
of respect for one another. Letters exchanged between them make clear
the high expectations Cicero, in his role as older friend and mentor, had
for Curio’s future career and his potential as a leader in politics.
Like the politician Clodius before him, however, whose widow, Fulvia,
he, in fact, married, Curio also had a reputation for being a bit of a loose
cannon, impulsive and cunning. He spoke out in political opposition to
Caesar, as his father had done in the past and continued to do (until his
death in 53 BCE); the elder Curio castigated Julius Caesar publicly and
in writing for being a homosexual and a wife stealer and alleged his in-
volvement in a plot to carry out political assassinations in an attempt to
overthrow the state. Suspiciously, both Curio father and son were later im-
plicated in a plot to assassinate Pompey (and perhaps Caesar as well); their
exoneration only boosted the younger Curio’s reputation among the com-
moners and the upper classes of Roman society, making him the hero of
the story in their eyes, at the embarrassing expense of Pompey and Caesar.
Curio opposed Pompey just as much as he did Caesar, even when the latter
became Caesar’s chief rival and hero of the Optimates in the late 50s BCE;
he never quite forgave Pompey for having allied with Caesar in the past,
marrying the latter’s daughter, and exiling Cicero from Rome.
Curio stood sometimes with the Optimates (as when he announced
his intention to alter Caesar’s agrarian arrangements in central Italy and
declared his hatred for would-be tyrants like the latter), sometimes with
very radical Populares (“friends of the People”). He, thus, struck an inde-
pendent pose and defended his actions on every occasion through quite
formidable eloquence.
In 54 BCE, Curio held his first public office, that of quaestor (“financial
magistrate”); in this capacity, he served as paymaster to the governor of the
Roman province of Asia (modern western Turkey). On his return to Rome,
in the latter half of 53 BCE, he funded magnificent games (as in gladiatoral
combats and beast hunts) in honor of his father’s death (a very traditional
263
Curio (d. 49 BCE)
purpose for such spectacles); he even paid for the construction of Rome’s
first wooden amphitheater as the venue. A year later, he surprised his elec-
toral rivals (including Marc Antony) by competing earlier than expected
for a second public office, one of the ten plebeian tribunes (“spokesmen of
the commoners”); a vacancy had opened up because of the conviction of
one of the tribunes-elect, and Curio won with ease the popular vote as the
replacement.
On assuming his tribunate in December 51 BCE, Curio was in a position
to achieve a great deal. He had a distinguished family background, brilliant
personal qualities, a solid record of public service, and affectionate popu-
larity among Rome’s citizens. It also seemed quite definite that he would
fight for the Optimates against Caesar, since he announced his support for
their side in the continuing debate over the latter’s recall from Gaul and
had made that position even clearer by his presence at the drafting of sev-
eral resolutions in the fall of 51 BCE that would make the removal of Caesar
the top priority of the Senate in the following year. Curio’s closest friends
watched him as he prepared to prevent Caesar from gaining any concession
at all from the Senate or the People of Rome.
Cicero, stationed at the time in a provincial command of his own, wrote
a letter of congratulations to Curio in which he continued a theme found
in the letters they exchanged when Curio had been away from Rome: Ci-
cero praised Curio’s intelligence, wisdom, courage, and force of will, urg-
ing him to maintain his own counsels and not to be swayed by others; he
reminded Curio that he was assuming office at a critical moment in the
history of the Republic and that, as a man of skill and ability, he would be
called upon to play a major part in the unfolding drama.
Cicero must have suspected, when he talked at length about the sway of
others, that Caesar had been trying to get to Curio; indeed, Caesar had to
reconcile with Curio rather than allow such a respected and popular poli-
tician to stand against him so boldly. By February 50 BCE, Caesar had, in
fact, won the tribune over to his side. Caesar had not only built up a pow-
erful military force during his provincial command but also an enormous
treasury from the spoils of frequent wars. He put that great wealth to use,
in part, by bribing senators in Rome; usually, this had some legitimate-
looking purpose, such as support of an expensive project the particular
senator had going. In Curio’s case, Caesar paid off the latter’s consider-
able debts.
In gratitude, Curio began to spy on Caesar’s enemies under the perfect
cover of pretending still to be hostile to Caesar; he even continued public
speeches in opposition to him. In his official capacity as plebeian tribune,
he threw up many motions against other senators; to divert suspicion from
his real purpose (to waste time and thereby delay discussion of Caesar’s
command), he also tried to have extra days added to the Senate’s meeting
264
Curio (d. 49 BCE)
calendar (which would have drawn matters out even further). When all his
motions and maneuvers failed over and over again, he began openly to side
with Caesar, claiming that no one else was supportive of his efforts. In this
way, Curio very cleverly orchestrated his public change of heart.
Having blocked all the many efforts to have Caesar removed from com-
mand or to have his command assigned to replacement governors, Curio
nonetheless maintained a great deal of independence from Caesar; despite
the obvious obligations, he was still no one’s stooge. Even when Caesar did
not sanction them, he pursued measures in opposition to Pompey and the
Optimates, claiming publicly that he had Caesar’s backing; thus, he appro-
priated some of the intimidation factor for himself or won Caesar’s friends
in Rome to causes of his own. These causes became more exclusively Popu-
laris in nature, like a bill to distribute grain to the poor and another to hire
commoners for road-building at public expense.
For his efforts, Curio almost suffered expulsion from the Senate by the
censors in 50 BCE. When he attacked one of them in retaliation, the consul
C. Claudius Marcellus arrested Curio and asked the Senate to pass a series
of motions against him (and, by extension, Caesar). Curio, realizing that
most of the senators present were either in Caesar’s pocket or would not
cross the general by punishing “his tribune,” offered himself up to their
judgment by which he was acquitted.
In his service to Caesar, Curio faced a tough choice between pragma-
tism and friendship. He considered opposing the celebration of thanksgiv-
ing holidays (supplicationes) for the military successes of his friend Cicero
(then governor of Cilicia—southern Turkey—and engaged in conflicts with
the Parthian Empire of the Middle East) because they would reduce the
number of meeting days on which he could propose his own measures and
defend the interests of Caesar. In the end, friendship appears to have won
out, but mainly because he saw that Caesar’s political opponents (who had
become Curio’s main targets) also wished to deny the supplications; Curio
would not stand with them and that would work both in Caesar’s favor and
Cicero’s.
Largely thanks to Curio’s efforts, Caesar held on to his provincial com-
mand beyond the first deadline of March 1, 50 BCE. Throughout the rest
of that year, the Optimates demanded that Caesar give up his command
by a new deadline; they persuaded the Senate, including Pompey, to set it
for the Ides (thirteenth) of November. Curio set himself to do everything
in his power to stop that, forsaking other programs in the process, while
the consul Marcellus (a leading Optimate), responded with speeches de-
nouncing Curio; the Senate delayed in taking any action on the matter.
Other matters pertaining to Caesar gained Curio’s attention in the mean-
time. In the summer of 50, he threw his weight as pontifex behind Caesar’s
friend, Marc Antony, in his election to the College of Augurs (pontiffs and
265
Curio (d. 49 BCE)
augurs were the most important priests of Rome, the latter especially for
their interpretation of messages from the gods); this meant that he worked
against Domitius Ahenobarbus, one of Caesar’s most ardent enemies, who
also sought that priesthood. Curio also tried a little maneuvering appar-
ently to deny or reduce pay for Pompey’s soldiers in Spain (Pompey had
charge of the Spanish provinces at that time); he pulled back from this
scheme, but not without stinging Pompey a bit, who had become more
obstructive to Caesar’s plans by that time.
Caesar hoped to win election as consul and slide safely from his provin-
cial command into a political office of great power. In the late summer of
50 BCE, debate heated up again in the Senate over Caesar’s plan and his
position. Curio offered the Senate a compromise, inspired by a letter of
Caesar’s, that he felt would protect Caesar and calm the fears of a new civil
war (generated by exaggerated rumors about Caesar’s movements): he pro-
posed that both Caesar and Pompey relinquish their provincial commands
and armies to other commanders. This would have been a great concession
for Pompey to make and a circumvention of senatorial resolutions pertain-
ing to Caesar, and, therefore, the Optimates strongly opposed it. C. Mar-
cellus reiterated the aforementioned proposed deadline (November 13)
for Caesar to relinquish his command and countered Curio’s motion with
his own: that Caesar be declared a public enemy (hostis) if he did not com-
ply with the deadline. Outside the Senate, the common citizens made their
sentiments known: they greeted Curio with shouts of applause and gar-
landed him with wreaths of flowers.
The deadline passed, nevertheless, thanks to senatorial inaction and
the continued efforts of Curio. Undaunted by the opposition and real-
izing that his term in office was fast approaching its end, on December 1,
50 BCE, Curio pushed hard for a vote to be taken on his motion, and, to his
great satisfaction, the senators voted overwhelmingly (370 to 22) in Cu-
rio’s favor. If the Optimates, led by Marcellus (who lodged his veto against
the motion), had not refused to go along with the majority vote, the Civil
War might have been averted right then and there. Instead, they stood
against Curio and pushed Pompey into “defending the Republic” against
the “traitor” Caesar.
Exactly one month later, Curio still tried to avert the Civil War by bring-
ing to the Senate a letter from Caesar himself, who promised to adhere to
the terms of Curio’s scuttled motion. This time, with Pompey’s troops just
outside the city, Curio’s was one of only two senatorial votes in favor of
mutual disarmament; all the rest wanted to see Caesar stripped of every-
thing and, thus, precipitated the conflict that would last the next five years.
Curio left Rome with other friends of Caesar to join the latter in north-
ern Italy. With the commencement of hostilities, Caesar made Curio one
of his main lieutenants, entrusting him with gathering soldiers together in
266
Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Italy. He participated in the Siege of Corfinium early in 49 BCE, secured

the island province of Sicily (which had been abandoned by the Optimates
under Cato) in the spring, and then attempted, on Caesar’s orders, to se-
cure the province of Africa (modern Tunisia) in the fall. Successful there
against the Roman forces loyal to Pompey, Curio suffered defeat and death
at the hands of their ally, King Juba I of Numidia (modern Algeria and parts
of Libya).
Curio’s career reveals the complexities of personalities, agendas, and
procedures involved in governing the Late Roman Republic and just what
might be accomplished by a very active, though junior, member of the Sen-
ate in those days. Julius Caesar understood all this and the significance of
gaining someone like Curio for his “team.” He was so successful in acquir-
ing Curio’s support that the latter became perhaps his strongest spokes-
man in Rome and remained loyal to the point of death in a time of bitter
warfare.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE);
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Juba (d. 46 BCE);
Libya/Numidia; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marcellus Cousins; Opti-
mates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
Ltd.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
University Press.
267
D
Dacians
Dacians
The Dacians were a population of mixed Thracian, German, Sarmatian, and
Scythian ancestry who lived in eastern Europe, north of the Danube River;
their descendants are today called Romanians. They prospered by raising
sheep and mining for iron, silver, and gold in the Carpathian Mountains.
During the Hellenistic period after the death of Alexander the Great, many
Dacians adopted Greek ways through trade and conflict; they expanded
their territory southward to the borders of Greece and eastward to the
Black Sea coast. Since the Romans considered themselves the “protectors”
of Greece, this meant confrontations with the Dacians (and other allied
tribes in the area) to prevent their further expansion.
Even Julius Caesar had his quarrel with the Dacians. When Civil War
broke out between him and Pompey, the Dacians agreed to the latter’s re-
quest for military assistance. It is not surprising that Pompey should have
made such a request; Burebista, who had established himself as chief of
the Dacians around the time of Caesar’s first consulship in 59 BCE, had ex-
tended his sway by military means over a substantial territory from modern
Hungary in the north to modern Bulgaria in the south by the time of the
Roman Civil War. The Dacians could thus make formidable allies. Still, it
seems that no Dacian help ever materialized for Pompey’s side.
Caesar never forgot that the Dacians had made a deal to support his op-
ponent, even though it never amounted to more than words. The Imperial
biographer Suetonius tells us that Caesar was planning a major expedition
against the Dacians in 44 BCE, a year after the Civil War had ended. Indeed,
Caesar may have contemplated such a military operation even earlier, back
in 59 BCE, when he had sought the assignment of Illyricum (a perfect stag-
ing ground), as well as Cisalpine Gaul, as his proconsular provinces.
Surely, Burebista’s realm could not have posed the same sort of threat to
Rome as the Parthian Empire did, which Caesar also had plans to attack;
the Dacians probably had not yet developed a centralized state, and they
definitely still had to concern themselves with keeping firmly under their
control the various war-like tribes they had only recently conquered. Per-
haps one method of doing so was Burebista’s crusade against wine-making
in the region, something he could associate with Greek and Roman “deca-
dence,” something, therefore, alien to the “wholesome” tribes of the lower
Danube region. Certainly, a clearer method was the establishment of Da-
cian fortresses across his territories and continuing raids into lands under
Roman protection, like Illyricum to the west and Macedonia to the south.
For Caesar, though, the desire to match or surpass the range of Alexander
the Great’s conquests, and the opportunity for this afforded by penetrat-
ing deep into eastern Europe with a conquest of Dacia, would have been
irresistible.
271
Dante’s The Divine Comedy
Undated etching depicting a scene of Romans and Dacians in battle, from the
Column of Trajan, 113 CE, in Rome, Italy. (Bettmann/Corbis)
Caesar’s own assassination aborted the invasion, as did the assassination

of Burebista at about the same time; apparently, rival Dacian nobles feared
the loss of their own power with the rise of their king’s. Nonetheless, the
Romans did not forget Dacia. Caesar’s great-nephew, Emperor Augustus,
launched a brief invasion, only to find the kingdom in disarray. Much later,
the Emperors Domitian and, especially, Trajan took up Caesar’s unfinished
business; Trajan’s triumphal column commemorating his victory over the
Dacians in 106 CE can still be seen in the ruins of the Imperial Fora of Rome
today. As a result of such military confrontations, Roman and Dacian popu-
lations merged in southeastern Europe and the Dacian heartland became
Romania; the language of that nation is still one of the Romance languages,
that is, an off-shoot of Caesar’s Latin.
See also: Illyricum; Parthia; Provinces; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE)
Further Reading
Press.
Lepper, F., and S. Frere. 1988. Trajan’s Column. Gloucestershire, UK: Sutton
Publishing, Ltd.
MacKendrick, P. 1975. The Dacian Stones Speak. Chapel Hill: University of North
Carolina Press.
Mocsy, A. 1974. Pannonia and Upper Moesia. London: Routledge Ltd.

In the early fourteenth century CE, a Florentine author by the name of
Dante Alighieri (1265–1321) composed a rather long poem of tremendous
272
A much-modified painting of Dante and his Divine Comedy, modeled on the famous
fresco by Domenico di Michelino (1465) in the Duomo of Florence. (Conde/
Dreamstime.com)
significance in literary, cultural, and historical terms. Called by him La

Commedia or “The Comedy,” later writers dubbed it divina or “divine”
since its focus was on man’s path to the Divine and its workmanship so evi-
dently inspired. Produced for what we would call a medieval Christian audi-
ence, The Divine Comedy drew upon a rich tradition of religious belief and
cultural symbolism, as well as political and military history going back
to the ancient Near East, Israel, Greece, and Rome. Indeed, the Roman
general and statesman Julius Caesar appears as one of the key figures in
Dante’s poem.
Members of the Florentine nobility (though on one of the lower rungs),
Dante’s family also had fairly recently received the special favor of the
Holy Roman Emperor, the ruler of central Europe, especially the German
states. His family’s position in the society of his city-state opened the op-
portunity for Dante to receive a very good education, which, in medieval
times, meant considerable exposure to the classics of Greece and Rome. His
learning began in one of the schools operated by the Franciscan order; as
a young adult, he studied rhetoric in the city of Bologna and also became
avidly interested in Christian theology and philosophy and ancient history.
Though primarily a poet, on his return to Florence, Dante served militarily
as a cavalry trooper, seeing action against the city-states of Arezzo and Pisa,
and politically on two of the ruling councils of his city; by 1300 CE, he had
become one of the Priors of Florence, one of its leading officials.
273
The Florence of Dante was a focal point of a revival in the indepen-

dence of city-states in the Italian Peninsula; many of these were becoming
more secular, more militarist, more expansionist, and more manipulative.
They found themselves caught in the greatest struggle of Dante’s genera-
tion, that between the power of the Papacy over all Catholics in Europe
and the power of individual monarchs, who sought to rule their own king-
doms without any interference from the Pope. Dante himself had origi-
nally regarded the Papacy as a benevolent, peace-bringing, unifying force
across Europe and thus belonged to that faction in Italy that stood be-
hind the Pope, the so-called Guelphs. Within Florence, this faction di-
vided over time into two, the so-called White Guelphs, with whom Dante
still sided, and the so-called Black Guelphs, who wished to see the Papacy
go on the offensive against any of its opponents or detractors (e.g., many
kings of Europe), endorsing any means, even the least Christian, to win.
The flagrantly immoral and aggressive behavior of one of these “Black”
popes, Boniface VIII (r. 1294–1303 CE), seriously disturbed Dante and
other “Whites.” In 1301 CE, as a Florentine envoy to Boniface VIII, Dante
found himself detained at the papal residence and was soon exiled from
his own city, which had been taken over by local forces loyal to the Pope.
Since Dante refused to comply with the policies of his opponents back
home, they threatened to burn him alive if he should ever try to return to
Florence. He never did compromise his position, so he never did return.
In his exile, which he spent in various places across northern Italy, he not
only composed his poem The Divine Comedy but also supported the cause
of monarchs as opposed to popes; in the terminology of the time, he be-
came a Ghibelline.
Like his contemporary, the famous scholar Marsilio of Padua
(1275–1342 CE), Dante came to favor the state over the church, since the
melding of religion and power had proven so flagrantly abusive in the his-
tory of Europe and especially of his own city-state; like Marsilio, he saw
in the secular ruler the best chance for social stability, peace, law and jus-
tice, reason, and economic prosperity. Furthermore, as a nobleman in an
era in which a sort of feudalism still prevailed, he looked upon monarchs as
divinely-appointed stewards, as lords of the Lord, deserving of respect and al-
legiance. Such thinking led Dante, in the creation of his great poem, to reflect
through his knowledge of history upon the origins of European rulership and
to search for examples to demonstrate the supremacy of state over church.
In this context, Julius Caesar plays his part in the lessons Dante wished
to teach, especially in the first book of The Divine Comedy trilogy known
as Inferno or Hell. Dante conceives of hell as an enormous pit, reaching
from just under the Earth’s surface down to the center of the Earth and
divided into concentric circles or levels; each level contains sinners pun-
ished in ways appropriate to their particular sins. The narrator of the story,
274
Dante the Pilgrim, sees Julius Caesar close to the Earth’s surface in the First
Circle, known as Limbo. Caesar is here because he never received the sac-
rament of baptism (not surprising considering he died before the time of
Jesus). According to the teachings of the poet’s time, only baptized Chris-
tians could enter Heaven and the poet himself believed that non-Christians
(Jews, Muslims, Greeks, Romans, etc.) would be punished in the deeper
layers of Hell along with sinful Christians. Caesar may have died unbap-
tized, thereby earning him a place in Limbo, but he had not been a sinner in
Dante’s eyes. Indeed, all fitted out in his armor and keenly looking around,
Caesar rather impresses Dante the Pilgrim. As a pagan, though, Caesar is
a hero without a future; since he never knew God through Christianity, he
will be forever lonesome for the love of God, punishment enough for an
otherwise good man.
Despite his own experience with civil strife, Dante apparently did not
blame Caesar for starting a Civil War in ancient Rome. Instead, he laid this
blame on Curio, one of the Roman officials who supported Caesar’s deci-
sion to go to war with his fellow Romans. Dante speaks of Curio as helping
Caesar “cast the die” (a famous phrase from the ancient sources) by over-
whelming all the general’s doubts about invading Italy against the Republic
of Rome. The poet places the figure of Curio much farther down in the Pit
of Hell than Caesar, within the Ninth Bolgia (or section) of the Eighth Cir-
cle, where the sowers of discord suffer punishment by being ripped apart in
various ways (and often knitted back together just in time to be mutilated
again); Curio has completely lost his tongue, the source of his influence in
ancient times.
Though he does not mention Caesar again in the Inferno, Dante does
convey his enormous symbolic importance when he notes the fates of Brutus
and Cassius, the famous assassins of Caesar. The Pilgrim finds them hanging
from two of the three mouths of Satan, who is himself locked deep in the
lowest circle of the Pit, the frozen center of the Earth. Brutus and Cassius are
thus condemned to be forever tortured by the grinding fangs of the Devil,
just like their companion in the third mouth, Judas, the betrayer of Jesus. In
the poet’s conception, Satan and the three men upon whom he constantly
chews each committed the worst of all sins, betrayal of one’s leader.
The very culmination of the first volume of Dante’s The Divine Comedy
places the murder of Julius Caesar practically on the same level as the cruci-
fixion of Jesus; one might argue that the former symbolizes the state, while
the latter symbolizes the church. Considering the times in which Dante
lived, and his own support for state over church, he seems to be making
use of Caesar as the prototype for all contemporary monarchs, perhaps
specifically as the point of origin for the Holy Roman Emperors of his day.
In any event, Julius Caesar, virtuous, led astray by others, and betrayed in
the worst way, occupies a critical position in Dante’s historical perspective.
275
Debt Laws/Loans
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Further Reading
Auerbach, E. 1961. Dante: Poet of the Secular World. Chicago: Chicago University
Press.
Davis, C. T. 1957. Dante and the Idea of Rome. Oxford, UK: Oxford University
Press.
Musa, M. 1971. Dante: The Divine Comedy. New York: Penguin Publishers.
Debt Laws/Loans
Unlike modern governments, the Roman State, for the most part, did not
intervene in the world of credit and debt; private individuals assumed the
risk of taking out loans and paying them back with interest without the
safety-net created by many of our financial laws. Some basic regulations
of credit and debt did exist in Rome as far back as their earliest written
law code, the famous Twelve Tables of the fifth century BCE, but remark-
ably few new rules were put into place by the Senate and People of Rome
afterward, especially considering how much more complex the Roman
economy became over the generations and how many more Romans came
to rely on credit of one kind or another to finance even the most basic
operations and to tide them over in emergencies. Julius Caesar himself
depended on loans for his career. By his day, however, debt had become
not only a financial concern but also a political issue; laws regulating debt
were among the hot-button topics of his time and factored into his own
policies.
The financial sector in Roman society was not only virtually unregulated
but also very decentralized, unlike ours. In today’s world, the most com-
mon place an individual would go for a substantial loan, outside of family
members or friends who might have the means to help, would be a bank,
and modern banks, large and small, are connected to a network of rules,
best practices, and even technology. In the Roman world, such “banking”
was a much more private affair and one would most commonly approach
one’s patron, a person of power and influence who belonged either to the
equestrian or senatorial orders.
Equites, like Cicero’s friend T. Pomponius Atticus, or senators, like
M. Licinius Crassus, thus served as some of the biggest “bankers” in Roman
society, in the sense that they loaned large sums to individuals and busi-
nesses out of their own private wealth. For such men, these transactions
were just one more (among many others) financial operation that brought
them profit and loyalty (especially political) from those they thus assisted;
if not already clients (in the Rome sense of “dependant” or “supporter”
276
Debt Laws/Loans
of a patron), debtors would become clients in this way. Romans also had
the option of seeking loans from a variety of men (and women) outside
the equestrian and senatorial orders who specialized (i.e., made their liv-
ing) in finance (called faeneratores, argentarii, coactores, etc.); again these
individuals ran private, local banking establishments, sometimes organized
into small partnerships, sometimes passed down through the generations,
sometimes even having reach across the Roman Empire, but still never
evolving into the large-scale banking institutions like the ones we know
today.
In this decentralized world of Roman banking, interest rates on loans
fluctuated and varied over time, by region, and according to type of loan.
Efforts on the part of the Roman Republic to intervene and regulate in-
terest rates did not always hold, but they did establish a widely accepted
maximum rate.
By the Late Republic, so much wealth had poured into the Roman lap
from the spoils of conquest, and so much of it had been spent on specta-
cles, entertainments, and grand buildings, that many Roman citizens sim-
ply came to expect to live beyond their normal means and, as voters, to
expect more lavish displays from seekers and holders of political office. War
loot might still be used for such private and public gratification, but, in its
absence, or if it was insufficient, huge financing took its place. Several legal
measures from reform-minded politicians of the late second century BCE,
who attempted to relieve the pressure of mounting private debt both on
the poor and on the wealthy, illustrate the growing severity of the financial
situation.
Some politicians of the early first century BCE were labeled as danger-
ously radical by political opponents who accused them of proposing debt
reduction or outright cancellation. A favorite method of political mud-
slinging and character assassination in those days, this labeling, in certain
cases, might have nonetheless reflected a true aspect of someone’s policy.
For example, Catiline, leader of the most infamous political conspiracy
of the Late Republic, did, in fact, appeal to the masses in Rome, to those
throughout Italy who had been dispossessed by his former commander,
Sulla, and even to members of the aristocracy who had squandered their
fortunes, by proposing a cancellation of all outstanding debts. He had per-
sonal reasons for doing so, because, like so many others who had served
under Sulla, Catiline had ruined himself by taking out too many loans to
live the high life and compete in politics; he, and many others, could have
paid off their creditors by selling off large chunks of their landed estates,
but, in doing so, they would have lost status and also would have driven
down land prices. Instead, he proposed cancellation of debts, posing as the
champion of the “have-nots” against the “haves,” and this served primarily
Catiline’s own benefit.
277
Debt Laws/Loans
Still, he campaigned relentlessly for this cause, even at the cost of prob-
ably his strongest ally in the Senate, Crassus, the richest man in Rome;
having built his life and career on commercial connections and interests,
including the financing of loans as noted above, Crassus could not support
Catiline’s plan. In fact, when various senators accused Crassus of complicity
in Catiline’s conspiracy, Crassus retaliated against their slander by calling in
the loans they and other senators had taken out from him.
Catiline’s objective died with him and his co-conspirators; the Roman
government, under the leadership of Catiline’s nemesis, Cicero, did noth-
ing to address the debt crisis. The only immediate relief for debtors came
from those creditors who agreed on an individual basis to refinancing;
some even generously relinquished their right to interest payments.
Evidence from the era of the Late Republic indicates that certainly the
most substantial loans were contracted by the wealthy, especially the mem-
bers of the aristocracy, from among themselves, primarily for the purpose of
political advancement. Julius Caesar had a notorious reputation in this re-
gard, racking up huge debts, which was one of the reasons some suspected
his involvement in Catiline’s scheme. It was in the very year of that plot,
63 BCE, that Caesar gained election as Pontifex Maximus, head of the priestly
college of pontiffs, largely through massive bribery of the voters. Two years
earlier, as curule aedile, he had outspent not only his colleagues but also his
predecessors in office by staging enormous public entertainments, proces-
sions, and banquets. Two years before that, as curator of the Via Appia,
that is, superintendent of Rome’s most important highway in Italy, he lav-
ished large sums on its maintenance and enhancement. All this required
outlays of money well beyond Caesar’s own fortune; he thus had borrowed
great sums from various creditors. This had become common practice for
politicians of the Late Republic in seeking popularity, yet Caesar seems to
have surpassed them all. Indeed, according to the Imperial biographer Plu-
tarch, he had already amassed a debt of 1,300 talents or 9 million denarii,
approximately forty times the base wealth of a Roman senator, even before
gaining his first public office. Though this may be exaggeration on Plutar-
ch’s part or that of his source, it still speaks of the extraordinary reputation
that Caesar had gained in this regard.
Such indebtedness, which he would have regarded as necessary to po-
litical success and status, nonetheless caused Caesar genuine concern. Al-
ready in 63, he forewarned his mother, Aurelia, for instance, that, if he did
not win election as Pontifex Maximus, he would not return home; in other
words, either his creditors would seize him in lieu of compensation or he
would escape Rome, so they could not easily get at him. When he became
praetor the following year, Caesar did leave Rome for the provincial gov-
ernorship of Further Spain (southern Spain today)—just barely. His ever-
angrier creditors tried in many ways to stop him from leaving, and they had
278
Debt Laws/Loans
the laws on their side. Caesar turned to Crassus for help, who provided
a guarantee to the most demanding creditors from his considerable per-
sonal fortune; to the others, Caesar made various promises and gave various
guarantees of his own that he would return from his post with full repay-
ment of their loans.
This introduces yet another common practice of Roman politicians in
the Late Republic: to fleece provincial subjects through taxation, unwar-
ranted warfare, and other even less justifiable methods to acquire funds to
pay off expenses, including debts, back home in Italy. Caesar did this not
only in Spain, where he pressed local allies for money and plundered enemy
towns even when they willingly surrendered on his terms, but also in the
following decade in Gaul (roughly modern France) on an even more mas-
sive scale, where he attacked communities and sacred sites deliberately for
their riches without much, if any, provocation. Again, Caesar was not alone
in this; even that paragon of virtue, Brutus the assassin of Caesar, who
claimed to stand for justice and rights, milked the population of the island
of Cyprus with loans at exorbitantly high rates of interest to fill his own
purse for similar purposes.
Caesar amassed so much wealth (perhaps one hundred times that of a
typical senator, which was already enormous) during his conquest of Gaul
from 58 to 51 BCE that he himself became a creditor. Hundreds, perhaps
thousands, of citizens, provincials, and even slaves received assistance from
him through loans at low rates of interest and sometimes even interest-free;
in addition, he gave out presents, including grants of cash, on a grand scale.
By 49 BCE, so many Romans were living beyond their means or had oth-
erwise fallen into debt that the economy of the Republic had slid into a cri-
sis of credit. Some of this was caused by the expenses of frequent lawsuits
in those days, but much of this was also precipitated by the looming Civil
War; frightened citizens in the middle and determined partisans on one
side or the other called in their loans from one another, in turn forcing the
rapid sale of land and other properties, often at cut-rate prices, for quick
cash. The market could not handle all this and many debtors could not pay
off their creditors. Caesar, with his incredible wealth and even more incred-
ible generosity, appeared to many as their financial savior in this crisis. Yet,
for his part, according to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar rec-
ognized the true severity of the situation and pessimistically (perhaps self-
servingly) concluded that only a Civil War, which would wipe out so many
creditors and debtors and reshuffle wealth in land and other forms, could
end the crisis.
On becoming dictator for the first time, Caesar paid attention to the
drag on the Roman economy caused by excessive debt. As it turned out,
he had been wrong in his earlier prediction; even Civil War had not solved
matters. Apparently, many of his supporters clamored for a straight-forward
279
Debt Laws/Loans
cancellation of outstanding private debts, which would have been in line

with his supposed Popularis leanings. Instead, Caesar decided on a more
complex plan. He decreed, first, that the property of every debtor be as-
sessed according to its value before the Civil War, not according to the
decreased valuations precipitated by the conflict. Next, the debtor had to
hand over all that property minus the value of the interest he or she had al-
ready paid to creditors. In other words, a debtor could retain a portion of
his or her property equivalent to the interest already paid. This adjustment
of private debts, according to the biographer Suetonius, left many debtors
with only one-fourth of their assets.
Perhaps this was a modified version of the scheme Caesar employed
during the debt crisis in Spain under his praetorship nearly twenty years
earlier. In that case, despite his financial abuse of the population in other
ways, he attempted to redress the mutual grievances between debtors
and creditors by guaranteeing to the former ownership of their property
and one-third of their annual income, while allowing the latter to take
no more than two-thirds of that income as compensation for outstand-
ing debts.
Though seemingly harsh by modern standards, debtors in both Spain
and Rome might have lost everything and have been still liable for more
to their creditors without Caesar’s intervention. His actions created a new
precedent for his successors, the emperors, to follow in terms of slightly
greater hands-on involvement of the government in the financial sector.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian family; Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Catiline
(ca. 108–62 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Coinage/Money; Crassus
(ca. 112–53 BCE); Dictator; Equites; Patrons and Clients; Pontifex Maxi-
mus; Populares; Senate; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Andreau, J. 1999. Banking and Business in the Roman World. Cambridge: Cam-
Barlow, C. T. 1978. Bankers, Moneylenders and Interest Rates in the Roman Repub-
lic. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.
Duncan-Jones, R. 1982. The Economy of the Roman Empire: Quantitative Studies.
2nd ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Shatzman, I. 1975. Senatorial Wealth and Roman Politics. Brussels, Belgium: La-
tomus.
Routledge.
280
Dictator
Dictator
The term dictator did not mean in the Roman context what it has come to
mean in modern times. Today, a dictator would be a leader who rules his
nation with an iron fist, with absolute or near-absolute authority, and who
probably came to power in some nefarious way, as through the manipula-
tion of elections or all-out military takeover. The Latin-speaking popula-
tions of ancient Italy invented the word dictator, however, and they took
it to mean an official of state, chosen by the leadership of that state, to wield
extraordinary powers for the duration of a period of crisis. This definition
applied even in the famous case of Julius Caesar, the last man in Rome to
hold such a dictatorship.
Rare aureus depicting Julius Caesar. Minted in Cisalpine Gaul ca. 43 BCE, this gold
coin illustrates his official positions as Perpetual Dictator (DICT PERP) and Pontifex
Maximus (PONT MAX). (Hoberman Collection/UIG via Getty Images)
281
Dictator
In ancient times, Rome existed as just one of a number of populi, com-

munities, of Latin speakers in central Italy; it became the most successful
of these over time. These populi shared many customs, including the tra-
dition of dictatorship. In cases of extreme emergency, when a populus felt
more than unusually threatened by a foreign foe, its ruling council would
call for the appointment of a dictator to lead the community through
the crisis; sometimes, all of the Latin populi banded together behind one
dictator.
The procedure for selecting a dictator is best known from the instances
in Rome’s history. The Senate (Rome’s ruling council) would vote on the
necessity of an emergency leader; if the majority approved such a need,
one of the top magistrates, those with imperium (i.e., the legal right to
command and demand obedience in battle), would nominate a fellow
senator (perhaps a current officeholder, but not necessarily) as that leader.
If the Senate accepted the nomination, the individual selected would be
authorized to carry out whatever was required to handle the crisis within
no longer than six months’ time. All other officials of state were expected
to assist and obey the dictator in his assignment, but they could resist
his orders and criticize them formally if he seemed to them to be going
beyond certain customary boundaries of behavior and law. The Senate,
too, maintained a degree of oversight in relation to the dictator’s actions.
Thus, for a relatively short period of time, a Roman dictator held extraor-
dinary powers, what we might refer to as martial law today, but with par-
ticular restrictions. There was also inherent in the office an expectation
that it would terminate as soon as the immediate emergency had been
averted.
By the time of Caesar, however, definitions and expectations had changed.
The man largely responsible for that was L. Cornelius Sulla. When Caesar
was about sixteen, Sulla launched a Civil War against the faction formed
by Caesar’s uncle, Marius, and his father-in-law, Cinna. On emerging a
few years later as the victor of that conflict, Sulla easily persuaded what re-
mained of the Senate to implement the procedure that would make him
officially dictator; the Romans had not seen the need for a dictator in over
a century. The highest magistrates of the state, the two consuls, had both
died in the fighting; the Senate chose an interrex (a senior senator of patri-
cian ancestry) as a placeholder in the absence of consuls. An interrex had
the right to hold elections for new consuls or to nominate a dictator; this
interrex did the latter, and the Senate and People of Rome approved the
appointment of Sulla for that position. He would be permitted an unlim-
ited term as dictator, however, and for the unprecedented purpose of “writ-
ing laws and restoring the Republic.” The Senate even voted immunity for
all Sulla’s actions, not only as dictator, but also retroactively for things he
had done during the Civil War. Amazingly, and unexpectedly, Sulla gave
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up his dictatorship after little more than a year, but within that time he
transformed it into a highly politicized position of virtually absolute power
which he utilized primarily to silence and stymie his enemies at home.
Sulla had set the stage for the abuse of the dictatorship leaving a bad
taste even in the mouths of those who had supported him right down to
the time of another Civil War between Pompey and Caesar. Throughout
those thirty-odd intervening years, the Senate had carefully avoided relying
on anyone as dictator, though they had come close by appointing Pompey
as sole consul in 52 BCE during a time of serious domestic lawlessness.
In the fall of 49 BCE, nearly a year into the latest Civil War, a plebeian
tribune friendly to Caesar’s cause proposed a law to the People of Rome
authorizing the latter as dictator. In that capacity, Caesar held elections, in
which he was returned easily as one of the consuls for the following term;
he then resigned his dictatorship, after only eleven days.
Like Sulla before him, Caesar had attained the dictatorship by force of
arms, and some might have thought that Caesar also followed Sulla’s exam-
ple in abdicating the dictatorship quickly. However, Caesar once remarked
that Sulla had been a fool for giving up that position; he proved by his own
actions that he would not do the same thing. Sometime after his victory in
Greece against the forces under Pompey (i.e., late 48 or early 47 BCE), Cae-
sar became dictator again, this time for an unprecedented one-year term.
From the spring of 46 BCE, this was extended to ten years, and in early
44 BCE, it was made perpetual, that is, for the rest of Caesar’s lifetime. To
his dictatorial powers were added many more that belonged to other of-
ficials of state, creating, in effect, a massive redundancy of powers to cat-
egorically identify Caesar as the supreme, legitimate official of Rome, yet
basically above the law, with all other officials as much more his servants
than his subordinates. He had, thus, taken the dictatorship much farther
than Sulla in the direction of one-man rule.
With the ten-year dictatorship of 46 BCE, Caesar implemented a series
of wide-reaching reforms. In several ways, he helped stabilize the econ-
omy and drain Rome of congested population. By correcting abuses and
ending corruption within the system of free grain to the very poorest Ro-
mans, he reduced the number of recipients on the dole by about 50 per-
cent; he also transplanted tens of thousands of poor citizens to colonies
in Italy and the provinces to give them a fresh start as farmers or business-
men. He increased the funds stored in the state treasury through fines, ex-
actions, and other means. He even made adjustments in the law to rescue
debtors and creditors from bankruptcy threatened by a severe financial
crisis. Caesar reduced the threat of gang violence, which had plagued the
city for nearly a decade, through new regulations governing the freedom
of association, and improved the legal system of Rome by making changes
to the composition of the juries and to the penalties for various crimes.
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Dictator
LITTLE CAESAR (FILM 1931)

In 1931, First National Pictures (Warner Bros.) released the film, Lit-
tle Caesar (an adaptation of W. R. Burnett’s 1929 novel by the same
name), starring Edward G. Robinson in the title role of Enrico (Rico)
Cesare Bandello. Rico, Little Caesar, drives himself to rise from small-
time hoodlum to top-level crime boss; his story is one of ruthless
ambition and brutal “civil war,” instigated by him within the mob it-
self for personal advancement. Yet, his demise in the end, ambushed
and “assassinated” by the police, comes thanks to his lingering sense
of friendship and, thus, inability to eliminate all “loose-ends.” So,
aside from the character’s middle name (Cesare, which means “Cae-
sar” in Italian), many thematic elements of the motion picture reflect
an adaptation of certain highlights or characteristics of Julius Caesar’s
story, as interpreted within the framework of the criminal underworld
in early twentieth-century America.
He met some of the administrative needs of the state by increasing the

number of the magistrates chosen each year and made the Senate a more
diverse body by adding equestrians from across Italy and even provincials
from Spain and Gaul (modern France) whom he had enfranchised; this
also served to weaken the Senate by turning it into an unwieldy council
of 900 members, three times its traditional size. Within Italy, Caesar re-
organized local governments along systematic lines, shifting administra-
tive and judicial burdens from Roman officials to local ones and giving
local populations more opportunities for political participation, while in
the provinces, new laws placed greater restrictions on Roman governors
(ironic considering the way in which Caesar himself had governed Gaul
for such a long period of time) and reduced the burden of taxation and
made collection more just. Caesar even introduced a new calendar that
has continued in use in the Western world, with minor modification, right
up to today.
The reforms of Caesar the Dictator reveal his wide knowledge of im-
portant problems in the Roman world; he did genuinely work to “restore
the Republic” to functionality, to fix what was “broken,” whether a land-
less proletariat, a depleted Senate, or a convoluted calendar. Also, after ten
years of virtually absolute command in the Gallic territories, he had clearly
come to see the need of greater efficiency, military style, at Rome. At the
same time, however, Caesar utilized the dictatorship, as well as his other
284
Dictator
extraordinary powers, to strengthen his own faction within the Roman

system. Even his generous policy of granting citizenship to provincials did
more than recognize the practical benefits of integrating talented foreign-
ers into that system; it allowed Caesar to reward his loyal supporters, non-
Roman as well as Roman, and weaken the position of other senators in the
process.
Over the course of Caesar’s multiple dictatorships, he came more and
more to display an autocratic attitude in his treatment of the Senate and
the Popular Assemblies. He held elections late almost every year, keep-
ing the voters and candidates in suspense, and managed to fill most posts,
by manipulation or influence, with cronies. He made significant decisions
in private, inviting only the opinions of certain men, and then presented
these decisions to the Senate, not for their approval but simply for their
information. Such imperiousness was out of place in Rome’s traditional
Republic.
This distortion of the dictatorship under Caesar, supposedly tasked
with “saving” the Republic from an emergency crisis, as any good dicta-
tor would have done, established conditions in which the Senate and Peo-
ple of Rome, for the most part, regarded the Republic as perpetually in a
state of crisis. To maintain the Republic, in other words, a dictator of sorts
would always be needed. In the immediate aftermath of Caesar’s assassi-
nation, Marc Antony assumed that role (though not the official title); not
long afterward, Octavian challenged him and eventually replaced him. The
line of emperors who succeeded Octavian-Augustus continued for genera-
tions to govern “the Republic” and “keep it safe” in a never-ending form
of dictatorship.
Calendar; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Citizen-
ship; Collegia; Colonies; Courts; Debt Laws/Loans; Equites; Food and
Drink; Gangs; Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Ho-
norum; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Patrons and Clients; Plebs;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Provinces; Senate; Sulla
(ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Abbott, F. F. 1963. A History and Description of Roman Political Institutions.
3rd ed. New York: Biblo and Tannen.
Michigan Press.
Cornell, T. J. 1995. The Beginnings of Rome: Italy and Rome from the Bronze Age to
the Punic Wars (c.1000–264 B.C.). London and New York: Routledge.
285
Dignitas
University Press.
Ltd.
Grant, M. 1994. Cicero, on Government. New York: Penguin Publishing.
lishing.
Publishing.
University Press.
Dignitas
We might define the Latin word dignitas as the worthiness of a Roman
citizen in the eyes of his fellows. It applied primarily to the men of the
upper classes, especially to the members of the senatorial order. They
earned such reputation and standing through proven merit, service to the
state in public office and on the battlefield, and the accumulation of hon-
ors and glory. Dignitas achieved by an ancestor was transmitted down the
generations to his descendants; they thus had the duty to preserve the
worthiness of their families while at the same time earning and maintain-
ing their own worthiness as individuals.
During the Late Republic, prominent Romans defended their dignitas
practically by any means necessary, often imperiling the state in doing so.
The Gracchi brothers, famous reformers of the late second century BCE,
did so by pitting the common citizens and the equites against the Senate.
General Marius pitted himself against the highest members of the Roman
nobility, heralding his dignitas, which had been won by his own efforts
on the battlefield rather than inherited and squandered, as in the case, he
claimed, of his rivals. General Sulla in the following century protected his
dignitas by marching an army of citizens against Rome itself and seizing
power not once but twice. A few decades later, when senator Catiline was
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Dignitas
accused of conspiring against the state, his nefarious efforts and those of
his key accomplices were intended, in their view, to restore their digni-
tas, damaged by political and financial setbacks that they blamed on oth-
ers; on the other hand, their chief target, Cicero, regarded his dignitas as
remarkably enhanced by elimination of the threat posed by Catiline. The
plot implicated other prominent politicians, especially Crassus and Cae-
sar; the latter would not put up with such an affront to his reputation. In
fact, Caesar became the most famous in Roman history for defense of his
own dignitas. Whether addressing his troops in encouragement or scold-
ing his senatorial rivals, Caesar always insisted on the preservation of his
worthiness.
He demonstrated this insistence from very early in his public life. When
Sulla as dictator ordered Caesar (then about age 19) to divorce Cornelia,
daughter of Sulla’s rival Cinna, the young man boldly refused as a point
of personal and familial honor, thereby bringing great danger upon him-
self. Sulla later pardoned Caesar, but warned those who had spoken on
the latter’s behalf that the young man had the personality of his uncle
Marius magnified many times, and, as noted above, Marius stood for his
own dignitas against that of other senators. Indeed, for much of his ca-
reer, Caesar would often engage in political and legal actions designed to
resurrect the dignitas of Marius and Cinna and weaken that of their rivals
(or their descendants and successors), thereby promoting familial worthi-
ness and enhancing his own; his defeat of Catulus and Servilius Isauricus
for the coveted post of Pontifex Maximus in 63 BCE was an excellent case
in point.
Even outside of Rome, Caesar revealed without pretense his sense not
only of self-importance but also of his value to Roman society. When he was
still only in his early twenties, he was captured by pirates in the Aegean Sea.
His attitude toward them was unbelievably arrogant for a prisoner and he
promised their destruction at his hands; he also laughed at them when they
did not realize who he was and he insisted that they demand a much higher
ransom for his release than they originally calculated. Caesar behaved this
way despite the fact that he had not done anything really that noteworthy
in Roman warfare or politics up to that point; his elevated sense of dignitas
demanded such behavior.
Perhaps the greatest illustration of Caesar’s dignitas from his personal
life was the reason he gave for divorcing his second wife, Pompeia, in
62 BCE. She had been implicated in a sex scandal with young Clodius Pul-
cher, though the evidence against her was inconclusive. Nevertheless,
Caesar divorced her, claiming that any wife of his had to be above even sus-
picion of wrong-doing.
The crisis between himself and his Optimate rivals in the Senate brought
the proverbial defense of Caesar’s dignitas to a climax. When certain
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Dignitas
members of the Senate stood against him continuing as a provincial gover-

nor in command of large armies and becoming consul again without having
to lay down that command, Caesar countered their efforts in every way he
could because he was now, in his view, the leading man in Rome. He would
not permit them to reduce his standing even in the slightest way.
Two years later, in the aftermath of his victory in the Battle of Pharsalus be-
tween his forces and those of Pompey, the sight of all the enemy dead moved
Caesar deeply, but he refused to take responsibility for having started the Civil
War that led to this carnage. Instead, as usual, he insisted that his enemies had
forced him to this, that he, despite being a general of many victories, would
have been humiliated and destroyed by them legally and politically if he had
not fought for himself. In other words, his dignitas demanded such action.
Dignitas was a social concept most usually associated with the Roman
elite, especially with those of the highest reputation, like Caesar. Even so,
commoners among the Romans also valued their dignitas. This was espe-
cially true of soldiers. For instance, when Caesar’s Tenth Legion, which
had served him so well for many years in the Gallic Wars, demanded to be
discharged and given their retirement rewards in 46 BCE, Caesar attempted
to humiliate them by referring to them simply as “citizens” rather than
“soldiers” or “comrades,” the terms he normally used with his men. The
legionaries took great offense at this, seeing it for what it was, an insult to
their dignitas, and reversed their position; instead of retiring, they volun-
teered to join Caesar for another campaign. Thus, they not only defended
their dignitas in the eyes of their general but also offered to prove their
worthiness further by continuing to serve him.
See also: Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cornelia
(d. 69 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Equites; Gloria/Glory; Honor; Marius
(ca.157–86 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Piracy; Pompeia/“Caesar’s
wife”; Pontifex Maximus; Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Tenth Legion
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
University Press.
288
Divus Iulius
Divorce. See Marriage/Divorce

Divus Iulius
In Latin, Divus Iulius means “the Divine Julius” and refers to Julius Cae-
sar. The Roman government officially declared Caesar divine in 42 BCE,
two years after his assassination. Many Roman citizens, and especially other
subjects of the empire, had already come to consider him “god-like” well
before that time.
Deification, the ranking and worship of a human being, either while
alive or after death, among the gods goes back in the Mediterranean world
to the ancient Egyptians. They considered their kings and queens divine
beings temporarily inhabiting human form. Even among the neighboring
populations of the ancient Near East, in what today we would call Syria,
Iraq, Lebanon, Iran, and so forth, rulers were regarded as agents of the di-
vine will, as representatives of the gods, or as heroes among humankind,
which meant, as it did for the ancient Greeks also, persons of supposedly
semi-divine ancestry. Greek authors, especially in the third and fourth cen-
turies BCE, encouraged blurring the line between great humans and the
gods. The famous philosopher Aristotle argued in his essay on politics that
monarchy should only be accepted when rulers and their families dem-
onstrated exceptional arete or excellence as paragons of human qualities,
as high above other humans as the gods were above all earthly creatures;
Denarius of Octavian-Augustus, ca. 18 BCE, depicting himself as Julius Caesar’s heir

and the comet which heralded the ascent of Caesar into the realm of the gods (hence
the inscription DIVUS IULIUS, Divine Julius). (Classical Numismatic Group, Inc.)
289
Divus Iulius
the fiction writer Euheremus of Messene even went so far as to assert that
all the gods worshipped by the Greeks had once simply been great men
who down the generations had received more and more adoration by their
people.
Roman culture developed under the influence of these much older so-
cieties, especially the Greek. It should not be surprising, then, that they,
too, came to revere heroic men and women in a fashion approaching wor-
ship of the gods. For instance, one old Roman tradition asserted that the
founder of their city, Romulus (who was the son of the war god, Mars, after
all), had not ended his life in death but had been absorbed into the divine
realm; some said that he afterward became Quirinus. The Romans dedi-
cated shrines to this god of agriculture, prosperity, and societal stability and
entrusted his care to one of their most important priests, the flamen Quiri-
nalis. By the time of Caesar, contemporary authors, like the famous orator
Cicero, wrote further on the subject of exceptional human beings (like his
own deceased daughter, Tullia) joining the gods after death.
Nonetheless, the Romans had not taken the path of the Greeks and
the peoples of the Near East in regarding their leaders as divine while still
alive. Acknowledging them as divinely blessed was no problem; the dictator
Sulla, for example, thought of himself as favored by Venus, goddess of love
and passion, and conferred upon his ally, Pompey, the title of “Magnus” or
“Great” (in imitation of Alexander the Great), because of Pompey’s appar-
ently divinely inspired achievements at such a young age. Neither of these
very powerful Romans looked at themselves as gods, though, at least not
when among Roman citizens of the empire.
Julius Caesar, however, seems to have done so. He sought to reach be-
yond the monarchs of the Near East, beyond even Alexander the Great,
who had received the honor of being god-like (even called son of the Egyp-
tian god Ammon) already during his lifetime and had been worshipped
as a god all over the eastern provinces of the empire ever since his death.
Sources suggest that Caesar made continuing efforts to have himself offi-
cially deified in the last year or so of his life. He minted coins with his own
image on them (the first Roman general to do so), something traditionally
reserved to images of the gods. The Senate granted him god-like honors,
such as the carrying of his statue among those of the other deities in holy
processions and the placing of his statues in sacred locations, the decora-
tion of the entrance to his home with a pediment (a triangular frontpiece)
like those on temples, an additional group of priests named after him for
the religious festival of Lupercalia, and the veneration of “Caesar’s mercy,”
complete with a priest of its own, a flamen, in the person of his lieutenant,
Marc Antony.
Considering Caesar’s well-documented ambivalent attitude toward tra-
ditional religion, his desire to be treated as more than a mere mortal only
290
Divus Iulius
seems to have intensified his disregard for traditional religious taboos. For
instance, on one occasion during a ritual when the haruspex examining the
sacrificial victim announced that the animal had no heart, and therefore was
unfit for the gods and indicated a bad omen, Caesar declared not even to
worry about it; the omens would be favorable whenever he said so.
Two days after Caesar’s assassination, the Senate convened, under the
leadership of Marc Antony, to discuss how to handle that event. After much
debate, they decided to award Caesar posthumously the honor of deifica-
tion. Many Roman citizens had already come to the conclusion that Cae-
sar’s spirit had ascended to join the realm of the divine beings; in this light,
they interpreted the remarkable comet, shining very brightly in the night
sky, which had appeared first on the evening following Caesar’s death. It
shone for a total of seven nights and then could no longer be seen.
Following Caesar’s assassination, during the political contest between
Antony and Caesar’s great-nephew and adopted son, Octavian, the latter
took great advantage of his adoptive father’s divine status by siphoning off
some of it for himself. He called himself Divi Filius, “son of the Divine
One,” and even inscribed these words on the coins he minted to pay his
troops. Of course, Antony referred to himself as the New Dionysus or as
Osiris incarnate, which appealed to beliefs, held widely throughout Rome’s
eastern provinces and the Kingdom of Egypt as noted above, that mon-
archs and other such powerful rulers contained within them the spirits of
gods. Antony’s self-portrayal fit with very old traditions, then, especially
in places like Egypt; Octavian, on the other hand, was attempting to take
such beliefs, already percolating into Roman society and the cultures of
the Western Mediterranean, and push them even further so that he, too,
might appeal to divine connections in his competition with Antony (and
Cleopatra).
Octavian emerged victorious in this struggle, thereby becoming the first
emperor, called Augustus. He had vowed the construction of a temple to
Julius Caesar, as a god, in the very heart of the Roman Forum, and in
29 BCE, the Temple of the Divine Julius was dedicated. The structure it-
self was fairly traditional. Inside the temple, where typically would stand a
statue of a god or goddess, Octavian placed a statue of his adoptive father
with a star-like image on his head, symbolizing the comet that heralded
his ascension into the heavens, his apotheosis, to use the Greek word. Fol-
lowing in the form of the nearby Temple of Castor and Pollux (only on a
smaller scale), the Temple of the Divine Julius had a columned entrance
preceded by a terrace to function as a speaker’s platform or rostra. Unique
was the front edge of this terrace, where a single, short column stood, its
base recessed below the level of the rostra, thus making the entire column
encircled by the latter; it marked the spot where Caesar’s remains had been
cremated and on it, Octavian had inscribed one of Caesar’s titles, Parenti
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Divus Iulius
Patriae, “To the Father of his Country.” He also attached some of the
beaks (ramming heads) of Antony’s ships, captured at the turning-point
Battle of Actium (31 BCE), to the facade of the terrace on either side of
the column. This act confirmed that Octavian’s victory over Antony had
been sanctioned by Julius Caesar, the god, and indeed that the struggle for
power had been for Caesar’s sake. In addition, Octavian later had the tem-
ple flanked by two ceremonial arches, one dedicated to his military triumph
at Actium, the other to his diplomatic success at gaining the cooperation of
the Parthian Empire (then consisting of much of the Middle East), which
Caesar had planned to attack before his death. Again, these arches next to
the Temple of the Divine Julius conveyed to the general public the image
of Octavian-Augustus as the dutiful Divi Filius.
By conferring upon him the title Divus Iulius, the Senate recognized
that Caesar had surpassed his predecessors in conspicuous accomplish-
ments. They had adopted the perspective of the Near Eastern peoples that
only divinity could explain this and that he deserved to be worshipped for
what he had done. Caesar’s successors pushed even further the absorption
of such ruler-cult until it became a commonplace for emperors of Rome to
be seen as gods in the afterlife, as long as they had properly cared for the
welfare of the empire during their reigns. Indeed, citizens and subjects of
the empire later proved their loyalty by participating in the cult of the dei-
fied emperors, the worship of the Imperial dead, and were deemed treason-
ous if they did not do so.
See also: Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE); Antony/Antonius, Marcus
(ca. 83–30 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE);
Coinage/Money; Forum Romanum; Haruspicy; Lupercalia; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Omens; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion,
Roman; Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Temple of Castor and Pollux;
Venus Genetrix
Further Reading
Ltd.
Seager, R., and R. Warner. 2006. Plutarch, Fall of the Roman Republic. London and
New York: Penguin.
Turcan, R. 1996. The Cults of the Roman Empire. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing.
Turcan, R. 2001. The Gods of Ancient Rome. London and New York: Routledge.
292
Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE)
Wardman, A. 1982. Religion and Statecraft among the Romans. Baltimore: Johns
Weinstock, S. 1971. Divus Julius. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

The “bronze-bearded” (ahenobarbi) Domitii traced their distinguished lin-
eage at least as far back in Rome’s history as the fifth century BCE. Not all
of them possessed the greatest of virtues, but they did share a tendency to-
ward obstinacy and temper and, like many others of the Roman elite, an
exalted sense of dignitas. Certainly, these qualities characterized L. Domi-
tius Ahenobarbus, who stood with the Optimates in the Senate against Ju-
lius Caesar, challenged the latter through much of his career, confronted
him on his invasion of Italy, and fought against him across the empire from
southern France to Greece.
According to the famous orator and statesman Cicero, Domitius, even
as a young man early on in his political career, held to the moral standards
of those senators who styled themselves Optimates. Little is known about
that early career, aside from his testimony, in 70 BCE, against Verres, the
corrupt Roman governor of Sicily. For this, Cicero praised Domitius as a
distinguished young man, first among his peers.
By the summer of 61 BCE, Domitius joined up with the most prominent
spokesman of the Optimates, Cato the Younger, to bring two proposals be-
fore the Senate regarding bribery. One motion declared as treasonable the
sheltering or housing of those who distributed bribes (known as divisores
in Latin) among the voters; the other authorized the searching of magis-
trate’s homes for such individuals. Undoubtedly, these motions targeted
the chief adversaries of the Optimates at that time, who were also the men
possessing the greatest wealth to spread around through bribery, that is,
Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar. Ironically, Domitius’s own comrade, Cato,
engaged the very next year in large-scale bribery of the voters to guarantee
that his own son-in-law, Bibulus, would gain election to the consulship as
a counter-weight to Caesar. By the fall of 59 BCE, Domitius found himself
implicated in an alleged plot to assassinate Caesar and Pompey, accused by
the informer, P. Vettius, of conspiring with the consul Bibulus to do so;
Vettius even claimed that the house of Domitius had served as the base of
operations for the scheme. Fortunately for Domitius, few believed the ac-
cusations, which were probably trumped up by Pompey and Caesar them-
selves to discredit their opponents.
In the following year, Domitius attained some legal cover through his
position as praetor and, together with his colleague Memmius, insisted on
293
holding an inquiry into Caesar’s official misconduct while consul, his bla-
tant disregard of customs and taboos. The Senate as a body refused to take
up the matter, so Caesar ignored the praetors’ charges and left Rome for
his provincial command. Other proceedings were instituted against him
and one of his subordinates, likely all instigated by Domitius, but still these
came to nothing.
In the summer of 58 BCE, Domitius attempted to get at Caesar again by
standing up for M. Tullius Cicero; the latter had been forced into exile to
keep him quiet through the efforts of Caesar and his associates. The plebe-
ian tribune, Clodius, who had orchestrated Cicero’s downfall, found a con-
stitutional means to order Domitius to be silent on the question of Cicero’s
recall and the matter of the reconstruction of his house, which had been
destroyed at Clodius’s orders.
Undeterred, though obstructed at every turn by the so-called First Tri-
umvirate and its minions, Domitius campaigned relentlessly in 56 BCE for
the consulship of the following year, hoping to utilize that office against the
opponents of the Optimates. According to the Imperial historian Cassius
Dio, Domitius was actively canvassing for votes right up to the very last day
before the elections. Another Imperial historian, Appian of Alexandria, as-
serted that the intention of Domitius in all this was to challenge Pompey;
this probably means that, even if Pompey obtained one of the consulships
for the upcoming year, Domitius sought to obtain the other and use it as a
check on Pompey’s actions and power within the state. Domitius also made
clear his intention of removing Julius Caesar from his provincial command.
In all this, he had the support of the Optimates in the Senate and especially
of their leader, his brother-in-law, Cato.
Caesar had other plans. Pompey and their associate, Crassus, came to
meet Caesar at his winter quarters in the town of Luca (modern Lucca) in
northern Italy (what Romans referred to as the province of Cisalpine Gaul).
Behind the scenes, the three men agreed to cooperate in squeezing Domi-
tius out of the race and obtaining the consulships of 55 for Crassus as well
as Pompey.
Even before dawn on the morning of the elections, Domitius arrived in
the Campus Martius (Field of Mars) where Roman voters cast their bal-
lots for consuls in the Popular Assembly known as the Comitia Centuri-
ata (Assembly of Centuries). Pompey showed up at about the same time;
both men, as was customary, came with a crowd of supporters around
them. It did not take long for these hangers-on to begin quarreling, even-
tually brawling, with one another over their candidates; in the escalat-
ing confrontation, one of Domitius’s torch-bearers (recall that it was still
dark out when all this took place) was attacked by a follower of Pompey
with a sword. Legally, no one was supposed to enter the voting area with
weapons, and the fact that one of Pompey’s men was armed suggested
294
that more of them must have had concealed weapons; in fact, Cassius
Dio recorded that Publius, the son of Crassus, had brought soldiers from
Caesar’s army on furlough to vote in this election, likely secretly armed.
Domitius’s entourage melted away and he himself barely escaped to his
own home; Cato also escaped, but badly wounded in the right arm as he
had tried to delay retreating while also protecting Domitius. Clearly, fair
and free elections were not going to happen this time. When the voters
assembled, Pompey and Crassus secured both consulships; indeed, they
managed to secure many other elective offices for their cronies by the end
of the year.
In the elections for the consulships of 54 BCE, however, despite the fact that
Crassus and Pompey presided, they were unable to prevent Domitius from
securing one of the two positions. His hostility toward Pompey never abated
and he unleashed it especially against the latter’s key followers, such as A.
Gabinius, who was brought to trial on various charges and forced into exile.
Yet, he lost another election important to him thanks to the efforts
of Caesar; the latter, despite being far away in his provincial command,
worked together with others to deny Domitius the open spot in the priestly
college of augurs. Winner of the election was one of Caesar’s chief lieuten-
ants, Marc Antony, making Domitius’s loss an even greater insult. He raged
against those who had orchestrated what he considered a travesty and an
injustice.
The Optimate members of the Senate pushed for the recall of Caesar
from his provincial command and clamored for Domitius to replace him.
By this time, Crassus had died fighting the Parthians and Pompey had
begun to distance himself from Caesar. When a letter arrived from Caesar
insisting on retention of his provincial command until which time as Pom-
pey also laid down his own (so that they would both retire into private life
and not pose an imminent threat to one another), the Optimates got their
wish; Domitius received the Senate’s mandate to take over Caesar’s prov-
inces and he proceeded to gather forces for that purpose.
Before anyone expected it, however, Caesar had moved with a relatively
small force into Italy proper and was on the march toward Rome. By then,
Pompey had been selected by the Senate as supreme commander against
Caesar’s invasion, but he had retreated from Rome to gather supplies and
recruit troops in southern Italy. Domitius had the task of confronting Cae-
sar first. He did not maneuver against him but instead took up position in
the town of Corfinium, strategically located on the Via Valeria, a major
Roman highway in southern Italy, and at the best crossing for the River At-
erno (Aternus). Here, Domitius hoped to halt Caesar and provide Pompey
the time he needed to rise up against Caesar.
Caesar could have bypassed Corfinium altogether on his march against
Pompey, but he chose not to; he could not allow Domitius to hold such a
295
defiant position against him, one which could have been utilized as a base
for enemy operations behind his own line of advance. Domitius’s forces
slightly outnumbered those of Caesar, but the latter’s were battle-hardened
veterans, while the former’s were fresh recruits from the citizenry of the
region. These facts did not deter Domitius, however. He sent some of his
troops to destroy the bridge over the Aterno so that Caesar could not use it
to cross; the latter’s advanced forces prevented this and chased Domitius’s
men back to town. While Caesar’s army camped outside Corfinium, Domi-
tius detailed his troops along the walls, complete with artillery emplace-
ments, and tried to rouse his men to imagine the rewards of victory, to take
heart, and to stand firm.
Domitius hoped desperately for military assistance from Pompey, who
was only about sixty miles away, and the orator Cicero, in his letters from
those days, reveals how he and many other senators hoped for the same.
They expected Pompey to concentrate his forces together with those of
Domitius and others at Corfinium for the showdown with Caesar. Pompey
sent word, however, that he disagreed with Domitius’s strategy of holding
Corfinium against Caesar (no matter how brave or patriotic that might have
seemed to be), that he had never ordered him to do so, and that he would
not now trap himself in that town, too; he criticized Domitius roundly not
only for allowing himself and his own force to get stuck but also for not
sending on two legions of reinforcements he (Pompey) had requested from
Domitius. Pompey urged Domitius to withdraw from Corfinium before it
was too late (even if that meant laying open to Caesar the estates of their
wealthy comrades in the process) and work toward joining forces in Apulia
(modern Puglia). This terribly disheartened Domitius because by waiting
for the “hero” Pompey, in whom he had reposed great confidence, he had
allowed Caesar the time to flank Corfinium with two military camps, sur-
round it with a rampart and forts, and double the size of his force with new
reinforcements. In writing to his friend Atticus on the matter, as news came
to him of it, Cicero described Domitius as a fool for having trusted Pompey
and criticized the latter for basically deserting the former.
Domitius dared not let on to his own men that they were being aban-
doned by Pompey to their own devices; the only possible escape, as he saw
it, was for himself and those few senators close to him, and he kept this idea
secret. The plan was discovered by his troops, however, and after a heated
discussion and argument, they decided to hand their untrustworthy com-
mander over to the enemy. A day later, the town of Corfinium received
Caesar peacefully and he pardoned all of Domitius’s troops, allowing them
to join his own army if they wished; he also permitted Domitius and the
other senators with him to go free.
Domitius could have gone into peaceful retirement at that point, but
he chose instead to continue the fight against Caesar, his next theater
296
of operations being the defense of Massilia (modern Marseilles) in Gal-

lia Transalpina (modern Provence). In other words, he now proceeded to
the provincial command he was supposed to have assumed from Caesar
in the first place. An excuse for doing so presented itself in the appeals from
the nobility of Massilia, who declared their allegiance to Pompey’s side; the
great wealth and powerful fleet of that maritime city could prove tremen-
dous assets in the Civil War and could not be allowed to fall into Caesar’s
hands.
The Massiliotes kept Caesar at bay with false negotiations for neutrality
until the arrival of Domitius; the oligarchy of the city then handed over its
defense to him. Under his orders, they gathered a large store of food and
other necessary supplies and commandeered all the vessels in the area for
military service. Massilia prepared for a long siege by land and blockade by
sea, with which Caesar soon obliged them.
Domitius made his first target the enemy fleet, under the charge of Bru-
tus Albinus, one of Caesar’s most trusted lieutenants. They engaged in
difficult and bitter combat in two naval encounters, both sides attempting
to maximize their advantages either in maritime skill or fighting prowess.
Pompey, finally, came through for Domitius, sending him reinforcement
warships all the way from Greece. Domitius also had the full support of
the Massiliotes; he called upon every able-bodied man to serve, whether
aristocrat or commoner. The remainder of the population did their part
as well, by praying to the gods for the success of their fleet. The latter did
cause great damage among the enemy vessels, even sinking the flagship of
Brutus Albinus (who managed to escape) but were deserted by Pompey’s
reinforcements and suffered too many losses of their own to break the
blockade.
In the meantime, Caesar’s ground troops, under the command of an-
other of his trusted lieutenants, Trebonius, conducted the siege of Massilia
by land. As they erected various devices for that purpose, the Massil-
iotes, directed by Domitius, attempted to drive the enemy away with ar-
tillery fire and assaults by Gallic warriors armed with firebrands. After
some time of this sort of fighting, Trebonius’s sappers undermined and
brought down a portion of the defensive wall of Massilia; out of the open-
ing streamed civilians who begged Trebonius for a chance to negotiate
peace with Caesar. An uneasy truce ensued, punctuated by skirmishes
of differing sorts, until the Massiliotes decided it was, indeed, time to
surrender.
Domitius had learned of this decision a few days earlier and prepared
ships for his escape. He hoped that inclement weather would deter Bru-
tus Albinus from trying to stop him but that was not the case. Of his three
vessels, only his own escaped. Having arrived in Greece, he joined up with
Pompey’s main force.
297
Almost a full year later, Pompey and Caesar fought their major battle at
Pharsalus in northern Greece. Up to that moment, Pompey’s three lead-
ing lieutenant commanders, Domitius, Metellus Scipio, and Lentulus Spin-
ther, fully expected to destroy Caesar and his army; they had even wasted
their time bitterly quarrelling over which of them would succeed Caesar
in the post of Pontifex Maximus, the most prestigious priesthood of Rome.
Domitius went further in his imaginings about the future; he suggested
that, after their victory, the senators who fought on their side should pass
judgment on those who stayed out of the conflict or proved useless in it,
either exonerating them of wrongdoing, ordering them to pay a fine, or
condemning them to death.
Pompey assigned Domitius to command the left wing of his army as it
stood to face Caesar’s. The Battle of Pharsalus did not go as Pompey’s side
expected. In the turmoil following the victory of Caesar’s troops, Domi-
tius fled the battlefield and headed into the nearby hills for safety. Some of
Caesar’s cavalry took off in pursuit and, eventually, captured and killed him.
Having been the first official defender of the Republic against Caesar,
Domitius Ahenobarbus carried that duty through to the end of his life. His
entire career, in fact, epitomized the determined resistance of the Opti-
mates to the rise of any one senator too far above the others.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Campus Martius; Cato
(95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Cor-
finium, Siege of (49 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Dignitas; Elections;
Gaul/Gallia Comata; Honor; Hostis; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Mas-
silia, Siege of (49 BCE); Optimates; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Religion, Roman; Siegecraft; Trebonius
(d. 43 BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Ltd.
Greenwood, L.H.G. 1988. Cicero: The Verrine Orations. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
lishing.
Publishing.
298
Dreams/Dream Interpretation
The people of ancient times, like their modern counterparts, had a fascina-
tion with the meaning of dreams. Within the Mediterranean context alone,
every society had its dream interpreters. Like modern individuals, who
might analyze dreams in terms of psychological, sociology, or neurologi-
cal theories, the ancient interpreters made connections between the dream
state and a person’s mental, emotional, and physical condition and circum-
stances. Unlike most moderns, however, they also regarded such manifes-
tations in one’s sleep as a form of communication with the gods and other
supernatural entities; sleep broke down the barrier between the human and
the divine worlds, allowing men and women to receive personal messages
of importance. In particular, the Romans put a lot of stock in dreams and in
those who seemed to possess the gifted insight to understand what dreams
meant. Though Julius Caesar himself tended to scoff at the supernatural,
his culture did not, and many dreams were recorded regarding key mo-
ments in his life and career.
For example, in the summer of 48 BCE, on the night before the criti-
cal Battle of Pharsalus between his forces and those of Caesar, Pompey
dreamed that he was back home in Rome, in fact, inside the grand the-
ater he had recently built, applauded by throngs of citizens as he offered
spoils of war to Venus Victrix, Bringer of Victory, whose temple adorned
the upper level of the theater structure. Under other circumstances, he
might have interpreted this dream favorably to mean that he would soon
defeat Caesar. Pompey, however, was filled with doubts about entering bat-
tle and had pretty much been pushed into it by his subordinate command-
ers. These misgivings colored his understanding of the vision. He could not
help but remember that Caesar’s family claimed descent from the goddess
Venus; perhaps the spoils he himself had presented to her in the dream ac-
tually represented what he would lose to Caesar if they fought at Pharsalus.
The Imperial biographers Suetonius and Plutarch both recount a famous
dream that Caesar had of sleeping with his own mother, Aurelia, a dream
that seriously rattled him. According to Suetonius, this happened when
Caesar served in Spain as quaestor in 69 BCE; according to Plutarch, it took
place on the night before he crossed the Rubicon twenty years later. Re-
gardless of when he dreamed it, the professional soothsayers with whom
he consulted (either Roman or Hispanian, depending on the context of
the story) interpreted the nightmare in a positive way, almost Freudian,
we might say; they believed it foretold Caesar’s dominance over Mother
Earth, that is, his future conquest of the world.
Another dream that he regarded in a similar light was the one he had on
the night before his assassination: he saw himself flying through the sky to
shake the hand of Jupiter himself. Certainly, this appeared to be a message
299
of divine favor. This could be interpreted differently, of course. Soaring to

meet Jupiter might be seen as foretelling the beginning of some sort of
spiritual existence in the realm of the gods, in other words, as the end of
one’s mortal life. Especially when linked with the nightmares that plagued
his wife, Calpurnia, on that same night, this reading had some validity.
Caesar, startled by noise in their bedroom (all the windows and doors had
rushed open suddenly), woke up to hear his wife mumbling incoherently
and groaning in sorrow. She then also awoke, startled as her husband had
been, and told him of her nightmare: she was crying over Caesar’s corpse,
riddled with stab wounds, as she cradled it in her arms. Not only that, she
had seen the triangular ornamental pediment that had been placed above
the entrance to their house, making that entrance appear like that of a
Roman temple, crumble and fall to the ground.
Caesar seemed to have been the sort of person, more and more com-
mon among the Roman elite of those days, who could take dreams seri-
ously when they promised something good and dismiss them when they
forewarned of something bad. Calpurnia, too, apparently took that ap-
proach to such things usually, but not this time. On this occasion, his
own and his wife’s dreams distressed Caesar enough for him to listen to
Calpurnia when she insisted that he not go to a meeting of the Senate on
the following day, the Ides of March. She insisted that he summon profes-
sionals to provide guidance about his future; he called in soothsayers to
consult the omens through sacrifices. These all seemed to suggest doom,
thus confirming the tone of the dreams, and Caesar decided to cancel the
scheduled meeting.
Unfortunately for him, his skeptical friend, Brutus Albinus (who was
conspiring against Caesar, by the way), came to escort him to that meet-
ing and convinced him to ignore nightmares; Caesar would look foolish
and rude to the Senate if he expected its members to go home and wait for
Caesar’s wife to have better dreams before they could ever conduct public
business. Actually, previous generations of Romans would have done just
that, especially with the added testimony of the soothsayers.
Another dream connected with Caesar’s demise was that of his friend,
Helvius Cinna, the poet. The latter dreamed that Caesar invited him to
dine, but he tried to resist, and Caesar dragged him along by the hand into
a very dark location. Helvius apparently felt compelled in part by this dream
to go down to the Roman Forum and attend the funeral of Caesar; it was
almost as if Caesar was calling him to die with him. A mob of citizens, an-
gered at Caesar’s murder, mistook Helvius for one of those who supported
the assassins; they grabbed hold of him and ripped him apart, limb by limb.
Caesar’s initial reaction to his wife’s dreams, as well as the reaction of
Albinus, reveals the changing views of Romans of their time to dreams
and their interpretation. Greater skepticism abounded. Yet, this did not
300
Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE)
stop historians, biographers, and other writers from utilizing accounts

of dreams in their works to reflect on the actions of leading figures and
wonder whether those figures heeded or ignored personalized signs from
the gods.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian family; Calpurnia; Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE);
Crossing the Rubicon; Haruspicy; Ides of March; Omens; Pharsalus, Bat-
tle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion, Roman; Sacrifices; The-
ater of Pompey; Venus Genetrix
Further Reading
Beard, M., J. North, and S. Price. 1998. Religions of Rome. Cambridge: Cam-
Lewis, N. 1976. The Interpretation of Dreams and Portents. Toronto: Hakkert
and Co.
MacMullen, R. 1981. Paganism in the Roman Empire. New Haven, CT: Yale Uni-
versity Press.

In the early months of the Civil War between Caesar and Pompey in 49
BCE, the latter strategically withdrew from Italy with Caesar in hot pursuit;
Pompey set up his headquarters along the Adriatic coast at the old Greek
town of Epidamnus in Epirus (modern Albania). By that time, locals had
long come to call the place Dyrrachium (modern Durazzo), after the ac-
tual promontory on which Epidamnus was situated. An important center
of trade between Greeks and Illyrians, Dyrrachium came under control of
the Romans in the late third century BCE, when they rescued the town from
Illyrian attacks. From that time onward, it served as the normal place for
Roman troops to disembark on the eastern side of the Adriatic after having
crossed over from Brundisium in Italy; the Romans constructed a military
road, the Via Egnatia, from Dyrrachium across Macedonia in northern
Greece to ease their progress in the region. So, it was a natural place for
Pompey to take up position, await Caesar, and prevent Caesar from gaining
any ground in Rome’s Greek territories.
Caesar landed in western Greece, about one hundred miles south of
Dyrrachium. By that time, Pompey had amassed considerable resources of
301
food, manpower, and ships there. Caesar won over local populations and
Roman sympathizers as he marched northward against Pompey, but his
own poorly supplied men also faced harassment from Pompey’s forces; they
often found themselves trapped, beaten down by terrible winter weather.
Finally, in the early spring of 48 BCE, reinforcements of four legions plus
cavalry arrived from Italy, not without great difficulty from wind, weather,
and enemy ships, under the command of Marc Antony; he sent his own
vessels back to Brundisium to pick up more reinforcements. Pompey at-
tempted but failed to prevent Antony’s troops from meeting up with Cae-
sar’s, and then Caesar attempted and succeeded in preventing Pompey
from marching back to safety in Dyrrachium.
Caesar, however, found himself in desperate straits. Despite friendly ar-
rangements with a number of Greek communities, he faced dwindling re-
sources. The amount of food and other supplies he could acquire was very
small; Pompey had seen to the preemptive confiscating of such things es-
pecially from the local populations. To give his own forces greatest pos-
sible freedom of movement and reduce Pompey’s men to worry, Caesar
ordered his troops to seize the hills surrounding the bay of Dyrrachium,
where Pompey had located his fortified camp, and to construct siege works
around that position. Caesar’s strategy did not work out so well, as Pom-
pey’s nine legions continued to be supplied by sea and pushed against Cae-
sar’s besieging seven legions, forcing them to stretch their efforts across a
wider and wider area of hills and forts. In addition, Pompey’s superior and
large number of slingers and archers continually harassed and wounded
Caesar’s men from a distance, especially making such assaults at night
against Caesar’s guard posts.
Caesar’s army, so short of good grain, began harvesting a root (called
chara by the locals and still not properly identified by modern scholars)
which they mixed with milk and formed into loaves. Pompey and his men
could not believe that their enemies were trying to survive on such food
and even more confidently assumed that they would soon score victory
over soldiers who were eating like wild beasts. The Pompeians, however,
had problems of their own: they had run short of fodder for their draught
animals and so had killed them; illnesses were spreading among them in
their confined area; and Caesar’s army had cut off access to fresh water from
streams and rivers, forcing Pompey’s men to dig wells for water. Under
these conditions, Pompey launched several simultaneous attacks against a
number of Caesar’s siege forts and Caesar launched several assaults on Dyr-
rachium. If we believe the numbers recorded by Caesar, he only lost about
twenty men while Pompey lost close to 2,000.
About a week later, Caesar took up a new posture: he began to lead his
army out onto the field of battle every day, coming fairly close to Pom-
pey’s camp (now nearby to Dyrrachium), to offer Pompey the chance for
302
an open, decisive showdown. The latter never took up that offer, instead
lining his men up directly outside their camp, fully under the protection
of their military artillery. No engagement took place. In the meantime,
though, Pompey exerted great efforts to keep his war horses alive, as they
were still short of proper fodder from local and even long-distance sources;
he recognized that he had the advantage in cavalry over Caesar and wanted
to maintain that advantage. He could not do so under the conditions of
continued siege; Pompey had to push back against Caesar’s blockade of his
forces and the city of Dyrrachium.
The opportunity for doing so was presented by the desertion of two of
Caesar’s Gallic auxiliaries, Roucillus and Egus of the Allobroges, to Pom-
pey’s side in the summer of 48 BCE. Fearing punishment by Caesar for certain
disreputable activities of theirs, they came over to Pompey with full infor-
mation about Caesar’s forces and strategic dispositions. Armed with such
highly valuable intelligence, Pompey now made the move to break through
Caesar’s siege works at its weakest point toward the south, where the double
lines of ditch, mound, and palisade had not been completed. At dawn on the
chosen day, Pompey’s men began to fill up the ditches, and, from their boats
in the bay, they began to bring out artillery with which they hailed missiles
upon Caesar’s guards. Pompey’s archers and legionaries soon overwhelmed
their enemies and forced them to flee. Reinforcements under the quaestor
Lentulus Marcellinus were unable to stem this tide of retreat and indeed
contributed to its escalation. Fear and panic spread through Caesar’s lines
and many men, especially officers, of his Ninth Legion lost their lives.
The Pompeians halted at the arrival of Marc Antony on the scene with
twelve cohorts; Caesar soon joined him with reinforcements gathered from
a number of his outposts. None of this really mattered; Pompey’s men had
successfully broken out of Caesar’s siege works and now freely grazed their
animals, especially war horses, along the seashore, under the protection of
Pompey’s fleet. Caesar tried to shake Pompey up and regain some of the
lost honor of his men by assaulting a small fortress of Pompey’s close to
the coast, where there was encamped one of Pompey’s legions. The success
of Caesar’s men in this engagement restored some of their self-confidence.
Nevertheless, Pompey quickly learned of what had happened and no
sooner had Caesar’s troops secured the fort than Pompey’s main force was
spotted marching at them. Caesar’s cavalry had penetrated deep into the
fortress and so feared most the possibility of being trapped and massacred
by Pompey’s troops. The cavalry began to retreat, stirring up a panicked
withdrawal by Caesar’s right wing; the left wing of his infantry followed in
due course. Men threw themselves from the fortress’s ramparts, scrambled
over, and crushed their comrades, and even abandoned the standards, some
of which were brandished by Caesar himself in an attempt to rally the cour-
age and loyalty of his men.
303
Pompey might have pushed at this moment to stir up a full rout of Cae-
sar’s troops and perhaps capture or kill Caesar himself. His motive for not
doing so is unclear. Caesar expressed his view, in his own account of events,
that Pompey feared the possibility of ambush and his own capture in the
narrow space of the fort and its fortified environs. What seems clear is that
all the different siege works across the area made it more difficult for Pom-
pey’s cavalry in their chase than for Caesar’s men in their headlong flight.
Nonetheless, the latter lost nearly 1,000 men in this disaster.
Pompey’s troops hailed their commander with the title “Imperator,”
“Victorious General,” which he accepted, even though it was bad form to
do so, since that title always connoted victory over foreign enemies, not fel-
low Romans. The prisoners captured from Caesar’s army were rounded up
by Pompey’s legate, Labienus, who had deserted to Pompey after having
loyally served Caesar for over a decade; Labienus, with Pompey’s permis-
sion apparently, harangued the prisoners with fierce criticism of their cow-
ardice and then had them publicly executed.
In the aftermath, Caesar gathered the remaining forces from his out-
posts; rallying his men by speaking to them of their past victories, he nev-
ertheless decided to break off his siege operations against Dyrrachium. He
had lost confidence in his men for the moment, regarding them as too
demoralized to confront the Pompeians for a while. They evacuated, as
stealthily as possible, southward to his base at Apollonia. Pompey pursued,
but gave up after four days, being unable to catch up with Caesar. The lat-
ter soon decided to escape across northern Greece, a decision that would
eventually lead to another confrontation between him and the pursuing
Pompey, this time at Pharsalus.
No chain of events gave the Pompeians more confidence or engendered
more unwarranted arrogance among them than their unusual success at
Dyrrachium. Rumors even spread across Greece that Caesar suffered total
defeat and lost nearly all his forces. The siege (really sieges and counter
sieges) of Dyrrachium was the last military success of Pompey’s career and
his only achievement over Caesar in combat.
See also: Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Siegecraft
Further Reading
Press.
304
E
Education
Education
Roman education comprised learning by experience, apprenticeship, obser-
vation of elders, and formal instruction in complex subjects. It was always
primarily valued as a moral and practical preparation for adult life and ori-
ented toward public concerns.
Through most of its history, Roman society had no publicly run or pub-
licly financed schools; this was not uncommon, because for the vast majority
of the Roman Empire’s population (with the principal exception of Greek
and Hellenized communities), education meant training in the home for
the maintenance of the family and as preparation for adult life in one’s local
community. All the peoples of the empire, and the Romans were certainly
no exception, expected that parents would provide a strong moral example
and were solely responsible for the upbringing of their children.
The Romans placed this burden and duty especially on the shoulders of
fathers, who, from the early days of the Republic, were supposed to give
their sons whatever basics they knew of writing, reading, and math, as well
as instruction in moral behavior and social customs, along with the par-
ticular skills of the family farm or business, all so the sons could protect
the family’s interests in the countryside or in the marketplace. Mothers
instructed daughters in a similar fashion, with a special emphasis on child-
rearing and household chores. Of course, both sons and daughters would
learn how to function as responsible citizens of the Roman community. Of-
ficials known as censors had the public oversight to stigmatize a parent for
indulgence or severity in the upbringing of his or her children, but the legal
right of fathers over their children, called patria potestas, assured no actual
legal interference on the part of the state in child-rearing.
So, from poor to wealthy, Roman families educated their own children
during the Republic. Famous examples of such homeschoolers include
Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi brothers; Cicero, who trained both his
son Marcus and his nephew Quintus; M. Livius Drusus the Younger, who
instructed his nephew Cato the Younger; and Aurelia, the mother of Julius
Caesar.
These examples, though, both the “teachers” and the “students,” certainly
benefited from education gained outside the family unit. Such education
was still private and was available in three ways. First, the Romans always
had a tradition of apprenticeship; a parent might arrange further training
in particular skills for his or her children from a master craftsman, busi-
nessman, and so on. Second, the custom of tirocinium (literally, “hang-
ing around”) allowed young men of the upper classes to shadow lawyers,
magistrates, and other senators to learn the ropes of politics and the law
courts from those directly involved in them; in this way, one’s son would
acquire knowledge of such things as law, oratory, and history, as well as
307
Education
the interpersonal and negotiating skills essential for public prominence.

Lastly, beginning in the third century BCE, Greek tutors from southern Italy
(where Greek colonies had thrived since the eighth century BCE) intro-
duced to the Romans a formal, private education. By the time of Caesar,
such an education was standard for all members of Rome’s upper class as a
compliment to the traditional homeschooling and tirocinium and had fil-
tered down through much of the rest of Roman society as well, to varying
degrees.
Greek communities across the Mediterranean, inspired especially by the
education available in Athens and Alexandria, had developed a system of
training the young with an emphasis on reading and writing, rhetoric and
literary studies, mathematics, geometry and astronomy, music and physi-
cal exercise; such education (paideia) was made available publicly through
municipal institutions called gymnasia and privately through tutors. In ei-
ther case, the instructors were professional teachers rewarded for their ser-
vices, something unknown in Roman society. With Rome’s conquest of
the Greek communities of southern Italy and of Greece itself in the third
and second centuries BCE, many of these teachers offered their services to
the Roman upper classes; they taught Roman children the Greek classics
and adapted their methods also to instruction in Latin, making those chil-
dren bilingual in the process (i.e., in Latin and koine Greek, the dialect
of everyday Athenians). Some tutors remained permanently with particular
Roman families, while others lived with one after another, developing con-
nections and lists of job references, circulating themselves and Greek-style
education throughout Roman high society. By the Late Republic, such in-
house tutors included Theophrastus Tyrannio, who taught Cicero’s son and
nephew, and M. Antonius Gnipho, who instructed Julius Caesar; note that
the latter teacher had acquired Roman citizenship, probably for his good
services.
Some Greek educators, like Gnipho eventually, set up private schools in
their own homes, as did some Romans who learned from them. Pupils in
such schools normally did not come from the Roman elite, who preferred
in-house tutoring, but rather from the families of prosperous businessmen,
merchants, craftsmen, and so on, who could afford the fees charged for
such schools; in some, however, the fees were so modest that even poor
children could attend.
Unlike today, private school teachers negotiated with parents to receive
a certain amount of pay only after a certain period of instruction, usually a
month. Parents might, and did, make all sorts of excuses for not paying as
agreed upon, and teachers often took in more students than they should
have to hedge their bets against parents defaulting on their payments. In-
structors used the courts of Rome’s magistrates to sue parents for losses,
with all the attendant hassles and risks.
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Education
Private schools followed the pattern of three levels common in Greek

education. Children started first at about age seven with the ludi magister,
“game master,” perhaps derived from the idea that schooling was a sort of
game or practice exercise for life; war games were similarly called ludi, and
even the Greek word schola originally meant “leisure time.” Under the ma-
gister, children learned or refined the basics of reading, writing, and math.
At about age 13, children passed on to the care of a grammaticus or lit-
terator, who taught primarily language, poetry, and grammar, but some-
times also art, geography, and astronomy, all to better understand the texts.
The sophists of fifth century BCE Athens created this course of study, later
spurred on by the works of philosophers like Plato and the scholars at the li-
braries of Alexandria and Pergamum, where experts poured over the Greek
classics, cranking out commentaries and analyses; the detailed knowledge
of vocabulary, diction, style, and so on, acquired in such intense study came
to be considered key to the public speaking that played such an important
role in Greek communities and in Rome. By Caesar’s day, Rome had at
least twenty of these grammatical schools, all well attended. The Roman
scholar, M. Terentius Varro, was one product of this high level of educa-
tion; later famous for his book on the Latin language, Varro, despite being
a supporter of Pompey in the Civil War, received Caesar’s pardon and was
asked by Caesar to supervise the creation of a public library in Rome (which
project, however, never materialized). The school of the grammaticus be-
came so important in Roman society that referring to someone as gram-
matos meant he or she was literate and civilized.
After three or so years with the grammaticus, Roman boys and girls took
different paths; the latter returned to a life at home in preparation for mar-
riage, while the former, if their families still could spare their sons’ time
and their own money, went to study with a rhetor (a teacher of oratory and
good writing) or other experts in such subjects as medicine, law, or philoso-
phy. Thus, some Roman students had access to a sort of specialized, higher
education.
As noted earlier, teachers in Rome most commonly used their own homes
or apartments as their “schools”; wealthier and well-connected teachers, as
was the case with most rhetors (who were generally paid many times more
than teachers at the first two levels of instruction), might even use their
own lavish villas or someone else’s for the purpose. Many magistri and
grammatici rented small shop spaces, as merchants might do, or rooms in
public exercise facilities or bathhouses, which the Romans adopted from
the Greeks. Others, especially magistri, had to resort to humbler venues,
conducting classes in public squares, on the sidewalk, or even amid the
crowds of the Roman Forum. Resources in the classroom were as makeshift
as the space itself, depending on the teacher’s status and wealth and that of
his students.
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Education
Evidence from the Late Republic indicates classes at the first two levels
of instruction ranging in size from 10 to 200 pupils; often a teacher had to
instruct a classroom full of children of mixed ages and backgrounds, as in
the old one-room schoolhouses of nineteenth-century America, relying on
asssistant teachers and teacher-students to diffuse some of the workload, and
on each student or small group of students to be self-motivating. Though
Roman sources record the polite manners of students and the kindness of
teachers, grafitti and caricatures scratched into the walls of schoolrooms and
other venues reveal the opposite as well. Discipline under such conditions
had to be strict and included corporal punishment, legally permitted and
publicly accepted, such as whipping and strapping. Trouble in class, as today,
could come from many causes, but in Roman society, perhaps unlike our
own, politics served as a major motivator, as in the cases of classroom may-
hem brought about by clashes between children in support of Caesar and
children in support of Pompey in the period leading up to their Civil War.
Instruction often began at dawn, especially for the first two levels of
education, so pupils set out for school much earlier than today’s children;
they brought little with them, though, perhaps carrying only a box for their
equipment, which would have been an inkwell, a stylus (reed pen), and es-
pecially wooden tablets covered in a layer of wax, upon which the student
could scratch out an exercise with his stylus and later erase it by smooth-
ing over the wax. There was no chalk or chalkboard or hanging maps as
modern students are used to, though the teacher might provide white-
washed boards on which to write examples, sponges to clean them, and
small, hand-held maps to consult.
Morning and afternoon lessons and exercises (with a midday break for
lunch) involved not only original Greek and Latin texts, say of poetry or
astronomy, but also a variety of handbooks to provide refinement in ana-
lyzing those texts, syllabaries and letter sets to teach proper writing and vo-
cabulary, and collections of wise sayings from famous poets, philosophers,
and statesmen. All these would have been written on the books of the time,
scrolls of papyrus, a processed material made from an Egyptian plant, and,
because of their cost, there were rarely enough books to go around in a
schoolroom; so, recitation, dictation, repetition, and memorization were
essential methods of education. In the case of mathematics, students would
have used an abacus, a calculating device consisting of movable pebbles
or metal beads set in a frame, probably shared by the whole class, though
examples of palm-sized abaci suggest the availability of hand-held “per-
sonal” calculators in well-financed schools. Even so, addition and multi-
plication problems were traditionally memorized and chanted out loud,
using the Roman system of mathematical symbols (I = 1, V = 5, etc.) rather
than the Greek system (A = 1, B = 2, etc.). Teachers at all levels assigned
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Education
no written homework nor gave exams; instead, they held frequent com-
petitions, sometimes even in public, among their pupils to demonstrate
competence and progress and gave awards of various kinds for success and
punishments for failure.
School was not all work, though. There were games and recess and
field trips and holidays, especially market days, the Quinquatrus festival in
March, the Saturnalia festival in December, and, of course, summer vaca-
tion (July to early October for Roman kids).
Going to and from school, Roman children had the company of a cus-
tos or paedagogue (another borrowing from the Greeks), a chaperone, a
trusted slave or freedman of the family who saw to the child’s safety and
also often tested the child on what he or she learned from school that day.
In fact, a class might include not just young free children but also vernae,
slaves born and raised alongside them in their masters’ homes. Prominent
Romans of the Late Republic, like Cato, Crassus, and Cicero’s friend At-
ticus had many of these well-educated home-grown slaves and even ran
their own in-house schools for some of them; from these, emerged the
chaperones.
By the Late Republic, the Roman elite went beyond the available edu-
cational venues in Rome to send their sons and daughters to private Greek
tutors and schools in Athens for philosophy, Alexandria for science and
literature, Pergamum and Cos for medicine, Rhodes for oratory and po-
etry, and so on. Cicero’s adolescent son spent a year and half in Athens,
sometimes studying philosophy and oratory as he was supposed to, but
often indulging his various pleasures instead (until his dad cracked down
on him).
Despite the variations in level of education depending on family circum-
stances, the vast majority of the Roman people, as indicated by their pub-
licly posted and publicly read religious calendars, censuses, and law codes,
possessed, thanks to their education, what is today called functional lit-
eracy, while for their elite, a quality education marked good breeding and
played a significant role in achieving legal and political success in Rome and
throughout its empire.
See also: Apollonius of Rhodes; Courts; Festivals; Legal Profession;
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Oratory; Slavery/Slaves
Further Reading
Bonner, S. F. 1977. Education in Ancient Rome. London and New York: Rout-
ledge.
Harris, W. V. 1989. Ancient Literacy. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Kahn, A. 2000. The Education of Julius Caesar. Lincoln, NE: Author’s Guild.
311
Egypt
Egypt
At least by the early third century BCE, the Romans had established contact
with the Kingdom of Egypt through a series of trade treaties, especially to
acquire Egyptian wheat for the burgeoning Roman population. The king-
dom, thereby, became essential to the Roman economy, and its long his-
tory became a subject of fascination for the Romans.
The region of northeast Africa which the ancient Greeks and Romans
called Aegyptus referred primarily to the 800-mile long, narrow valley
carved by the Nile River, surrounded by desert plateaus and high moun-
tains. A land of sand, dreadfully little rainfall, and extreme heat, Egypt was,
as the fifth-century BCE Greek historian Herodotus put it, the “Gift of the
Nile.” The gentle, regular flooding of that river every summer left behind in
mid-fall a covering of four feet of fresh, very fertile soil over approximately
12,000 square miles of territory, perfectly timed for fall planting and spring
harvesting, and allowing easy irrigation. The Nile also provided a corridor
for easy transportation and communication north and south through the
country; raw materials not found in Egypt itself could be accessed in terri-
tories south along the Nile or north across the Mediterranean.
Sunset on the Nile River, near Aswan. Caesar may have come up to this spot on his
pleasure cruise of the Nile in the company of Cleopatra. (Luciano Mortula/
Dreamstime.com)
312
Egypt
The continuous string of peasant villages along the Nile and the major
centers of worship (e.g., the sacred precinct of Osiris at Abydos) were uni-
fied by Narmer, a war leader from Abydos, ca.3100 BCE. Probably begin-
ning with Narmer, kings of Egypt for the next 2,000 years asserted that
they owned all the land and ruled all of its inhabitants; that their will was
law; that they were the providers of justice, harmony, order, their authority
absolute as the herdsman (armed with crook and flail in the traditional im-
agery) over his flock, because they were living gods, the sons of Re and the
manifestation of Horus. The kings directed a prosperous agricultural econ-
omy, centrally controlled, with millions of subject-peasants tied to their
land and work, paying taxes in produce, regulated and censused; above
them stood a class of scribes, artisans, and merchants. Egyptian kings ruled
over this vast population with the complex cooperation of nobles (village
elders, aides to the king, and royal relatives) and priests. No standing army
was even required, only occasional drafts.
This remarkably stable power structure continued virtually without in-
cident during the so-called Early Dynastic (ca.3100–2700 BCE) and Old
Kingdom (ca.2700–2180 BCE) Periods until severe economic decline,
probably bankruptcy brought about by massive pyramid-building projects,
natural disasters, competition among nobles, and political anarchy cost the
Egyptian kings much of their previously unquestioned authority and led
to open criticism of the evils of the Egyptian government and calls for
an ideal, good ruler. When stability returned, the rulers of the so-called
Middle Kingdom Period (ca.2080–1640 BCE), less wealthy and less pow-
erful than their predecessors, but showing greater concern for maat (right
order, justice, and ethical leadership), made more deals for widespread
support among the common people of Egypt against the still independent
and armed nobles. Middle Kingdom rulers promoted prosperity through
trade and crafts (especially pottery, glass, and shipbuilding) and complex
commercial arrangements with foreign states, stretching Egyptian influ-
ence southward into Nubia (modern Sudan) and northward into Palestine,
Lebanon, and Syria. These were times of great cultural achievement among
Egyptian priests and scholars in terms of mathematics (e.g., they divided
the circle into 360 degrees and calculated the value of pi), astronomy (they
developed a solar calendar and divided each day into twenty-four hours),
and especially medicine (identifying causes and all-natural cures for many
illnesses and performing complex surgeries). These accomplishments be-
came important elements of the Greco-Roman world later on.
Another traumatic collapse of central authority (ca.1650–1540 BCE),
caused in part by an invasion from outside forces, fired the Egyptian peo-
ple to frequent rebellions and led to the inauguration of the New King-
dom Period (ca.1540–1069 BCE), in which Egyptian kings transformed
their country into the most formidable military power of the Ancient Near
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Egypt
East for nearly two centuries by building up a permanent army and fleet
that helped expand direct Egyptian control into Syria, Lebanon, Pales-
tine, Arabia, Nubia, and Libya. Egyptian kings collected great tribute from
their conquests, including slaves, and imposed governors and garrisons on
conquered territories. Like their predecessors through the centuries, these
kings continued to dedicate much of their creative resources toward their
“fellow” gods, constructing huge community temple complexes like those
at Karnak, Luxor, and Edfu, while also lavishing some of these same re-
sources on war obelisks, as well as sumptuous tombs for themselves in the
Valley of the Kings.
With the death of Ramses XI (ca. 1077 BCE), Egyptians faced internal
discord, military and popular unrest, economic problems, and a series of
invasions, first by their Libyan and Nubian subjects, then by the Assyrian,
Chaldaean, and especially Persian Empires. Persian forces in Egypt later
surrendered to the Greeks under Alexander the Great in 330 BCE; after his
death, his friend and general, Ptolemy son of Laius, established himself
there, first as governor and later as king.
For nearly 300 years, until the suicide of Cleopatra VII in 30 BCE, the de-
scendants of Ptolemy ruled Egypt, continuing the very ancient traditions of
the Pharaohs but with even greater efficiency and ruthlessness (especially in
terms of collecting over 200 types of taxes and running monopolies of cer-
tain products). Over that time, the Ptolemies ruled not just Egypt proper
but also Cyrene (eastern Libya), the island of Cyprus, various Aegean is-
lands, a section of the Asia Minor coast (southern Turkey), and Coele-Syria
(Lebanon, Palestine, and Jordan). The Ptolemaic kingdom (really, empire)
of Egypt, with its carefully controlled, planned economy, its sizable bureau-
cracy, its myriad regulations, and its intrusion into everyone’s everyday life,
defined what Greeks of that time period, and Romans as well, meant by “the
State,” as we today might refer to “the government,” something that lords
over the people instead of incorporating them in governance; it was, thus,
very different from the aristocratic and democratic city-states and federal
leagues of Greece and the complex Republic of Rome, which also had its
democratic features.
Despite the bad taste that Egyptian “tyranny” might have left in the
mouths of Greeks and Romans, the enormous wealth of the Ptolemies,
the richest kings in the Mediterranean world, Egypt’s remarkably sta-
ble, collectivist society, and its incredibly intact civilization awed and
indeed greatly influenced the Greeks and Romans. At the same time, in-
ternal struggles and intrigues among the Ptolemies eventually cost their
kingdom’s independence as it fell under the influence and then the rule
of Rome.
See also: Calendar; Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Egyptians; Ptolemy XII Auletes
(d. 51 BCE); Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE)
314
Egyptians
Further Reading
Bowman, A. K. 1986. Egypt after the Pharaohs. Berkeley and Los Angeles: Univer-
sity of California Press.
Lewis, N. 1986. Greeks in Ptolemaic Egypt. Durham, NC: American Society of Pa-
pyrologists.
Trigger, B. 1992. Ancient Egypt: A Social History. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.
Egyptians
The Kingdom of Egypt under the Ptolemy family (originally from Mace-
don in northern Greece) had close diplomatic, military, and economic ties
to Rome going back to the third century BCE; many Romans dreamed of
exploring the ancient wonders of Egypt, such as the Pyramids of Giza, and
thought of the country as an exotic, fascinating place. Regardless of all this,
Romans generally did not hold Egyptians as people in high regard.
Religious chauvinism played a part here; one thing the Romans thought
they knew about Egyptians was the “strangeness” of their religious beliefs
and practices. Evidence reveals, for example, how Romans had a problem
with a society that worshipped gods depicted with the heads of animals;
something about this blending of animal and deity, smacking perhaps of
bestiality, deeply disturbed traditional Romans. Tightly bound up with such
prejudices against Egyptian religion was the Roman Senate’s attempt to
suppress the worship of the Egyptian gods Isis and Serapis within the Ital-
ian Peninsula in 53 BCE; this very popular “salvation” or “mystery” cult had
spread throughout most of the eastern Mediterranean region by then and
was making inroads further west.
Why the cult’s spread became an issue worth worrying about at the
senatorial level exactly at that time is unclear, but the cult must have had a
growing presence and the appearance of becoming a growing threat. The
targets of such suppression seem to have been primarily Roman citizens,
perhaps viewed as forsaking their own, native religion in favor of a “foreign
import,” rather than Egyptians resident in Rome, who had every right
under the laws and customs of the Roman People of worshipping as they
chose (at least, behind closed doors). In addition, there has been some
suggestion by scholars that Isis worshippers among the citizens of Rome
encouraged the reforms of more populist politicians (the so-called Popu-
lares) as opposed to the conservative obstructionism of their opponents
(the so-called Optimates); certainly, the teachings of Isis worship seemed
to promote an egalitarianism that would have disturbed many Roman aris-
tocrats. Politics, then, may have played a part, too, in the attitudes of some
Romans toward Egyptian ways in their midst.
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Egyptians
On top of all this, Optimate senators knew that their principal rivals in
the Senate at that time, the Triumvirs, Crassus, Pompey, and Caesar, had
close ties to the royal family of Egypt and perhaps better associations with
Egyptians than most Romans would have had. All three had keen interest
in the wealth of the country and had contacts with high-level represen-
tatives from there; Pompey especially had a close relationship with King
Ptolemy XII Auletes and fled to the royal children for safe haven after his
defeat at Caesar’s hands in the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BCE.
Other cultural prejudices deserve consideration here as well. Caesar, for
example, appears to have considered the Egyptians (by which he meant
both the natives of the country and the Greeks who inhabited places like
Alexandria) beneath the dignity of Rome, despite sharing his associates’ in-
terest in profiting from Egypt’s political turmoil; the murder of Pompey at
the hands of Egyptians disgusted him on many levels. On his own arrival in
Egypt, in pursuit of Pompey, Caesar saw what had happened to the Roman
soldiers left among Egyptians by their former commander, Gabinius, back
in 56 BCE; they had “gone native” in Caesar’s eyes, abandoning their own
customs and sense of order to become as “poorly disciplined” as the locals
were. Like other Romans, Caesar appears to have regarded the peoples of
Egypt as dissolute, enslaved to luxury and emotion, and reckless.
A war in Alexandria against the forces of Ptolemy XIII and Arsinoe fol-
lowed on the heels of Caesar’s arrival in 48 BCE; the account of it, written
by one of Caesar’s contemporaries (perhaps his long-time officer A. Hir-
tius), again conveys something of the mixed stereotypes about Egyptians
common among Caesar’s generation. The author refers to the people of Al-
exandria, for instance, as deceitful, treacherous, and opportunistic. On the
other hand, he also gives them, and the native Egyptians who lived along
the Mediterranean coast, credit for their expertise in seafaring, something
alien to the Romans themselves and worthy of some respect. At the same
time, since they had acquired this skill naturally from childhood, the author
could almost be taken as regarding them in the same class as animals, reli-
ant on instincts rather than organized training (like the Romans); besides,
no Roman would place sailors on the same high level as soldiers.
Overall, the Egyptians were, in Roman eyes, a people on the decline.
Their ancestors certainly had achieved greatness, but now millions of
them were held under control by a much smaller Greek elite, includ-
ing a royal family that seemed bent on destroying itself. Egyptian power
was no more, and their Greek overlords lived in a world of opulence and
backstabbing. Uprisings of the population occurred frequently in the first
century BCE, proving that the Egyptians had some fighting spirit, but the
Romans (wrongly) saw most of this coming only from the Greeks among
them, and even then it never seemed to really accomplish much, except
to bring more instability, which Romans loathed within any society.
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Elections
Respect for the people or a desire to liberate them from oppression did
not motivate Caesar to stay in Egypt; he did so to restore order under
Cleopatra’s leadership. When his adopted son, Octavian, waged war against
her almost two decades later, he drew upon all the stereotypes Romans
had by then built up about the Egyptians, condemning Cleopatra as the
ruler of a degenerate population, fit for subjection to and enslavement by
Rome, and certainly not deserving of rising again to regional prominence
and power, which Cleopatra fervently hoped to attain. Even after incorpo-
rating Egypt into the Roman Empire, Octavian made it a point not to allow
Egyptian aristocrats to become members of the Roman Senate, for fear of
what he saw as their revolutionary tendencies, fickleness, and lack of char-
acter; indeed, there would be no Egyptian senators until two centuries after
the conquest of Egypt. Furthermore, under the emperors who followed
Octavian-Augustus, the most famous Roman literature kept alive and rein-
forced the anti-Egyptian prejudices.
See also: Alexandria; Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Cleopa-
tra (d. 30 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Egypt; Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE);
Religion, Roman
Further Reading
Turcan, R. 1996. The Cults of the Roman Empire. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publish-
ing.
Elections
The men of the Roman upper classes, and Julius Caesar is a prime example,
sought to join the Senate and become magistrates of the Republic. To do
so, they had to win over members of their own social class and court the
lower orders of Roman society through the processes of elections.
In Caesar’s time, elections for different offices took place among dif-
ferent gatherings of voters, at different times of the year, and at different
317
Elections
locations. Consuls and praetors (offices holding imperium or the right to

command and be obeyed) were elected by the Popular Assembly known as
the Comitia Centuriata (Assembly of Centuries or Centuriate Assembly),
which normally met each summer for that purpose in the Campus Martius
or Field of Mars just outside the city limits of Rome. Candidates for the cu-
rule aedileship and the quaestorship stood for election at another Popular
Assembly called the Comitia Tributa (Assembly of Tribes or Tribal Assem-
bly), which met each fall in the Comitium of the Roman Forum. Lastly, the
Concilium Plebis or Meeting of the Plebeians also convened each fall in the
Comitium area to elect tribunes of the plebs and plebeian aediles. Consuls,
praetors, aediles of either type, and quaestors assumed office on the first of
January; tribunes did so on the tenth of December.
The mechanisms of election during the Late Republic varied and de-
pended on the assembly in which they took place. In the Centuriate As-
sembly, all the adult male citizens gathered together but did not vote all
at once; instead, the presiding magistrates divided the voters so that they
would cast their ballots in separate groups (centuries), like the delegations
from states in our political party conventions. A ballot distributor handed
each voter a wax-covered, wooden tablet on which the latter himself in-
scribed the name or names of candidates he wished to support for office;
the voter then walked across a ceremonial bridge and cast his ballot into a
basket watched over by a poll guard, who handed the full basket to the bal-
lot counters. Each man’s vote contributed not to the majority vote of the
whole assembly but only to the majority vote of his group, which, unlike
modern convention delegations, consisted of men close in age and wealth.
The presiding magistrates operated the entire proceedings in such a way
that more voting groups consisted of the wealthier citizens and the wealthiest
groups voted first in sequence; they voted one at a time, with the results
from one group publicized immediately before the next group voted. In
those elections for which we have sufficient information, most of the voting
groups followed the lead of whichever wealthy group of voters cast their
ballots first, such was its influence in a traditionally minded, precedent-
following society like Rome. The voting of the assembly stopped as soon as
a majority of groups had cast their ballots, which usually meant when the
wealthy citizens had all voted, no matter that thousands of less affluent and
downright poor voters never had the chance to do so.
As for Rome’s other two electoral institutions, only plebeian men at-
tended the Meeting of Plebeians, while plebeians and patricians attended
the Tribal Assembly. Otherwise, both seemed to have operated in a similar
fashion during elections. The presiding magistrates instructed the voters in
each assembly to form themselves into groups called tribes, defined primar-
ily by the voter’s place of residence; one cast one’s ballot, in the manner
noted above, along with other men from one’s tribe to establish the tribe’s
318
Elections
choice of a candidate or candidates. Each tribe voted in succession, the

presiding magistrates determining the sequence by lot and announcing the
results before the next tribe voted (which again influenced the later votes),
until a majority of tribal votes brought victory. This meant that, as in the
case of centuries noted above, not all tribes voted either.
Surviving Roman sources do not tell us exactly how many voters were
present at any of these assemblies, and, though they do not specify any
required quorum, they do indicate that presiding magistrates had the au-
thority to fill depleted centuries or tribes with any voters they chose, which
suggests some expectation of a minimum number of voters. The evidence
also reveals that massive electoral support from the city of Rome and far
beyond was mobilized by the most ambitious politicians.
Unlike in today’s elections, in Rome, the incumbent magistrates had
the responsibility of calling for qualified candidates to present their inten-
tion to replace them, and either accepted or rejected those who offered
themselves. Though some elected officials of the Roman Republic had to
prove the status of their families (e.g., candidates for tribune of the plebs
who had to be plebeians or candidates for curule aedile who had to be pa-
tricians), the primary requirement for office-holding by the time of Julius
Caesar was wealth in land; one had to own property valuing a minimum of
400,000 sesterces or 100,000 denarii. Since the common laborer in Rome
made something like 300–400 denarii a year, this placed candidates for of-
fice at a wealth level of roughly 300 times the annual income of such work-
ers; this is comparable to the difference in our society between the income
of a school teacher and of a multi-millionaire.
In addition, Roman law codified political customs that had been in place
for generations regarding the age of the candidate (e.g., a minimum of
forty-two years to be consul or thirty years to be tribune) and the holding
of prerequisite offices before holding others (especially serving as praetor
before consul and consul before censor).
Once the slate of candidates had been established, the incumbent mag-
istrates set the exact date for the election, which, according to Roman law,
had to be at least twenty-four days later and fall on a day the Romans called
comitial, that is, favored by the omens for meetings of the voting assembly.
Men from a very small circle of aristocratic families actually attained
high office in the Roman Republic. Generally, conservative and traditional
Roman voters regarded a candidate as the representative of his family, and if
previously his family had served well and earned distinction, the voters were
only too willing to stick with that family, to expect similar success from its
younger generation and other relations.
Nonetheless, this tight aristocracy could not close ranks too much, or
the high offices, the sources of greatest honor in Roman society, would
not have been sufficiently staffed. In addition, a candidate’s desire to attain
319
Elections
certain positions at the earliest possible age (suo anno as the Romans said)
certainly fueled competition, and competition for the highest positions,
the two consulships available each year, was always intense even within the
tight aristocratic core; ambitious men wanted to rise from the more numer-
ous tribunates and quaestorships at the bottom of the political hierarchy,
through the fewer aedileships and praetorships, to finally reach those most
coveted, prestigious, and powerful consulships that, in addition, conferred
on the winner and his family the status of nobilitas, nobility. Such competi-
tion made campaigning for office vital to Roman politics.
Despite the extensive oratorical training so common among the Roman
elite of Caesar’s day, those standing for office were neither required to
debate one another nor to make speeches in public. In fact, it seems that
candidates even avoided meetings of the Senate or the Popular Assem-
blies so as not to become embroiled in the current political disputes.
The most public thing a candidate for office might do, either as a private
citizen or in his current position, was to provide spectacles, banquets, or
other forms of entertainment for the citizens of Rome. Caesar famously
bankrupted himself putting on a gladiatorial show in the Forum when he
was aedile in hopes of winning over enough voters to be elected praetor
(which he was).
Campaigning for votes took place primarily in private, on a more one-
on-one level, and might in fact be a project stretching over many months or
even years ahead of time, though especially focused in the period between
the last election and one’s own candidacy. The candidate would choose
times of the year when many voters came into Rome from the countryside
and the more distant parts of Italy to access the greatest number of poten-
tial supporters in the most convenient way. Rarely did he have a detailed
political program to present to the voters, but instead ran on his previous
career in office (if he had served before), his military record (if he had one
of distinction), his family ancestry and connections, his own reputation and
personal values.
Among one’s fellow members of the Roman upper classes and any lead-
ing voters from the citizen towns of Italy, the candidate typically sought
to win over as many as possible by assuring them that his political ideals
matched theirs; what this usually translated into was tailoring one’s ideals
to win over the most valuable allies in the polls, regardless of political con-
viction. It is safe to assume that since conservative voters dominated the
Centuriate Assembly, conservative rhetoric dominated the promises of most
candidates for consul or praetor, while, since populist issues frequently dom-
inated the Plebeian Assembly, populist rhetoric was more appropriate for
the candidates seeking to become a tribune of the plebs or a plebeian aedile.
Mobilizing upper-class friends (amici in Latin), conceived of in a
very wide sense, was also essential. The candidate freely recalled ties of
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Elections
closeness and affection, marriage or blood relation, neighborliness, associa-

tion through social groups, and so on, as well as any outstanding obliga-
tions (whether promised or already discharged) between himself and such
friends. He shamelessly made new friends with prominent voters during
the election cycle simply to gain their support; he made, or at least tried to
make, peace in any way possible with his enemies, both personal and politi-
cal, at least until the election was over, to prevent them and their support-
ers from ruining his chances. This might happen by doing one’s enemies a
kindness, by promising to help them or protect their interests in the future,
by convincing them that one had always acted for the good of the state or
of friends rather than out of personal malice toward them, and by treating
one’s enemies in a friendly fashion during the campaign.
The methods of canvassing for support among the rest of the voting pub-
lic differed little from what we still see on “stumping tours” today: shaking
hands, kissing babies, making promises, seeking to make every voter one’s
friend. Candidates campaigned with nomenclatores by their side to ensure
this; these assistants compiled the names, concerns, and other useful in-
formation about the voters who supported or leaned toward supporting
the candidate, so that when he went to thank or persuade those voters, he
could appear to know them all personally, a great psychological advantage.
Candidates understood that courteous, appreciative, attentive, and charm-
ing behavior would win over most voters and potentially keep them coming
back to vote in future elections; they understood that their so-called social
inferiors demanded such courting from aristocrats. Also, one always made
sure to have a large group of people in attendance whether at home, in the
Roman Forum, or merely walking alongside on the streets of the city to
serve as a visible symbol of one’s prestige and popularity, which were con-
sidered worthy criteria for officeholders.
Every decision and action of one’s life could be used as part of one’s
campaign for high office. Either in public or in private, the candidate’s
ability to play up his life and career counted for much, and especially to
display impeccable moral character. Like today, character assassination and
mudslinging were perfectly acceptable methods in Roman electioneering,
in fact, almost demanded by the personal nature of elections, which, lack-
ing so much programmatic content, could do little else but focus on per-
sonal qualities. This also made one’s large retinue of supporters that much
more important: who gathered around the candidates would reveal many
differences of reputation between one and another. Caesar’s famous con-
temporary, Cicero, for example, boasted about having all the most respon-
sible, most respectable citizens in attendance on him, while his opponent,
Catiline, surrounded himself with thieves, immoral women, gladiators and
actors (both disreputable professions in Roman society), and various other
degenerates. Even the sorts of people who attended the candidate at certain
321
Epilepsy
times of the day or on certain occasions made significant impressions on the

voters, who assumed that those who were more deeply supportive or more
deeply obligated to the candidate attended most diligently and most often.
Other, less reputable means to secure votes against one’s opponents ex-
isted in Caesar’s day. At the elections, though ballots were secret, one might
bribe the poll guards and the ballot counters to manipulate the votes. The
candidate might send around his supporters or agents to employ violence
and intimidation to persuade voters in one direction or another. Two or
more candidates might use the coitio, or shut-out deal made between them,
against their common rivals, as Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus did in forming
what we call the First Triumvirate.
Elections, then, brought many characteristic traits and institutions of
Roman society into play. They also provided all citizens with a sense that
they had a significant role in the workings of the Republic.
See also: Ambitus/Bribery; Calendar; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clo-
dius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Coinage/Money; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Pa-
trons and Clients; Popular Assemblies; Senate; Triumvirate
Further Reading
University Press.
Press.
Yakobson, A. 1999. Elections and Electioneering in Rome. Stuttgart, Germany:
Franz Steiner Verlag.
Epilepsy
In his adult years, Julius Caesar suffered from a chronic ailment that the
Greeks called epilepsia, “the seizure illness,” from which derives our En-
glish word for the disease, epilepsy. For reasons that are unclear, the Ro-
mans referred to it as morbus comitialis, “illness of the assembly meeting”;
perhaps it was there that people in general might see its effects take hold
on someone (as opposed to the privacy in which they could wrap it within
their own homes) or perhaps the frenetic energy of the Popular Assemblies,
often conducted in the brutal heat of summer, generated conditions that
provoked the illness. The various populations of the ancient Mediterra-
nean world identified epilepsy as a distinct condition and understood it to
cause mood swings, convulsions, and a semiconscious or even unconscious
state. They did not distinguish, as modern scientists do, between grand
mal epilepsy (with convulsions) and petit mal epilepsy (without), but the
322
Epilepsy
descriptions of particular symptoms contained in ancient sources can usu-

ally tell us which type of epilepsy was involved. The ancient evidence con-
firms that Caesar suffered from grand mal epilepsy.
According to the Imperial biographer Plutarch, Caesar experienced
his first epileptic seizure in the city of Corduba (modern Córdoba) in the
Roman province of Further Spain. Though Plutarch does not provide a
date for this incident, it must have taken place either in 69 BCE, when Cae-
sar served in the province as financial officer (quaestor) for the governor,
or near the close of that decade, when he held the governorship of Further
Spain for two or three years. He would have been, then, in his early thirties
in the first case or late thirties in the second.
From that time on, Caesar, who had tried to remain physically fit since
childhood, became obsessed with pushing his body to the limit, which he
thought was the best method of keeping his illness at bay. Especially while
on military campaigns, he ate very simply and slept out under the open sky
or on the move in his covered wagon or in a litter; he rode and fought as
hard as his troops and rarely took an easier route when they had to travel
by a more challenging path. He especially regarded training and action in
battle as most beneficial to strengthening his constitution against seizures.
We are told that his soldiers marveled at his stamina and physical drive over
the years. Yet, he still suffered at least two epileptic attacks while on cam-
paign serious enough to have been recorded by ancient historians and biog-
raphers; the evidence suggests that he experienced lesser attacks frequently
during his many years of military exploits.
Caesar quickly came to recognize the signs of an approaching attack
(particularly the debilitating headaches) and apparently found ways to hide
what was happening from his troops, especially in critical circumstances.
For instance, in 46 BCE, while waging war against his political enemies in
North Africa, Caesar began to feel the symptoms as he marshaled his troops
for battle. According to one account of what happened next, rather than
demoralize his men by conducting the engagement in a weakened state or
having a full-blown seizure in front of them, Caesar left the operations in
the care of his able lieutenants and retreated, with the help of his atten-
dants, into the safety of one of his siege towers nearby.
He was not above using his epilepsy, however, as a cover for behavior of
which others disapproved. For instance, on at least one occasion near the
end of his career, while he held the dictatorship in Rome, he insulted the
members of the Senate by not standing up to greet them on their coming
to speak with him. The stirring of ill feeling among the People of Rome
which his behavior caused exasperated Caesar; he stood up on the Speak-
ers’ Platform (Rostra) in the Roman Forum and cried out to the gathering
crowds that anyone who wanted to punish him, if he was really such a ter-
rible leader, might stab him in the throat right then and there, and he even
323
Epilepsy
uncovered his neck to show them where to strike. This reaction actually just
made matters worse, so, not long afterward, he begged forgiveness for his
behavior, blaming it on his epilepsy; according to Caesar, epileptics were
prone to bizarre actions as they lost control of their senses.
A number of ancient sources, though, regarded this as just an excuse.
Caesar had consciously decided not to stand for his senatorial visitors, such
sources asserted, either on his own or through the advice of counselors, and
he had flared into a rage against the people because they had not supported
his insulting the senators. His illness had nothing to do with it.
In the last month or so of his life, Caesar’s health appears to have got-
ten worse. Indeed, the Imperial biographer Suetonius later recorded the
opinion of some of Caesar’s own friends who explained his lack of caution
in those days, especially his cavalier attitude toward conspiracies (for which
there were all sorts of indicators), as a sort of death wish, a desire to open
himself up to danger because his health issues were making continued liv-
ing unbearable. Even on the last day of his life, the very day of his assassina-
tion, in the midst of the worries of his wife Calpurnia, whose bad dreams
warned her that her husband should not expose himself to any dangers
that day, he experienced some serious epileptic symptoms, especially diz-
ziness and vertigo, though no full-blown seizures. He hesitated attending
the fateful meeting of the Senate (where the Conspirators intended to kill
him), not only because of Calpurnia being upset but also because of his
own very real physical difficulties; doctors in attendance on him, in fact,
advised Caesar not to leave his house or risk jeopardizing his condition fur-
ther. The convulsions of his body after the assassins attacked him may have
been more than simply the throes of death; indeed, he may have gone into
a form of seizure as a result of the attack.
It appears likely that many had learned of Caesar’s epilepsy by that point.
In his later years, especially, he himself seems to have assumed that every-
one in Rome knew about it. So, he began to speak of it with candor, even if
he used it, at times, to cover up more deliberated actions. He also used his
illness to associate himself with the divine and heroic realms. A particular
tradition among the Greeks and, under their cultural influence, the Romans
considered epilepsy a sort of possession by the gods, hence its nickname,
the “sacred disease.” It was also said that Alexander the Great had suffered
from epilepsy.
Thus, epilepsy may have dogged Caesar for twenty years of his life, and
it may even have served as a factor in his surrender to death, but it also
seemed to confirm his status as specially blessed by the gods.
See also: Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE); Army; Calpurnia; Conspiracy
of the Liberators (44 BCE); Dictator; Forum Romanum; Ides of March;
Plutarch’s Lives; Popular Assemblies; Provinces; Religion, Roman; Senate;
Spain
324
Equites
Further Reading
inger Publishing.
Scarborough, J. 1969. Roman Medicine. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Equites
In the stratified society of ancient Rome, the equites (rendered as cavalry,
equestrians or knights by English-speaking scholars) held second place
below the senatorial order.
According to Roman tradition, the early kings of the city gave war horses,
and the supplies to maintain them, to 1,800 men from upper-class families,
thus establishing the Roman cavalry. With the founding of the Republic in
the late sixth century BCE, this providing of “public” horses continued and
became the responsibility of the Senate. The Senate seems to have con-
ferred the duty and honor of serving among the early equites along the lines
of heredity, with certain sons inheriting the right of the public horse (equo
publico) from their fathers. When the Roman government began to take
censuses of the population in the fifth century BCE, the equestrians were
enrolled separate from the rest of the first (wealthiest) class of citizens in
eighteen centuries (in this case meaning voting groups) of their own; these
centuries had the privilege of voting first in the Centuriate Assembly, which
elected officials to wield military authority.
By about 200 BCE, contingents from populations allied and subjected to
Roman rule had, for the most part, replaced the Roman cavalry as a fight-
ing force, but the equites and their families retained their high social posi-
tion in the aristocracy of Rome and continued to supply the junior officers
and advisory staffers of the top military commanders, who came from the
Senate. Such equites were often referred to as equites equestri censu, mean-
ing that they were enrolled in the equestrian order by the censors by virtue
of their health, character, and especially financial resources; under the early
emperors, the census rating for equestrians was set at 400,000 sesterces in
assets, though many of them would have had much more, but we cannot
be sure of how much the Republican censors expected them to have. In any
event, if they passed the official scrutiny (recognitio) applied to the old cav-
alry, such men thereby qualified for “cavalry status.” They were permitted to
display this status, along with their public horse, for all to see every July 15
in the transvectio equitum, a formal parade through the Roman Forum fo-
cused on the Temple of Castor and Pollux, patron deities of cavalry.
325
Equites
For a long time, there was a lot of gray area between the equestrian sta-
tus and that of the senatorial order. A law of 218 BCE attempted to curb
the excessive wealth of senators by prohibiting them from owning ships of
extreme size, leaving, by default, the large-scale trade at sea to the equites.
A century later, in 129 BCE, another law formally excluded senators from
the eighteen equestrian centuries, confining them to the first census class.
This law also demanded that an eques return his public horse, the symbol
of his status, to the state, if he was elected to a senatorial magistracy; he,
thus, became a member of the senatorial order, but his wife and children,
especially his sons, remained equites officially. This was the case of Cn. Pom-
peius Strabo; he had risen from equestrian status to become a member of
the Senate in the late second century BCE, yet his more famous son, Pompey
the Great, Caesar’s erstwhile colleague and rival, remained an eques (until
his own entry into the senatorial order many years later by way of the con-
sulship). The reason for the law of 129 BCE is unknown, as is who was or
were behind it, but it marked a formal division between the equestrian and
senatorial orders.
By the Late Republic, equites could be distinguished from senators by
how they dressed: senators wore the long Roman tunic with broad purple
stripes (latus clavus) along the edge(s), while equestrians wore it with nar-
row purple striping (angusti clavus); in public, senators were also expected
to regularly wear a toga with the latus clavus, while equestrians only wore
theirs (with the angustus clavus) on special occasions. Equites also wore a
distinctive gold ring on their left hands. At public spectacles, especially the
theater and games, members of the equestrian order had special seating,
separate from senators and other citizens.
By tradition and law, equites who remained equites stayed out of the po-
litical arena and social prejudice placed them below senators. Yet, equestri-
ans owned considerable property in land, and invested the profits from that
property in building prestige, both just like the senators. Many of them had
senatorial patrons (e.g., Marius, backed by the Metelli and Julii), and many
senators engaged equites as their partners or front-men in large-scale busi-
ness activities, regardless of the legality of doing so. Marriage and other so-
cial ties still linked equestrian and senatorial families together, such as when
the equestrian Pompey married Aemilia Scaura, step-daughter of dictator
Sulla and descendant from an extensive lineage of the senatorial order. The
social standing of both groups was extremely high; and many sons of sena-
tors, though technically equites, rose from that status to become members
of the Senate themselves. Again, a case in point was Pompey the Great,
who rose from the equestrian order to the Senate mainly on his own mer-
its, though following in the footsteps of his father, Pompeius Strabo, who
made that same social climb up the ladder himself, though not in so ex-
traordinary a way as his son.
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Equites
The equestrian order grew to become a diverse group. It included sons of

senators, public contractors and tax-farmers (publicani), big businessmen
(negotiatores), judges (iudices), other government staffers (e.g., scribae/
secretaries), all because these groups satisfied the criteria of the equestrian
census. Many equites were prominent citizens from Rome itself, while many
more were Roman citizens born in other towns of Italy, such as Arpinum,
from which came the famous general Marius, uncle of Caesar, and the fa-
mous orator Cicero, Caesar’s contemporary.
Arpinum’s two famous, favorite sons came from families that were quite
prominent locally, indeed, domi nobiles or hometown aristocrats, but were
not part of the Roman senatorial elite; they rose from equestrian status by
moving to Rome and winning public office, thereby gaining senatorial sta-
tus. Marius never really seems to have adjusted to this; despite his many
connections to the senatorial families, such as his marriage to Caesar’s aunt,
Julia, member of one of the most ancient patrician clans in Rome, he con-
tinued to maintain, cultivate, and show off his equestrian roots, displaying
a clear political favoritism for the equites not only from Rome but also from
the towns across Italy, and receiving from them consistent political and fi-
nancial support throughout his career. Cicero, too, never forgot his eques-
trian origins, but his extreme pride in rising within the world of the Senate
created in him a sort of infatuation with the best families and traditions
of its order; contrary to Marius, who always seemed to find a way to pit
the two orders against one another, Cicero dedicated himself to bringing
about concordia ordinum (harmony between the two orders), and openly
blamed Marius, and the popular politician, C. Sempronius Gracchus before
him, for having encouraged division within the aristocracy of the State, the
“two-headed monster,” as Cicero called it.
The equites had achieved some level of unity, thanks to Gracchus, who
had attracted large numbers of them to his anti-senatorial agenda in the
late second century BCE. He understood that their votes carried valuable
political weight in the Centuriate Assembly. His land law, which appar-
ently promoted redistribution of public lands to wealthy investors, would
have appealed to many of the equites; his laws on public grain, road-
building, and new colonies would have provided them with many oppor-
tunities to profit from the new public contracts. Two of Gracchus’s laws
favored members of the equestrian order most of all. The law regarding
the new province of Asia (roughly western Turkey today) arranged the col-
lecting of taxes there by equestrian publicani, placing them in the way of
corrupt senatorial officials who might otherwise have tried (as they did else-
where) to skim off enormous provincial profits for themselves. Of course,
Gracchus was basically allowing the equites to do so instead, but this did
secure their support for his projects. His judiciary law removed senatorial
judges from the standing court on gubernatorial corruption (quaestio de
327
Equites
repetundis) and gave control of that court to judges selected for their level
of wealth (in other words, from the equestrian order), while it also appar-
ently established a mixed list of equestrian and senatorial judges to draw
from for the other standing courts of the time; the law effectively put all
senators on their guard and senatorial governors, in particular, under the
thumb of equestrian judges.
So, despite his own untimely demise, Gracchus had left behind an
equestrian order with a new sense of its own power and leverage, a threat
to exclusive senatorial control of Rome. Gracchus’s changes to the ju-
diciary exacerbated a growing cleavage between the two orders of the
Roman aristocracy by giving them a battleground in which to harass one
another and carry on political and personal feuds. Still, the conflicts in the
courts were often inconclusive because neither order was homogeneous
nor politically consistent enough. In fact, since they were so similar on
so many issues, the most heated controversy between senators and eq-
uites was not over the achievement of some particular legal ideals or prin-
ciples (e.g., neither were much concerned with fiscal probity) but simply
which side or other would control the courts; it was a matter of power
and money.
Even greater division between the orders developed over support for
particular political candidates. As equestrian tax collectors and businessmen
became enormously wealthier out of the Gracchan reforms, and conse-
quently more influential in Roman society, they threw their weight be-
hind senators who would favor their projects and prosperity. This put them
at odds with powerful opposing factions within the Senate. So, as noted
above, the equestrian order always backed Caesar’s uncle, the great Mar-
ius, against his senatorial rivals, especially Sulla. Sulla, once dictator, found
various ways to beat down equestrian power (killing hundreds of them, in
fact, as public enemies and removing them from judicial privileges in the
courts), though he also found it expedient to co-opt hundreds of coopera-
tive equites into the Senate itself. Several of Sulla’s “successors,” especially
Pompey and Crassus, gathered equestrian support; this was easy for Pom-
pey, since he began his rise to fame as an eques himself, and as for Crassus,
he was one of those senators who were not at all embarrassed about engag-
ing in business deals as not-so-silent partners with equites. Both tried their
best to promote equestrian interests, not only by defending the publicani
at every turn, especially in their tax-collecting negotiations with the Roman
Senate, but also by supporting the efforts of praetor L. Aurelius Cotta, a
relative of Caesar’s, who restored equites in partnership with senators as
judges in the law courts. The need for this had been made clear by many
cases, including that of P. Scandilius, an equestrian citizen in the province
of Sicily, who had tried to expose the blatant corruption of the senatorial
328
Equites
governor, C. Verres, but could not get his case heard in a Roman court
because of senatorial dominance of the system. Peaceful sharing of judicial
power by the orders helped reduce such abuses.
Any moves in favor of the equites engendered the strong opposition
of prominent Optimate senators, like Cato the Younger and Lucullus.
Lucullus had a special axe to grind against the equites, since the tax
collectors among them, whom he had restricted in their extortionate
practices in Rome’s eastern provinces, had essentially fomented a po-
litical movement to remove him from military command and destroy
his career. The new equestrian political consciousness, though, had also
promoted the career of Cicero, and others of their order, who tried to
overcome such hostilities and work in closer cooperation with the sena-
torial elite.
Finally, even though he had begun his early days in politics as a senatorial
snob of sorts, breaking off his engagement to Cossutia, member of a very
wealthy equestrian family in the building trade, to make what he consid-
ered a better marriage alliance with a young woman of the senatorial order,
Julius Caesar, when consul and through much of his later career, gener-
ally followed the approach of his colleagues Pompey and Crassus. He in-
cluded many young equestrians among his junior officers and staffers while
on campaign in Gaul and during the civil war with his senatorial enemies and
promoted outstanding rank-and-file soldiers to equestrian status. Once he
became the dictator in Rome, Caesar added hundreds of Roman and espe-
cially Italian equestrians to the Senate, but he also followed in the footsteps
of Lucullus and used his powers to curb the corruption of the equestrian
tax collectors, which his two former colleagues had, in fact, done a lot to
encourage.
See also: Balbus; Cato (95–46 BCE); Census; Clothing; Coinage/Money;
Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Elections; Legal Profession; Lucullus
(118–57 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE);
Oppius and Hirtius; Optimates; Popular Assemblies; Populares; Senate;
Temple of Castor and Pollux; Trade; Taxation/Tax Farming
Further Reading
Brunt, P. A. 1988. The Fall of the Roman Republic. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
Hill, H. 1952. The Roman Middle Class in the Republican Period. Oxford, UK:
Blackwell Publishing.
Nicolet, C. 1980. The World of the Citizen in Republican Rome. Berkeley and Los
329
Eulogies/Imagines
Eulogies/Imagines
It was traditional among elite Romans to honor their dead with a lauda-
tio funebris, a funeral speech literally glorifying (laus in Latin) the deceased
for his (and later her) character and accomplishments. Usually, delivering
this address to the assembled crowd of mourners and spectators was the
responsibility and privilege of the deceased’s son, authorized by the Sen-
ate; if that son were too young or if there were no son to pronounce the
eulogium (from the Greek for “good words”), another male relative of the
deceased would take up this duty. Of course, the most celebrated eulogy
modern people think of from Roman times was that honoring Julius Caesar
in 44 BCE, as presented by his cousin, friend, and lieutenant, Marc Antony.
In point of fact, however, Antony did not deliver a traditional eulogy; the
famous English playwright, William Shakespeare, has left us with a false
memory thanks to his own spiced-up version of a eulogy for Caesar.
The Roman scholar Pliny the Elder preserved a famous eulogy of senator
L. Caecilius Metellus, a hero of the First Punic War who died in 221 BCE.
According to the speech, Metellus had achieved the ten greatest goals of
the wise man: on the field of battle, he had been a first-class warrior, a brave
commander, and made his mark in campaigns of historical significance;
both on and off the field, he had been an excellent orator and a highly es-
teemed member of the Senate, respected as extremely wise, rewarded with
greatest distinctions; lastly, he enjoyed great honor and honest wealth, and
left behind many children to carry on his name and reputation. In Pliny’s
estimation, no one else since the time of Rome’s founding had achieved all
the things Metellus had; so, even Julius Caesar, who had died nearly a cen-
tury before Pliny’s writing, did not, in the latter’s view, deserve the sort of
eulogy given for Metellus.
Q. Lutatius Catulus, a cousin of Caesar’s father, extended the reach of
the funeral eulogy by delivering one publicly for his own mother; it had not
been part of Roman tradition to honor women, even those of the elite, in
this way. Caesar himself became even more famous for the eulogies he de-
livered from the speaker’s platform in the Forum Romanum in honor of his
aunt Julia, wife of Marius, and his own wife Cornelia, daughter of Cinna,
both of whom died in the year 69 BCE. The eulogy for Cornelia was even
more of a departure from tradition since it was not common to make such
speeches on behalf of young women (Cornelia was somewhere between
twenty-five or thirty years old at the time of her death).
Just as funeral addresses for men typically included the exploits of other
prominent males of the deceased’s family, beginning with those who died
furthest in the past and moving forward in time through the others, Cae-
sar’s eulogies for Julia and Cornelia did also give much attention to their
male ancestors and connections. Indeed, in Julia’s case, he made sure to
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Eulogies/Imagines
emphasize that she was descended on her mother’s side from the family of
the Marcii Reges, who could trace their ancestry all the way back to Rome’s
fourth king, Ancus Marcius; her father’s family, the Julii Caesares, Cae-
sar asserted, descended from the goddess Venus herself. Judging from the
popular reaction of the assembled crowds, Caesar must have also included
positive statements about Julia’s husband, Marius. Almost definitely, he
followed the same approach with Cornelia’s eulogy, thus resurrecting the
reputation of her father Cinna.
As noted above, Marc Antony did not deliver a traditional eulogy in Cae-
sar’s honor. Indeed, our sources emphasize how he deliberately avoided
doing so, instead just adding a few comments to the public reading of
Caesar’s will and of the senatorial decrees that had awarded Caesar human
and divine honors.
Funeral eulogies, or at least portions of them, might also be carved in
stone and set up in front of tombs outside Roman cities. In this way, pass-
ersby might be reminded of the deceased’s life story and the all-important
Roman goal of gaining immortality through remembrance might be
attained.
The speaker of a eulogy linked the deceased clearly and firmly in a well-
established chain or lineage of achievement, virtue, fame, and service to
the state across generations. These generations of men were “present”
at the funeral through designated members of the family or professional
mourners who dressed up like them and hid their own faces behind the
imagines.
In Rome’s prominent families, upon the death of an adult male, his rela-
tives had a very accurate wax mask of his face molded. They placed this
imago in a wooden shrine conspicuously located in the atrium of their
home. The little shrines in which the imagines were kept were joined to-
gether by cords and marked with inscribed plaques; in this way, the imag-
ines served as visual aids to the children of a noble family, much as painted
portraits have done in more recent centuries, helping the younger genera-
tion to learn their lineage and family history, which most were expected
to memorize with great precision and detail.
Imagines were also brought out for display on family holidays as well as
public ones, to show that the deceased members of the family were still fully
involved in all the important events of their loved ones and their country.
Caesar deliberately brought out of mothballs the imagines of Marius, for
example, to adorn Julia’s funeral ceremony; since the time of the dictator
Sulla, the “face” of Marius, and the imagines of those condemned in mem-
ory along with him, had not been seen in public. The majority of Caesar’s
audience loudly and enthusiastically supported his actions, which endeared
him even further to the so-called Popularis camp. Eulogies and the presen-
tation of imagines could thus have serious political significance.
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Exile
In Caesar’s time, and certainly for a century or more previously, imag-

ines had also come to serve as models for full-blown portraits in stone,
and prominent families of Rome had preserved so many of their funeral
speeches in writing that these provided valuable information for the history
of Rome as a whole.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cornelia (d. 69 BCE);
Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Mourning/Funerals; Religion, Roman; Shake-
speare’s Julius Caesar (Original Play and Film Versions 1953, 1970)
Further Reading
Healy, J. 1991. Pliny the Elder: Natural History, a Selection. New York: Penguin
Publishing.
Lattimore, R. 1962. Themes in Greek and Latin Epitaphs. Urbana: Illinois Univer-
sity Press.
York: Penguin.
Shakespeare, W. 2000. Julius Caesar. Edited by D. Trevor. New York: Penguin
Publishing.
University Press.
Exile
The Romans had a long tradition of punishing their citizens not with death
but with exile for very serious crimes that might otherwise merit capital
punishment, especially criminal actions against the Senate and People of
Rome. Exile provided members of the Roman elite especially an “honor-
able” way out, but, in the Late Republic, it also contributed to the “revolv-
ing door” of political crisis.
Exsilium usually consisted of the “prohibition of water and fire” (aquae
et igni interdictio); in other words, the Senate ordered, on behalf of itself
and the People of Rome, that the exiled individual be denied the basics of
life by every Roman citizen or anyone subject to Roman jurisdiction. Their
order also usually included a provision mandating that this prohibition
applied in all directions over a certain distance from the city of Rome, often
enough of a distance that the exile could not reside anywhere within the
limits of the Italian Peninsula.
The state intended aquae et igni interdictio as a long-term penalty, per-
manent expulsion from the Roman community, and effective loss of citi-
zenship. Such an order did not apply to family members, which meant that
male citizens (all the cases from the Republic involve the exile of men of
332
Exile
various ranks) often left their female relatives, wives, and children behind to
cope with the consequences. These consequences worsened if confiscation
of assets was included in the order of exile.
Caesar would have learned about sentences of exile handed down before
his lifetime, such as the expulsion of those convicted under the Gracchan
judiciary law for provincial misconduct or under the Mamilian law of trea-
sonable misconduct during the war against Jugurtha of Numidia (modern
Algeria). During his own youth, he himself would have witnessed the exile
of his uncle, the famous General Marius, and the efforts of his father-in-
law, Cinna the Elder, on behalf of the latter and other exiles. Caesar would
have seen the supporters of Marius and Cinna, such as his brother-in-law,
Cinna the Younger, exiled. He might have suffered the same fate himself,
or worse, if relatives of his mother, Aurelia, had not come to the rescue
and interceded on his behalf with the the dictator, Sulla.
All this experience left a bad taste in Caesar’s mouth. As he rose to prom-
inence in his own political career, he backed the measures to restore exiles
to Rome on several occasions. For example, in the late 70s BCE, he spoke
in support of the Plautian law, which technically focused on allowing the
return of those Romans exiled for supporting the rebel general Lepidus the
Elder; in fact, many of those who had followed Lepidus had already been
exiled by Sulla or had joined another rebel exile, Sertorius (case in point,
Caesar’s brother-in-law), so Plautius’s successful law brought home exiles
from a number of crises in the Roman State.
Yet, Caesar did recognize the political usefulness of exile, such as when
he and his partners in government, Pompey and Crassus, arranged for the
plebeian tribune, Clodius, to get the famous orator Cicero exiled by vote
of the People of Rome; the latter had spoken once too often in criticism of
the Triumvirate (coalition of three) and its attempts to dominate the state.
Cicero anticipated the official order of interdictio by exiling himself (an-
other long-standing Roman tradition, accepted as legal and binding by the
state) to Greece. A few years later, his friend Milo, who had been charged
with the murder of Clodius, did something similar, going into self-imposed
exile in Massilia (modern Marseilles) to avoid the embarrassment of official
interdictio.
On becoming dictator himself, Caesar granted amnesty to every Roman
who was still under any interdictio, including his own political enemies, in
a blanket amnesty. He welcomed them all home and invited them to join
his government and his military staff. Having seen the devastating effects
exile had brought on individuals, families, and Roman politics, in general,
Caesar hoped to heal the old wounds, encourage cooperation for the good
of all, and restore stability.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian Family; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna the
Elder (d. 84 BCE); Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE); Citizenship; Clodius
333
Extraordinary Commands
(ca. 93–52 BCE); Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Dictator; Lepidus the
Elder (d. 77 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Milo (d. 48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
3rd ed. New York: Hard Press Publishing.
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
Ltd.
endon Press.
University Press.
The Senate and People of Rome relied on regularly elected magistrates
(consuls and praetors) to command their armies in battle and govern
the provinces of the empire. As that empire grew, covering these tasks
required an extension in the imperium (formal authority to command
and be obeyed) of some of these magistrates beyond their annual terms;
they then became proconsuls or propraetors, handling matters abroad
“in place of” the consuls and praetors of the year, who stayed home to
manage domestic matters. Thus, regular magistrates in one year often
expected to be assigned provincial duties as promagistrates in the follow-
ing year, perhaps with further extension beyond that. In special circum-
stances, however, the Republic assigned tasks and responsibilities beyond
these norms to magistrates in office and even to private citizens, confer-
ring upon them imperium extra ordinem, “unusual” or “extraordinary”
command.
334
At least as far back as the Second Punic War, the famous conflict between
Rome and the Carthaginian armies of Hannibal Barca in the late third cen-
tury BCE, the Senate and People of Rome had assigned such extraordinary
commands as a response to extreme crises. For instance, when two of the
principal Roman generals, Cn. Cornelius Scipio and his brother P. Corne-
lius Scipio, died fighting against enemy forces in Spain, the Senate placed
before the voters in the Assembly of Centuries the question of who should
replace them in command of that theater of operations; the voters selected
the son of P. Cornelius Scipio, a man of reputed bravery, famous already for
his own exploits against the Carthaginians, and possessing first-hand knowl-
edge of the situation in Spain, having served under his father and uncle
there for several years. Despite the fact that he was only twenty-five years old
and had never served as praetor or consul, which technically made him ineli-
gible for such a posting, the Senate approved the People of Rome’s choice
and conferred upon young Scipio an extraordinary command of indefinite
duration in Spain. He subsequently went on to defeat Hannibal in North
Africa, thereby acquiring the honorific name, “Africanus.”
Many members of the Senate came to resent Scipio for achieving so
much with the authority he wielded “beyond the ordinary”; after all, the
Senate held together for generations by sharing power fairly evenly among
its members and taking turns (ex ordine) winning glory for themselves and
their families. Over the next 130 years following the Hannibalic War, sena-
tors successfully resisted any temptation or popular desire to place another
of their number in such an unusual position; ordinary magistrates and pro-
magistrates could take care of things just fine. Even an invasion by Ger-
manic warriors at the end of the second century BCE and a rebellion of the
Italian allies early in the first century BCE did not budge them.
The Civil War among the Romans themselves, following immediately on
the heels of the Italian crisis, seems to have changed something, however.
A number of private citizens raised armies of their own to assist in the vic-
tory of one side, the one led by General Sulla. These individuals would not
be denied chances at further military glory, whether “out of order” or not.
Foremost among such men was Pompey the Great (as Sulla called him).
When one of his comrades from the Civil War, Lepidus the Elder, fomented
a new revolution against the state, the Senate assigned Pompey a special
subordinate command to assist the proconsular commander, Catulus the
Younger, in suppressing Lepidus; Pompey had never held any regular mag-
istracy and, indeed, was technically too young for such a posting. After
completing the mission, Pompey employed a veiled threat of marching his
own army against Rome to secure another extraordinary command, this
time proconsular imperium (even though he had never been consul) and
40,000 troops to fight in Spain alongside the legitimate promagistrate,
Metellus Pius, against Sertorius, another revolutionary leader.
335
His popularity and his victories in these conflicts of the seventies BCE laid
the foundation for the extraordinary commands Pompey received in the
following decade, when he was technically only a private citizen. Nonethe-
less, the voters granted him a special imperium infinitum (“command with-
out borders”) for a period of three years to quell the menace of piracy in
the eastern Mediterranean; having completed his task in only three months,
they then handed him wide-reaching provincial authority throughout Asia
Minor (modern Turkey) to end the war with Mithradates VI of Pontus
and Tigranes II of Armenia. He used that same authority also to conquer
nearby Syria and impose Roman influence in Judaea.
Though they may have regarded Pompey as an overly ambitious upstart,
even the “defenders of Republican traditions,” the self-styled Optimates,
took up extraordinary commands. L. Licinius Lucullus, for example, origi-
nally held the overarching imperium in Asia Minor that was later taken
from him and given to Pompey. One might argue that he held this impe-
rium as a proconsul (having served as consul when it began in 74 BCE), but
his authority over other commanders of similar rank (e.g., Cotta and Anto-
nius) in the region and the open-ended duration of his command certainly
qualified it as extraordinary.
The importance of imperium extraordinarium for career advancement,
wealth, and power did not escape the observant Julius Caesar. As con-
sul in 59 BCE, he made sure that the Senate and People of Rome granted
him a special array of provinces (Cisalpine Gaul, Transalpine Gaul, and
Illyricum) to govern for a special period of five years. Later, he worked
to extend that arrangement for another five years and to get similar post-
ings for his principal associates at the time, Pompey and Crassus, who
received extraordinary commands in the provinces of Spain and Syria,
respectively; Crassus, though not as honored by the People of Rome
with such things as Pompey had been, was no stranger to extraordinary
command, having been called out of private life by the government lit-
tle more than a decade earlier to smash the slave uprising of the famous
gladiator Spartacus.
In the last century of the Republic, then, senators desiring great promi-
nence and military honor sought extraordinary commands as a principal
means of achieving their goals. Other politicians resisted them in this (e.g.,
the Optimates Cato, Domitius Ahenobarbus, and the Marcellus cousins),
while many supported them, and the Roman voters in general tended to
view these “extraordinary” commanders as the best men for the task at
hand. Such unusual military authority destabilized the balance of power
within the Senate and across Roman society, however, provoking the Civil
War between Pompey and Caesar; the latter sought primarily to maintain
his extraordinary position in the state (which was the most extraordinary
of all those who had achieved such special commands), while the former,
336
and his Optimate allies, sought to cut Caesar back down to “ordinary”
size. In the aftermath of Caesar’s dictatorship and consequent assassination,
extraordinary commands continued, held both by the assassins of Caesar,
such as Brutus and Cassius (with their imperium maius, “extensive com-
mand,” throughout the eastern provinces), and by the successors of Cae-
sar, such as Lepidus the Younger, Marc Antony, and Octavian (who divided
the entire empire into spheres of imperium maius). In the end, Octavian
received from the Senate and People of Rome an array of extraordinary
commands throughout the empire, in a series of renewal periods that truly
defined him as Augustus, the first emperor of Rome.
Cato (95–46 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Domitius Ahenobarbus
(d. 48 BCE); Gloria/Glory; Honor; Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE); Lepidus the
Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Hono-
rum; Marcellus cousins; Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE); Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE); Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces; Senate
Further Reading
Ltd.
Press.
nesota Press.
Publishing.
Seager, R. 2002. Pompey the Great. 2nd edition. Oxford, UK: Blackwell
Publishing.
337
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
Missouri Press.
338
F
Festivals
Festivals
Romans loved their festivals. In Caesar’s time, close to one hundred days of
the year were dedicated holidays or festival days (feriae), suspending every
form of work in the city for at least half a day if not for an entire day. Most
of these were quite ancient.
Some festivals had special significance for the Roman army. The Quin-
quatrus, for instance, held between March 19 and 23, in honor of Minerva,
heralded the start of the campaigning season, dedicating the troops to the
goddess’s skills in battle. Other festivals were associated with the agricul-
tural foundations of the community. The Ludi Ceriales, for instance, were
held each year (April 12–19) in honor of Ceres, goddess of productivity
especially associated with the grain harvest, while the Ludi Florales (April
28–May 3) honored the goddess Flora, the spirit of flowering or blossom-
ing, and by extension, of springtime. Such festivals dedicated to particular
gods began with sacrifices at the appropriate temple, followed by parades
in which symbols of the deity were displayed to the accompaniment of
musical instruments. Under Greek cultural influence, the Romans incor-
porated plays and theatrical skits after the sacred procession and came to
call such festivals by the term ludi, as we have seen, which meant playtime
or game, in reference to stage, circus, and gladiatorial entertainments.
Probably the most significant agricultural festival was the Saturnalia. At
least, it was agricultural in its origins, as a celebration of the ancient Roman
god Saturn, whose special domain was protecting the sown seed. By Cae-
sar’s time, the Saturnalia had changed quite a bit and lasted not one but
seven days, from December 17 through December 23. A religious cere-
mony before Saturn’s temple in the Forum Romanum kicked off the festivi-
ties, together with a considerable banquet, provided free to all citizens in
attendance. Over the following days, free Romans did no work, closing all
their businesses and taking a break from farming; they celebrated with din-
ner parties at each other’s homes, by gift-giving (especially to children and
often as party favors), and lots of gambling and wine-drinking. During this
merry holiday season, they wore the freedman’s cap, the pilleus, as a sym-
bol of equality and fraternity; high-class Romans wore special, brightly col-
ored dining clothes (the synthesis or vestis cenatoria) outdoors, which they
would never have done normally. A similar special feature of the Saturna-
lia was trading places with one’s servants and slaves for a day. Thus, by the
Late Republic, this festival had become a jovial ritual for turning the world
upside down. The last day of the festival was the biggest for giving gifts, as
vendors gathered to sell little clay dolls, candles, and other intimate trinkets
to the holiday shoppers.
Festive banquets, like that of the Saturnalia, constituted an important
and vital supplement to the typical diet of most Romans, including, as such
341
Festivals
Marble relief of a celebration in honor of the god Dionysus, from the appropriately
named House of the Dionysiac in the ancient town of Herculaneum, Italy. The panel
depicts a dancing Maenad and a bearded man, probably Dionysus, facing each other
(right), while two other figures stand before an archaic Greek sculpture of Dionysus
(left). Herculaneum was destroyed by the volcanic eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 CE.
(Wessel Cirkel/Dreamstime.com)
occasions always did, a sizable helping of roasted meat. In addition, as in

many other festivals honoring particular gods, the people feasted alongside
the deities, whose images were placed on cushioned couches (lectisternia or
pulvinares) in the banquet area.
Other important festivals were the Ludi Romani in honor of Jupiter,
Juno, and Minerva (September 5–19) and the Ludi Plebeii, also in honor
of Jupiter (November 4–17), as well as the Ludi Megalenses in honor of
Magna Mater (April 4–10) and the Ludi Apollinares in honor of Apollo
(July 6–13).
Several Roman festivals were associated with family and rites of passage.
For example, Romans, like modern people, set aside a special day each year
to celebrate their mothers, but they also on that day honored their wives.
This Matronalia took place on the first of March and involved especially giv-
ing presents to those wives and mothers. At the Liberalia, held on March 17,
families often celebrated the passage of their sixteen- or seventeen-year-old
boys from childhood into adolescence, which Romans actually saw as adult-
hood for the young men. In the morning, the teenager would make an
offering to the guardian spirits of his household, the Lares, including his
childhood toga and his bulla (a gold or leather locket which he had worn
342
Festivals
since infancy); then, he donned the toga virilis, the white or off-white gar-
ment of manhood, and walked in a procession of family, friends, neighbors,
and servants (depending on the status of the young man’s family). His fa-
ther or male guardian led the way into the Forum Romanum, where simi-
lar processions from other families’ homes converged to congratulate one
another’s sons, along with the crowd of citizens celebrating the day of Fa-
ther Liber, an ancient Roman god of fertility and prosperity; the heavy as-
sociation of Liber with sexual fertility explains his festival’s connection with
a boy’s transition into manhood. After registering the young man officially
as a Roman citizen at the Temple of Saturn and making a sacrifice at the
temple of Liber up on the Aventine Hill, the families would return to their
separate homes for private celebrations.
In times of extreme crisis or in gratitude for averting great danger, the
Romans sometimes responded by holding supplications or prayers of hu-
mility. In such cases, the usually closed doors of certain temples, if neces-
sary, of all temples, were thrown open, so that the people could see the
statues of the gods inside, and the Senate decreed that the entire popula-
tion of the city visit those temples and perform rituals to the gods to make
amends for the human mistakes presumed to have precipitated the crisis or
to give thanks for the divine aid received to stop or end the crisis. For in-
stance, Caesar’s victory over the Belgae and Nervii, two of the most threat-
ening Gallic tribes, prompted the Senate to decree fifteen straight days of
supplication, a longer period than had ever been designated for such a thing
(although only a few years previously, twelve days had been decreed to
Pompey for his victories in the East). Such supplications for victory often
included other typical elements of festivals, besides the religious rituals,
such as games and theatrical performances, which was a principal reason for
extending them over more time than the old traditional one day. Further-
more, a one-time supplication might be developed into a special festival to
be held for years to come.
Technically intended to honor their gods, Roman festivals by the Late
Republic had become spectacles of dazzling technical virtuosity. They dis-
played the lavish wealth of the empire pouring into the city of Rome and
the power of its elite citizens.
See also: Games; Lupercalia; Lustrations; Religion, Roman
Further Reading
Fowler, W. W. 1908. The Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic. New York:
Macmillan and Co.
Paoli, U. E. 1963. Rome, Its People, Life and Customs. New York: McKay.
Scullard, H. H. 1981. Festivals and Ceremonies of the Roman Republic. Ithaca, NY:
343
Food and Drink
Food and Drink

From their own farms, orchards, gardens, and ranches in Italy, Romans had
access to an abundant food supply. In Caesar’s time, provinces and allied
kingdoms from Spain in the West to Egypt in the East provided even more
food for the Roman table.
Romans typically ate three meals a day. After waking in the morning, they
would take the ientaculum, breakfast, which consisted usually of bread,
sometimes dipped in wine, along with fruits (often raisins), olives, cheese,
milk, and mulsum (honeyed wine); a fuller breakfast might include eggs as
well. Just like in modern times, working men and school children pressed
for time had to take this meal on the run, sometimes stopping at bakeries
or at snack shops to pick up something to eat.
Perhaps an hour or so earlier than our modern lunch, Romans would
take theirs, the prandium. On the table, one would find bread, olives,
cheese, fruits, nuts, salads, and cold meats. Romans enjoyed home-grown
apples, pears, plums, figs, grapes, and quinces, as well as peaches, apricots,
pomegranates, cherries, and lemons imported from the Middle East. They
A thermopolium, equivalent of a modern-day cafe or bar, where hot and cold

food and drinks were sold from what was usually an L-shaped masonry counter
containing terracotta vessels. This example stands in Herculaneum, an ancient
Roman town in Italy destroyed by the volcanic eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in
79 CE. (Wessel Cirkel/Dreamstime.com)
344
Food and Drink
ate walnuts, hazelnuts, and almonds. In their salads, they favored lettuce,
cress, and mallow. Pork was the most commonly eaten meat, prepared in
dozens of different recorded ways, including in a variety of sausages. Next
to pork, Romans would have eaten lots of poultry, from chicken to duck
to goose to pigeon and many other small wild fowl, such as partridges and
thrushes, and by Caesar’s time, lots of fish and other seafood, including
tuna, anchovy, mullet, and oysters; salted and dried fish was also as popular
then as it is now in Italy, and the Romans even made fried fish balls of salted
fish, cheese, and eggs.
Farmers and shepherds out in the countryside of Italy would have an
early supper, mainly of leftovers from lunch, so as to go to bed early for
the next day’s chores. City dwellers, however, worked later in the day and
stayed up later into the evening, and so by Caesar’s time, a tradition had
developed among them of taking their dinner later. This cena was divided
into three courses, ab ovo ad mala or “from eggs to apples,” even among
the humblest urban families. After invoking the goodwill of the gods, simi-
lar to modern customs of “saying grace,” Romans commenced with the
appetizer or gustus, consisting of items like shell-fish, salted or pickled fish,
lettuce, eggs, and uncooked vegetables, especially onions, washed down
with a cup of mulsum; these were all considered light foods that would
encourage the appetite or help in digestion and were often served with
spicy dressings or dipping sauces. For the dinner proper, the cena itself,
Romans prepared more fish and vegetables, poultry and fowl, and other
meats, served in courses. The vegetables available from the Roman garden
are largely familiar, including artichokes, asparagus, beans, beets, cabbage,
carrots, cucumbers, lentils, melons, peas, pumpkins, radishes, turnips, and
leafy salad greens and onions, as already mentioned. Most of these would
be cooked by boiling or steaming. As for dinnertime meats, whether pan-
fried, boiled, or fire-roasted, the ever-popular pork was consumed by all so-
cial classes, but the poorest Romans would also eat goat flesh, adult or kid,
considered the worst of all meats, while wealthier households might supple-
ment their ham shank or bacon with mutton, hare, wild boar, or dormice,
and the wealthiest even with beef, which was usually eaten by Romans only
at religious festivals, or peacock, which Cicero said was the most prized dish
at a rich feast. After the cena proper, Roman diners paused to pay homage
and offer sacrifice (usually simple articles of food, like wine and grain) to
the Lares, the protective spirits of the household. Then, the dinner closed
with the secunda mensa or dessert, which often included preserved and
fresh fruits, especially apples (as in the saying noted earlier), nuts, honeyed
poppy seeds, and pastries, as well as lots of wine.
Dinners were not only an important part of family life in Roman society,
but they were also an essential ingredient in friendship. Not having the wide
array of nighttime activities and venues available in modern socializing,
345
Food and Drink
ORANGE JULIUS
Despite what some people might believe, the well-known beverage
consisting of vanilla, sugar, milk, ice, and, of course, orange juice,
called “Orange Julius,” has nothing to do with Julius Caesar. Its co-
creator, Los Angeles orange juice vendor Julius Freed, happened to
share a name with the famous Roman general; once he and his friend,
Bill Hamlin, began selling their new concoction back in 1929, cus-
tomers started clamoring for “an orange, Julius” (since in those days,
one referred to orange drinks generically as “an orange”). That phrase
turned into the beverage’s official name, so the story goes.
Romans invited one another regularly to dinner parties; even the poorest
Romans would, in this way, have shared with their fellows what little they
had, as well as intimate conversations, and the wealthiest would have used
such gatherings as opportunities to impress with the finest fare, furnishings,
and entertainment, and to network among their peers. As a consequence,
by custom, even the humblest dinners tended to last several hours.
Wealthier men of the aristocratic classes in Caesar’s time would extend
the dinner party even further into the night as the comissatio, compotatio,
or convivium, the Roman version of the male-only drinking party or sym-
posium adopted from Greek culture in the second century BCE. Decking
themselves out with garlands and crowns of flowers, the guests threw the
dice to determine who would serve as the rex bibendi, “drinking king” or
master of ceremonies. He would then lead the guests in drinking games
and other raucous entertainments; sometimes, the revelers would even
move from house to house, playing host each in his turn, presumably until
they simply could not consume anymore wine.
Across all their meals, the staple foods of the Roman diet were grain, ol-
ives, and grapes. For their own consumption, Romans harvested wild rye
and cultivated several varieties of barley and wheat; they raised oats only for
their livestock to eat. By Caesar’s time, the population in Italy, and espe-
cially in the city of Rome itself, had expanded to such an extent that home-
grown grain no longer sufficed to feed the millions of hungry mouths;
the Roman government and private business interests imported very large
quantities of wheat from the provinces of Sicily and North Africa, as well
as the allied Kingdom of Egypt. Wheat provided the basis for Rome’s “na-
tional dish,” a sort of porridge (puls) that might be served as part of any of
their daily meals. In addition, most bread was made of wheat, the flour and
dough prepared and baked at home in the countryside but often by profes-
sional bakers in the towns and cities of Italy in Caesar’s day.
346
Food and Drink
Romans consumed a variety of olives as fruits at almost any time of the

day; in this sense, it was their main “snack food.” They harvested the largest
olives to eat fresh or preserved; preserved olives might be salted and dried
out in the sun or jarred in boiled grape juice. They also crushed the olives,
mixing them with spices such as coriander, mint, cumin, and fennel, as well
as vinegar, to create a relish or spread. Oil, however, was the most profitable
product from the olives. Romans anointed themselves with olive oil after
bathing, lighted their homes and apartments with lamps that burned olive
oil, mixed olive oil and scents together to make perfumes, and especially
cooked with olive oil. It occupied the place that butter still has today in
American cooking (Romans regarded butter as a “barbaric” food), though,
of course, we have also adopted many of the ancient uses of olive oil (fry-
ing, food preparation, dressings, etc.) ourselves.
Grapes, like olives, were eaten in large quantities by the Romans in ei-
ther fresh or preserved form, and they drank grape juice (really more like a
cider) and ate grape jelly. Grapes also served as the basis for the ever-present
wine in the Roman diet. They actually imported more wine from Greece in
Caesar’s time than they produced themselves, but that was changing rap-
idly as more acreage in Italy was being devoted to viticulture than to grain
production. The best home-grown wines came from the regions south of
Rome, Latium, and especially Campania, where the climate and the vol-
canic soils were perfect for the grapevines. Romans, like Greeks, usually
mixed their wine with water as a sign of “civilized” living.
Seasonings also mattered much in Roman cooking. Anise, cumin, fennel,
garlic, mint, mustard, poppy seed, and spices from the Far East and Africa,
like pepper and cinnamon, were most frequently used.
Lastly, we should remember that the tremendous growth of towns in
Italy during the Late Republic, especially the city of Rome itself, which
expanded from about 250,000 inhabitants in ca. 150 BCE to close to one
million a century or so later, put huge pressure on local food supplies and
demanded even more trade for food from farther afield and greater involve-
ment of the government to prevent shortages of basic foodstuffs. Tradition-
ally, the magistrates known as aediles had had the responsibility of keeping
the supply of grain stable, including using government funds to purchase
grain, even at a loss to the treasury. Regardless of their efforts, food short-
ages, famine, and fluctuating prices for staples were quite common.
The famous Popularis plebeian tribune of the late second century BCE,
C. Gracchus, increased the state’s duty to provide food through his fru-
mentary or grain law, which mandated buying up and storing enough grain
at public expense to make monthly distributions of it to the adult males of
the Roman population; these men only had to pay a discounted price per
ration, which was added to their own diet and that of their family. It did
not, therefore, completely prevent famine, but it did help, and even more it
347
Food and Drink
helped to maintain a stable market price for grain and an emergency supply
in case of shortage. Later politicians adjusted the price up or down, accord-
ing to their particular agendas, until dictator Sulla, in 81 BCE, abolished the
practice altogether. This move proved unsustainable, given the socioeco-
nomic circumstances in Rome, especially among the poor, who fomented
riots against the government for lack of sufficient “bread,” as they would
have said in those days. In response to such popular unrest, Roman lead-
ers, even the conservative Optimate, Cato the Younger, restored the dole
of subsidized grain over the next two decades, while trying at the same time
to restrict the number of beneficiaries to contain costs and reduce sponging
off the government. Private benefactions were also important, as when M.
Licinius Crassus, the richest man in Rome in those days, fed the city popu-
lace basic staple foods for three months out of his own pocket.
The aediles continued to play the main role in making the discount food
system work. They kept registers of eligible citizens resident in Rome at
the Temple of the Nymphs, located within the Porticus Minucia in the area
known as the Campus Martius or Field of Mars on the northwestern out-
skirts of the city. Recipients would come there each month, probably using
tesserae (small discs with identifying information printed on them), to pro-
fess and prove their eligibility; an aedile or one of his assistants would then
check the list to verify the information and the tessera. The amount then
doled out was similar to army rations (perhaps five modii, which could be
turned into thirty standard loaves of bread), and therefore only a portion of
what one and one’s family would actually need to survive.
Grain shortages and other related problems continued. In 58 BCE, the
plebeian tribune Clodius, seeking a massive popular following, allocated
grain to all adult males on the lists free of charge. His lex Clodia, thereby,
actually precipitated a greater shortage. Things got so bad that in the fol-
lowing year, the Senate and People of Rome gave General Pompey the
charge of the food supply (cura annonae) with extraordinary powers across
the empire and a staff of lieutenants to guide and ensure transport of grain
to the city of Rome. In this capacity, Pompey tried to carry out a reduction
in the number of recipients in the registry, but Clodius, allegedly, destroyed
the records to prevent him from doing so (again for political reasons). Pom-
pey’s other efforts were marginally successful.
Thus, food had become a major political issue. Food riots were often
followed by senatorial action to increase the availability of grain, lower
its costs, or provide for its protection en route to Rome. The free grain
dole became a costly program, only feasible, at the time, through huge ex-
ploitation of provincial granaries. Nevertheless, by 50 BCE, the number of
eligible recipients had grown to about 400,000, nearly half the city’s pop-
ulation. As dictator about half a decade later, Caesar began to reduce the
number to around a quarter of a million. The basic problematic nexus of
348
Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris
overpopulation and availability of food continued under his successors, the

emperors, as did the traditions of subsidized and free foodstuffs to Roman
citizens.
See also: Agriculture; Cato (95–46 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Crassus
(ca. 112–53 BCE); Extraordinary commands; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum;
Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Religion, Roman; Trade
Further Reading
Giacosa, I. G. 1992. A Taste of Ancient Rome. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press.

In the last decade of his life, Caesar came up with the notion of expanding
the old Roman Forum, the overcrowded, downtown heart of the city, to
make more space available for various public activities. He chose a central
location to begin that expansion, at the northwest corner of the Forum at
the foot of the Capitoline Hill. In 54 BCE, through an intermediary (his
sometime associate Cicero), Caesar purchased a piece of that land approxi-
mately 530 feet by 250 feet; such prime real estate cost him a huge sum of
money (ancient writers record among themselves a range of figures from 60
million sesterces at the low end to 100 million at the high end). This piece
of property would eventually become the site of the Forum Iulium or Cae-
saris, that is, the Forum of Julius or of Caesar.
Three years later, construction work began. Elegant homes were de-
molished to create a rectangular courtyard enclosed on the east, west, and
south sides by a portico, a walkway covered with a vaulted ceiling of con-
crete supported by columns on both sides. Earlier examples of this sort
of architecture in Rome, such as the Porticus Metella (later known as the
Porticus Octaviae) along the Tiber River, had been inspired by elaborate,
enclosed religious precincts from the Greek world, and thus demanded the
positioning of a temple within the courtyard.
What Caesar originally intended in this regard is unknown, but in the
summer of 48 BCE, on the night before the important Battle of Pharsalus
between him and his rival Pompey, Caesar prayed to various divinities for
support, including the goddess Venus; according to an old Roman tradi-
tion, and especially popular among Caesar’s relatives and followers, the pa-
trician clan of the Julii could trace its ancestry back to Ilus or Iulus, son of
Aeneas, who, according to Greek and Roman myth, was the son of Venus.
349
Venus was, therefore, a special patron from whom to receive divine aid in
battle; if she provided him that aid, Caesar vowed, he would raise a temple
in her honor as the centerpiece of his new Forum. Located at the north end
of the courtyard by Caesar’s architects, the temple to Venus, who might be
referred to also as Genetrix (“Creator of the Family”) or Victrix (“Bringer
of Victory”), eventually stood imposingly on a high platform, fronted by
eight columns, and contained within not only a marble statue of the deity,
as was traditional inside Roman temples, but also a golden one of Cleopa-
tra, Caesar’s mistress during the last few years of his life, as well as at least
two Greek paintings purchased at great expense by Caesar.
Another model for this type of enclosed space came from the shrines
erected to pay homage to powerful rulers in the kingdoms of the Eastern
Mediterranean and Middle East; populations there often regarded such rul-
ers as divine or semi-divine, which again would fit in with Caesar’s dedi-
cation of a temple to Venus, his divine ancestress. Not surprisingly, then,
there was a statue of Caesar in the new Forum, dressed in glorious military
attire; this may have been in addition to, or part of, a statue of Caesar’s fa-
vorite war horse in the center of the courtyard; rumor said (and the artists
bore this out in their craft) that this horse had hooves cloven in five shaped
like human toes. At the time of this horse’s birth, the soothsayers took this
as an omen that its master would someday rule the world. Apparently, the
horse allowed no one else but Caesar to ride it and obeyed no one else’s
commands. Since visitors entered his new Forum through an opening in
the portico on the south end, their immediate view would have been of
these statues, the temple looming up behind them, confirming Caesar’s di-
vine parentage and his divine mandate as ruler of the empire.
Caesar intended his new forum as a place for citizens to engage in politi-
cal and judicial matters, that is, public affairs, not as a commercial center.
Therefore, various merchants, especially bankers, who were also seeking
expanded space for their activities beyond the old Forum had to establish
themselves outside, in the shops that were located behind the western side
of the portico.
Dedicated in 46 BCE at the time of his quadruple triumphal celebrations
over his various enemies, the Forum of Caesar was in fact not completed
until some years after his death by his great-nephew Octavian, Emperor
Augustus. The Forum Iulium became a showplace reflecting not so much
devotion to a patron goddess as rather the enormous loot taken in his Gal-
lic wars and the influence of one powerful human being, all enhancing Cae-
sar’s larger-than-life image. Several Roman emperors later looked back to it
as a model for similar monumental spaces erected in their honor.
See also: Capitoline Hill; Coinage/Money; Forum Romanum; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Triumphs/Trophies; Venus Genetrix
350
Forum Romanum
Further Reading
Publishing.
Books.
lishing.
versity Press.
Forum Romanum
Located in the valley eroded by the Velabrum stream between the Palatine,
Capitoline, and Esquiline Hills, the Forum Romanum or Roman Forum
served as the commercial, religious, and political heart of the city of Rome
for nearly 1,000 years. In Julius Caesar’s day, the area of the Roman Forum
was only about half the size of the zone that today’s tourists visit.
The Roman Forum had not always been such a thriving place of activ-
ity. Geological evidence reveals that the area of the Forum was originally
swampy and unhealthful, not fit for humans to live in; archaeological evi-
dence reveals that the earliest inhabitants of Rome, who established their
homes on the hills surrounding the Forum, used the swampy valley as a
burial ground. In the late seventh century BCE, the Roman population,
probably under the direction of Etruscan warlords who had come to domi-
nate the small town, drained the swampland and channeled excess water
into a great sewer (the Cloaca Maxima) that fed into the Tiber River not
far away. They then paved over the Forum valley in the following century,
making it ready for architectural development.
The Forum valley and the lower slopes of the hills surrounding it quickly
became the site of housing development, especially for mansions of the
well-to-do, and for placing of the temporary stalls and later also permanent
shops of merchants and artisans. Several streets leading into the Forum fol-
lowed the same pattern; some preserved the memory of their original users
in quaint, antique names, like the Vicus Jugarius, the Street of the Rope-
makers, others the early cultural influences on the Forum, like the Vicus
Tuscus, or Etruscan Street.
The main avenue running through the Roman Forum was the Via Sacra
or Sacred Way. In 44 BCE, if Julius Caesar, for instance, had entered the
351
Forum Romanum
The Temple of Saturn in the Forum Romanum in Rome, Italy. The picture also shows
the Arch of Septimius Severus behind the columns (to the left) as well as the Curia or
Senate House (the brick building behind), the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina
(later converted into a church, center-right), and a glimpse of the Colosseum (far
right). The Roman Forum served in ancient times as the very heart of the city in
terms of politics, trade, and religion. (Dennis Dolkens/Dreamstime.com)
Forum at its eastern end by way of the Via Sacra, he would have walked
under the first triumphal arch in Rome, the almost eighty-year-old Fornix
Fabiorum; Caesar would have sympathized with Q. Fabius Maximus, who
had dedicated this arch (very modest by later standards) to his victory over
the Allobroges, a Gallic tribe that later worked with Caesar not as enemies
but as allies of Rome. On his right, he would have passed by the Regia,
his headquarters as Pontifex Maximus or Chief Priest of the Roman public
religion, and on his left, his official residence in this capacity, the Domus
Publica; also on his left would have been the large House of the Vestal Vir-
gins, home of Rome’s most important priestesses, and the circular Tem-
ple of Vesta (restored after a fire when Caesar was seventeen years old), in
which they served. Straight ahead would have loomed the majestic Temple
of Castor and Pollux, headquarters of the chief magistrates of Rome, the
two consuls, and the location of the government’s department of official
weights and measures.
At this point, the Via Sacra split into two forks. One curved to the right,
taking our Caesar to face the imposing Basilica Aemilia; a basilica was not
a religious building but a sort of public meeting hall, developed from the
audience halls used by Greek rulers in Greece itself and the Greek colonies
of southern Italy. Dating originally to the early second century BCE, the
352
Forum Romanum
Basilica Aemilia at which Caesar would have gazed would have been the
product of multiple renovations, one, when Caesar was in his early twen-
ties, arranged by M. Aemilius Lepidus the Elder; another, when Caesar was
in his mid-forties, by Lepidus’s elder son (who actually received a sizable
sum of money for this project from Caesar at the time); and the last by Cae-
sar himself, as dictator. The final outcome was an enlarged, grand structure.
The roof shimmered in the sunlight, covered in polished bronze tiles; the
two-story facade of columns and arches along the Via Sacra concealed the
“New Shops” of the jewelers, moneychangers, and perfume sellers, which
used to stand in front of the building but had been absorbed into it by the
most recent renovations. The basilica’s main floor measured approximately
230 feet by 100 feet, divided by rows of flanking columns into a large rect-
angular hall in the center and two side aisles; the marble columns and the
marble slabs on the floor, of different colors and patterns, were imported
from around the empire, especially North Africa. All along the top of the
columns ran a sculptured frieze showing scenes from the early history of
Rome, and above them rose the clerestory, a second level of the building
(about one-half the surface area of the ground floor) consisting of a col-
umned gallery and windows.
As he continued to follow the Via Sacra along the front of the Basilica
Aemilia, Caesar would have passed by the very ancient circular shrine of
Cloacina (also called Venus Cloacina, the protecting spirit of the drainage
system in the Forum) and the equally ancient shrine of Janus (god of begin-
nings and endings), the latter shaped like a covered gateway, whose bronze
doors were always open in times of war and closed in the few times when
the Romans were at peace. The shrine of Janus stood just at the intersection
of the Via Sacra and the Argiletum, a street which led out of the Forum
northward into the Subura district of the city.
Across this intersection, Caesar would have entered the Comitium, the
circular paved meeting area in which the Romans from as early as the sixth
century BCE celebrated religious feasts and high-class funerals and especially
conducted public voting assemblies; the Comitium was thus a sacred space
or templum. With a fountain at its center and surrounded by a series of shal-
low steps, it came to be filled with statues, columns, and other monuments
significant to the history of the Roman people.
Aside from all this, Caesar would have also seen his workmen, perhaps
under the direct supervision of the famous Roman engineer Vitruvius,
constructing the new Senate House or Curia Iulia; he had reoriented the
ground plan of this building about sixty degrees from its former position.
On his left, Caesar would have seen the new Rostra, the most important
speaker’s platform in the Forum Romanum, named for the iron beaks of
enemy ships captured nearly 300 years earlier and placed on the front of
the structure; he himself redesigned and repositioned the Rostra in its new
353
Forum Romanum
location to look across the open area of the Forum toward the Regia on
the eastern side. It was here that Marc Antony would later display Caesar’s
corpse, as well as the severed tongue and right hand of the orator Cicero to
the assembled crowds.
If Caesar had turned around, with his back to the construction site of
the Curia Iulia, and had looked across the open space in the center of the
Forum, across past the ancient and sacred cluster of fig tree, olive tree, and
grapevine (supposedly thriving there since the eighth century BCE and shad-
ing together statues of the babies Romulus and Remus in their crib), past
the statue of Marsyas (a symbol of attraction for foreigners in Rome), past
the mysterious Lacus Curtius (a pond into which, according to legend, the
hero Curtius miraculously disappeared hundreds of years before), Caesar
would have seen more men hard at work at another construction site, along
the other branch of the Via Sacra on the southern side of the Forum, the
new Basilica Julia, already a decade in and still far from finished, but meant
to be even larger and grander than the Basilica Aemilia. Caesar would not
live to see either the Curia or the Basilica Julia completed.
The two forks of the Via Sacra now basically ended, coming together
to join at the foot of the Capitoline Hill, which enclosed the Forum on its
western side. On his right, Caesar would have seen the Basilica Porcia, the
first and oldest of such structures in Rome, the Carcer or prison, and the
Temple of Concord, a frequent location for meetings of the Senate, such
as famously during the Conspiracy of Catiline, and strangely reshaped with
thrusting lateral sections on both sides during its renovation over seventy
years earlier. Right nearby stood the rather small Basilica Opimia, dating to
the late second century BCE. Behind these, built into the slope of the Capi-
toline, stood the impregnable-looking state archives building, the Tabular-
ium; erected by one of Caesar’s rivals, Catulus the Younger, in 78 BCE, this
trapezoid-shaped structure filled the space between the two summits of the
Capitoline Hill and closed off the Forum Romanum on this side. Its first
level contained the strong rooms constructed of volcanic tufa stone, where
the archives were kept; the second level housed offices and meeting rooms.
The back entrance, a set of stairs to the second level, rose up from the
Forum, while the main entrance was on the opposite side of the building.
Thus, the side facing the Forum was actually the rear of the Tabularium,
faced by arches and engaged Doric columns on the bottom level and Ionic
columns along an open arcade on the top level from which to view events in
the Forum. Later Roman architects imitated this symmetrical and theatrical
back side, especially in the construction of the famous Colosseum.
Finally, as the Via Sacra began its climb up the slope of the Capitoline
(the Clivus Capitolinus), Caesar’s last sight in the Forum would have been
of the Temple of Saturn, its tall foundation platform alone twice Caesar’s
height. Heart of the important Saturnalia festival every December, this site
354
Forum Romanum
had been sacred to the Romans from very early times. Moreover, the lower-
level rooms housed the State treasury, where Caesar worked when he had
served as quaestor in 69 BCE; the Roman government posted laws on the
outside walls of the lower level; magistrates’ assistants received their assign-
ments here, and births of Roman babies were registered here as well.
See also: Basilica Julia; Capitoline Hill; Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE);
Curia; Divus Iulius; Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris; Lepidus the Elder
(d. 77 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Popular Assemblies; Regia;
Senate; Subura; Temple of Castor and Pollux; Vestal Virgins
Further Reading
Books.
versity Press.
Funerals. See Mourning/Funerals
355
G
Games
Games
During Roman religious festivals and funerals, it became common to dis-
play human competition and physical achievement in honor of the gods.
Certainly, the older traditions of the ancient Greeks had some considerable
influence in this. In the Late Republic, between fifty and seventy days of the
year were devoted to such displays. Some were referred to as ludi, such as
the ludi circenses, the “games of the circus”; others, such as the gladiatorial
contests, were called munera, “burdens” or “duties”; still others involved
the slaughter of animals from around the empire and were thus called ve-
nationes or “hunts.” Today’s students of Roman history refer to all these
generally as games.
A great variety of circus activities thrilled audiences: displays of eques-
trian skill, like standing or lying on moving horses, guiding two at a time,
jumping and other acrobatics, the more famous horse racing, and of course,
chariot racing. The Roman fascination with horses, and their skill at train-
ing them for such events, goes far back into their history; long before the
foot soldiers of the Roman legions dominated the Mediterranean world,
Roman cavalry held first place in their society as well as their military struc-
ture. Over the centuries of the Republic, the Romans may have deferred to
other allies and subject populations to provide horsemen for war, but they
never gave up the tradition of putting horsemanship on display.
From at least the fifth century BCE onward, Romans staged a horse race
in honor of the war god, Mars, on the Ides (15th) of October; it took place
on the Campus Martius, the “Field of Mars,” where Romans for genera-
tions practiced for combat, just outside the sacred boundary of the city. At
the close of the competition, the weakest horse from the winning team (this
was the so-called equus October or October horse) was sacrificed to Mars,
beheaded, and its head then fought over (in unspecified fashion) as a prize
between the Sacravienses (the more prosperous citizens residing on the Pal-
atine Hill and around the edges of the Roman Forum, through which the
Via Sacra or Sacred Way ran) and the Suburani (the poorer citizens resid-
ing in the Subura district north-east of the Forum). So, a race that prob-
ably began as a display of the prowess of the very best Roman cavalrymen,
before the eyes of their god and their fellow citizens, evolved into an annual
entertainment not only celebrating martial skill and religious devotion but
also releasing tensions between the social classes.
The most long-lasting and spectacular horse races were those that origi-
nated, according to tradition, from the ancient kings of Rome; they used
the Murcia valley between the Palatine and Aventine hills as the course
(circus). Archaeological investigation reveals a track in that location as
early as the sixth century BCE; in the second century BCE, Roman officials
replaced the old wooden seating and track markers with stone structures.
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Games
Detail of Circus Games from a Roman mosaic showing amphitheater scenes,

Leptis Magna (near Tripoli, Libya). This panel focuses on the venationes or beast
hunts, extremely popular across the Roman world in Caesar's time and beyond.
(Roger Wood/Corbis)
Using models from the Greek world, Julius Caesar began the ultimate de-
sign, enhanced in later times by various Roman Emperors, for this Circus
Maximus (“Grandest Circus”). He lengthened the old track in both direc-
tions so that it reached approximately 2,000 feet and enclosed it on three
sides by a canal (probably having both religious and practical functions)
ten feet wide and ten feet deep; the width of the track was approximately
400 feet. The structure around this barrier consisted of the lower seating
areas of stone and the upper levels of wood for standing room, all of which
could accommodate close to 150,000 spectators; as seen from the out-
side, the seating backed up against two long porticoes joined together at
one end by a semicircular portico, all made of stone at the first story; the
standing room was provided by the two upper stories of these porticoes,
both made of wood. Spectators entered through multiple points around
the first level. The starting gates for the horses and chariots sealed off the
open end of the Circus.
Caesar probably did not live long enough to see the Circus Maximus
fully revamped, since he began the project some time during the Civil War
with Pompey, that is, not long before his own death. Still, he made much
use of the Circus, funding races there that included some young men of the
aristocracy driving two-horse and four-horse chariots, while others put on
a show of their skill at jumping from horse to horse and performing similar
acrobatic feats.
Though horse events always dominated the calendar of the Circus Maxi-
mus, Romans had long used it for other sorts of spectacles as well. During
one of his triumphal celebrations, for example, Caesar staged a mock battle
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Games
in the Circus in which 1,000 foot soldiers, 60 cavalry, and 40 war elephants,
participated; to make room for their maneuvers, he had the barrier down
the middle of the racetrack removed.
During the Republic, private individuals staged the munera, featuring
gladiators, though with government approval (primarily consent of the ae-
diles, the elected officials concerned with public order and safety) if such
events took place within the city or its environs and especially if they in-
volved many fighters. The staged fighting of pairs of men to the death ap-
parently originated among the Etruscans (an ancient people who lived in
what is today the Italian region of Tuscany) as part of their funeral rituals
honoring deceased warriors, a sort of formalized human sacrifice to what
the Romans would have called the Di Manes, the ancestral ghosts. Later,
these contests were picked up by the Samnites and other Oscan-speaking
communities of the Apennine mountain range in central and southern
Italy, evidently becoming quite popular. Perhaps from these populations,
with whom Rome waged fierce wars in the third century BCE, the Romans
imported gladiators into their own culture. The purpose was still to honor
the dead; the first recorded gladiator contest in Rome was staged by the
family of D. Iunius Pera at his funeral in 264 BCE; three pairs fought to the
death.
Some gladiators were free volunteers who bound themselves to an owner
in exchange for a form of payment; in Caesar’s day, some were even mem-
bers of the Roman aristocracy (e.g., Furius Leptinus and Quintus Calpenus).
Most, however, were prisoners of war, slaves, or condemned criminals, who
tried desperately to stay alive in the contest’s last-chance conditions. They
were trained in schools of armatura by a lanista (often a former gladiator
himself), who hired them out for a fee or sold them off to other promoters.
Gladiators developed specialized skills, such as the Samnite, who fought
with short sword, visored helmet, oblong shield and body armor, the Thra-
cian, who carried a round shield and scimitar, or the Retiarius, whose light
armor was supplemented by a long trident and a net. Both like and unlike
pairs were matched.
Until the time of Julius Caesar, gladiator contests were always privately
funded for the funerals of male relatives. Yet, something had changed.
Office-seeking or office-holding members of the Roman elite put on in-
creasingly public displays of increasing numbers of gladiators conspicuously
close to election time, though ostensibly still in honor of their dead, as a
means of garnering popular attention and support; they frequently bank-
rupted themselves, or came close, to do this. Gladiator contests had be-
come mass entertainment; they now required senatorial sanction and often
involved public funds as well as private.
When it came to gladiatorial spectacle, Caesar raised the bar higher
than anyone else during the Republic. As aedile (the elected official chiefly
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Games
responsible for staging games) in 65 BCE, he gathered so many gladiators

that his opponents in the Senate feared what else he might use them for,
aside from the games; the Senate decreed a limit on the number of gladi-
ators anyone might have at one time in the city, thus forcing Caesar to
send many of his away and to reduce the scale of his planned contests.
Nevertheless, 320 pairs of contestants fought to the death to make Cae-
sar famous among the people. He made up for the Senate’s interference
nearly two decades later, in 46 BCE when, as dictator, he intended to stage
a competition so massive that he ordered the forcible rescue of gladiators
who lost in previous contests and the training of as many new gladiators
as possible, even by expert swordsmen in the equestrian and senatorial
orders. Supposedly, all this was in memory of his daughter Julia, who
had died eight years earlier; this seemed traditional enough, since gladi-
ators and funeral ceremonies went together. In reality, though, it was all
part of Caesar’s self-glorification during his own quadruple triumphal
celebration.
If Caesar staged this gladiatorial show all in one place, he probably did
so in the Circus Maximus; as aedile, he had put on such spectacles in the
Forum Romanum. The Forum had been, and continued to be in his time,
the main venue in Rome for such blood sports. Crowds of people would
have surrounded the open space at the center of the Forum, standing at
street level, on the steps of public buildings and temples, in the balconies
and window galleries of the basilicae (town halls). Stone amphitheaters
existed, in other towns, like Pompeii and Capua, but the Roman gov-
ernment refused to permit such permanent structures for munera in the
capital, despite their popularity, until fifteen years after Caesar’s death.
(Construction of the Colosseum did not take place until over a hundred
years after that.)
Games also included the pitting of humans against animals or animals
against animals. Such venationes or beast hunts had become popular in
Rome from the early second century BCE. Once again, the themes were man
conquering nature or the brutal realities of survival in the natural world.
Venationes might be staged in open areas, as the gladiator events were, but
with wooden enclosures to ensure that the wild animals did not break lose.
Caesar apparently held the venationes during his triumphal celebrations in
this way, constructing a wooden arena in the Campus Martius for the pur-
pose; spectators watched the slaughter for five days straight. The most pop-
ular venue, though, was again the Circus Maximus. About a decade earlier,
in 55 BCE, Caesar’s rival, Pompey, set the standard to beat when he com-
memorated the completion of his new theater complex with, among other
things, five days of venationes; 600 lions and 400 leopards were slaugh-
tered, and 18 Indian elephants, who, driven by pain, almost stampeded into
the crowd before they died.
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Games
In addition to these more standard games, Romans might be treated to

athletic competitions in Greek fashion or even to mock naval battles; Cae-
sar introduced this latter spectacle into the Roman repertoire. In a marshy
portion of the Campus Martius near the Tiber River, he had an artificial
lake dug large enough to accommodate full-size ships of Egyptian and Tyr-
ian design, manned with 6,000 fighting crews and rowers; around the lake,
wooden grandstands gave onlookers an unimpeded view of the choreo-
graphed battle “at sea.”
Romans flocked to the games in huge numbers; crowd control could
become so difficult at times that, for example, during Caesar’s triumphal
celebrations, spectators lost their lives, trampled to death by others. Few
Romans had anything negative to say about all this. Caesar’s contempo-
rary, the orator Cicero, for example, may have spoken against the cruelty
of the gladiator games in private letters and conversations, but he still re-
garded them as a useful means of disposing of undesirables in Roman so-
ciety. In the Late Republic, most citizens had personal familiarity with war
and death; to make a display of it for the gods and as a reinforcement of
certain societal values, such as survival of the fittest, seemed simply normal
to most Romans.
Though private businessmen provided the logistics and the participants for
most of these games, the Roman State provided the venues and kept tight
control on what these businessmen could offer there. No businessman or
consortium of businessmen would ever have dreamed of building their own
stadium (these were always owned by the government), or of putting on large-
scale races or gladiator combats without the state’s approval. In other words,
“spectator sports” in the Roman world, as we might refer to the games using
modern parlance, was certainly not a private enterprise in the sense it is today.
Instead, we might think of the Roman games in terms of the concerts and
other memorial celebrations our government puts on at special occasions,
such as the Fourth of July; government officials determine the program and
hire the participants or performers. The result is a stage-managed production,
which the spectators thoroughly enjoy, but which also serves to communicate
to them particular messages from their leaders. The additional Roman twist
to this was that such leaders, by the end of the Republic, were not necessar-
ily communicating messages about the state but about themselves; their own
achievements, ambitions, and position within the state had become so great
that they towered above the other members of the Roman aristocracy. Men
such as Pompey and Caesar employed the games to display this superiority
and to enhance what we would call the cult status of their personalities.
See also: Campus Martius; Debt Laws/Loans; Festivals; Forum Romanum;
Julia (d. 54 BCE); Mourning/Funerals; Religion, Roman; Subura; Theater
of Pompey; Triumphs/Trophies
363
Gangs
Further Reading
Auguet, R. 1994. Cruelty and Civilization: The Roman Games. London and New
York: Routledge.
Ltd.
Futrell, A. 1997. Blood in the Arena: The Spectacle of Roman Power. Austin: Uni-
versity of Texas Press.
Harris, H. A. 1972. Sport in Greece and Rome. London: Thames and Hudson.
Humphrey, J. H. 1986. Roman Circuses. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press.
lishing.
Publishing.
Gangs
Physical force, intimidation, and violence were always accepted features
of life in Roman society, under the right circumstances; a familiar Latin
phrase, vim vi repellere licet, “it is allowed to repel force with force,” ex-
pressed a fundamental principle of Roman law that was still considered an
absolute right in the Late Republic. But in that period, violence took a new
form with the formation of political gangs; these were not organizations
or groups dedicated to crime for simple profit or mischief, as today’s gangs
usually are, but rather were created to influence and place pressure on the
political system of Rome in the interests of particular Roman politicians.
The rather lax attitude Roman society and law took toward acts of physi-
cal force, intimidation, and violence allowed these gangs to come into exis-
tence and to flourish, especially in the lifetime of Julius Caesar.
Roman society sanctioned the physical force (coercitio) exercised by con-
suls and praetors, the magistrates with imperium. Yet, it also sanctioned the
intercessory powers of the plebeian tribunes, which ultimately derived from
Roman concepts of individual self-help (auxilium and provocatio) against
such force. Roman law, indeed, accepted, and formal legal procedures pre-
scribed, that citizens employ self-help to address many crimes committed
against them; throughout the period of the Republic, no need was seen of
a police force or public prosecutor to handle such matters for the citizens.
364
Gangs
Under such cultural and social circumstances, a citizen was permitted to

kill a robber with impunity if the latter entered the citizen’s home armed or
at night. Even in the Late Republic, when a system of criminal courts was
fairly well established, most criminals were expected to be hauled in to one
of those courts by citizen’s arrest. Seizing a debtor or a debtor’s assets was
permitted to the creditor; a convicted criminal was often handed over for
punishment to his victim (if a male citizen) or to his victim’s male relatives
(if a female citizen). Private acts of cruelty to those who had wronged you
in some way were only censured under very specific circumstances.
One’s personal reasons for committing violence or murder might be jus-
tified by branding one’s opponent a hostis, a public enemy, no longer part
of the community, devoid of the rights of citizens. Any citizen might kill
with impunity someone who violated a tribune of the plebs. Tyrannicide
was regarded as the moral responsibility of every private citizen. Down to
the end of the Republic, then, private action was the foundation of the civil
and criminal justice systems. Physical force employed for self-help went be-
yond self-defense in an emergency situation.
Such forceful self-help turned into large-scale political violence in the
second century BCE when a group of senators determined to end the life of
one of their own, T. Sempronius Gracchus, a radical tribune of the plebs,
by beating him to death on the Capitoline Hill; many of his supporters
met a similar fate. Again, such violence, the Latin word for which was vis,
could be interpreted as legal (which was how these senators saw it) or illegal
(which was how their opponents viewed their act).
The first serious instigator of violence for political gain, though, was
L. Appuleius Saturninus, tribune of the plebs in 103, 100, and again in
99 BCE, who helped pass legislation for the famous general Marius to re-
ward the latter’s veterans with grants of land. A few years earlier, Saturni-
nus had been removed by the Senate from his post as quaestor in charge
of the grain supply at Ostia, the port of Rome; when he became tribune,
he sought revenge for this dishonor, which he achieved by engaging in fre-
quent confrontations with the Senate, supposedly on behalf of the common
people. He deployed armed gangs, consisting mainly of Marius’s landless,
property-less, needy, determined veterans, against his opponents, no mat-
ter of which class. This is not to say that soldiers had never before had an
influence on political events; after all, soldiers and voters were one and
the same. But the new relationship between generals and troops forged by
Marius and Saturninus marked the entry of the army into politics in Rome
on a dangerous level.
This generated riots in the Popular Assembly against Saturninus’s pro-
posals, and his re-elections to the tribunate, but such resistance was met
with further intimidation on the part of his gangsters. Famously, one of
his allies, a politician named Glaucia, when prevented from standing for
365
Gangs
the consulship, resorted to violence against his chief opponent, who was
murdered in the melee. The Senate declared its ultimate emergency de-
cree against Saturninus and his followers, empowering the consul Marius to
end the chaos of this gang activity. Marius laid siege to the Capitoline Hill,
where Saturninus and his fellows had fled for refuge, and promised them
safe conduct to the Senate House if they surrendered. Yet, an angry mob
rushed the building, tore open the roof, and used the broken tiles to pom-
mel Saturninus and his comrades to death. His life thus ended in violence,
just as his career had been founded upon it, and the angry mob justified
their action by appealing to the custom of self-help.
After the Social War (91–87 BCE) and the subsequent Civil War
(84–82 BCE), dictator Sulla tried to curb political violence through legisla-
tion. He had been a victim of such violence as consul in 88 BCE, when an
armed band of men working for the plebeian tribune, P. Sulpicius Rufus,
fomented a riot that eventually forced Sulla and his colleague to flee Rome.
His treason law certainly covered violent acts against members of the ruling
class, while his law against murderers and poisoners called for the official
investigation of cases of homicide and even the carrying of weapons with
felonious intent, and his law against injury provided protection from as-
sault not only on persons and property but also on reputation. Three years
later, the consul Q. Lutatius Catulus, in response to the coup attempted by
his colleague, M. Aemilius Lepidus, extended the provisions of the treason
code to all citizens and included armed attack by citizens on the Senate
and magistrates, occupation of public places, and public display of weapons
with aggressive or homicidal intent; another of Catulus’s laws established a
standing court to hear cases (even on holidays) of violence.
Yet, more gang violence followed in later decades, revolving around elec-
tions, trials, and various legislative maneuvers. Most of it was not sponta-
neous. Roman leaders employed the urban masses in their competition for
power as a sort of outgrowth of patron–client relationships in a fierce compet-
itive atmosphere. Outbursts were carefully staged to coincide with the pres-
ence of certain persons or the announcements of certain decisions or policies.
This was not grassroots popular unrest over living conditions or economic
distress but political intimidation and chaos orchestrated by rival aristocrats.
Laws to suppress such violence continued to be enacted, some of them,
like the senatorial decree of 64 BCE, designed to crack down on, and in fact
ban, dangerous associations. These collegiae or sodalitates, as they were
known, were usually religious, burial, trade, or social clubs. By the Late
Republic, many were primarily composed of former slaves and attached to
particular Roman leaders, often their former masters or patrons. Such men
also kept bands of gladiators, whom they claimed were around just for en-
tertainment purposes. But all such groups of devoted, tough men could
be powerful instruments of intimidation in the political and legal arena.
366
Gangs
One aristocrat who certainly perceived how these associations could

serve as a recruiting ground and a means of organizing support and vio-
lent demonstrations was P. Clodius Pulcher, the henchman of the Tri-
umvirate formed by Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus. Clodius became the
chief instigator of gang violence in the 50s BCE. As tribune of the plebs
in 58 BCE, he enacted a law restoring the disbanded associations and au-
thorizing new ones. He acquired broad popular support for his actions
in this way and utilized his new gangs in the service of the Triumvirate’s
objectives and his own personal scores. His rivals, such as the plebeian
tribunes Milo and Sestius, claiming to defend the interests of the Senate,
formed their own gangs in opposition. Both sides used the same meth-
ods, quite traditional, though on an unprecedented scale: throwing stones
at and whipping opponents, burning private property (especially front
doors), heckling and loud reproaches, and, of course, dagger thrusts and
fist fighting.
By 56 BCE, the Senate once again decreed the disbanding of all associa-
tions under a general charge of vis. None of the Popular Assemblies, how-
ever, would enact a law to back up this decree. Encouraged by Caesar,
Clodius employed his gangsters to make sure that Pompey and Crassus
won the consular elections for 55 BCE. Crassus paid lip service to those sen-
ators who railed against this by putting forward a law that did not ban the
associations but did declare certain of their activities illegal; it still permitted
many practices, however, including “solicitation” of votes.
The Senate feared declaring a state of emergency, as it had in the past,
since that would entrust extraordinary powers to magistrates who at the
time were generally on the side of the Triumvirs anyway. Without such
emergency powers, the magistrates had only their handful of bodyguards
and assistants, insufficient to handle such large-scale violence. Eventually,
though, the Senate had to give in: the gangs of Milo and Clodius caused
too much havoc, especially blocking and harassing voters and thus prevent-
ing or delaying elections for nearly three years, until, in 52 BCE, a confron-
tation between the gangs outside Rome ended in Clodius’s death. News of
this sparked riots in the city and Clodius’s friends built him a funeral pyre
inside the Senate House, burning it down with him. Finally, the Senate
called upon Pompey to restore order as sole consul; he brought his army
into the city of Rome, tried and convicted Milo for the murder of Clodius,
and pacified the populace through new laws to curb violence, backed up by
threat of military force.
Stability and order remained through the outbreak of Civil War between
Pompey and Caesar in 49 BCE; during the Civil War, Caesar maintained
pretty firm control of the population in Rome as dictator and through his
deputies. Even so, he also felt the need to enact new laws to reduce the
threat of gang violence, again by banning most collegia and sodalitates.
367
Gardens
Only the oldest craft guilds and certain religious organizations were per-
mitted.
The troubles caused by private associations during the Republic engen-
dered official distrust during the rule of the emperors. From Augustus on-
ward, Imperial legislation limited people’s opportunities to associate freely
(hence the inspiration for our opposing right to free assembly) and the cre-
ation of police forces, like the urban cohorts in Rome, aimed at the swift
crushing of gang violence when it happened.
See also: Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Courts; Dictator; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Milo (d. 48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE);
Populares; Senatus Consulta Ultimum (SCU); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE);
Triumvirate
Further Reading
Lintott, A. W. 1968. Violence in the Roman Republic. Oxford, UK: Oxford
University Press.
sity Press.
Gardens
By the Late Republic, very wealthy Romans bought large tracts of land on
Rome’s outskirts and created elaborate private gardens called horti. Two of
Caesar’s contemporaries, Lucullus and Sallust, owned the most famous of
these gardens, and Caesar, also, had such property.
Romans adored gardens. Those who could afford to live in a house in-
stead of an apartment made sure to designate whatever space they could
for an open-air garden known as a peristyle (we might think of it as a fully
enclosed backyard); in this area, they planted shrubs, flowers, and fruit-
bearing trees, and they decorated it with benches, fountains, and various
artwork. By Caesar’s day, they were even having artists paint the walls of
interior rooms with landscape scenes that evoked garden settings, bringing
the lovely outdoors indoors, or, similarly, the interior walls of the peristyle
to create the illusion that their garden extended farther than in actual fact.
As the population of Rome expanded over the generations and the city
became more and more overcrowded, the wealthy looked for ways to es-
cape the hustle and bustle there. Of course, they could retreat into their
spacious townhomes or go out into the distant countryside to their villas.
In the last century of the Republic, however, a number of them chose to
buy up small properties just on the outskirts of the city and combine and
develop these into garden estates or horti; in this way, they could still be
368
Gardens
Courtyard of the House of the Vettii in Pompeii, first century CE. The house
belonged to two successful freedmen who renovated it just prior to the eruption of
Mount Vesuvius in 79 CE. Today’s garden peristyle is an approximate replica of the
one the Vettii enjoyed, with its sculptured decorations and plants (determined
through analysis of actual remains and seeds preserved by the volcanic mud flows).
(Atlantide Phototravel/Corbis)
close enough to Rome to participate rapidly in its political, religious, and

social life, yet be far enough to enjoy a pleasant, park-like atmosphere, pri-
vate for themselves, their families, and their friends.
Such garden estates consisted typically of a mansion, often larger than
the townhome of the owner, decorated with painted walls and mosaic
floors, and flanked by numbers of terraces, patios, and balconies to increase
the viewing options of the residents and their guests and to provide places
for open-air dining and other forms of entertainment. Thus, whereas a
typical house in the city was an enclosed unit, the garden home opened
out to the world. Paved pathways, perhaps bordered by carefully trimmed
shrubbery or shade trees or flanked by columns, or even covered by colon-
nades, would stretch out from the mansion in multiple directions, leading
the visitor to the main points of interest in the gardens, such as statues and
other works of art, elaborate fountains and artificial streams (both gravity-
driven, the Romans being very clever about such things), and man-made
ponds or even lakes. Throughout the hortus, Roman gardeners (topiarii)
planted evergreens, plane and pine trees, roses, violets, lilies, rosemary,
369
Gardens
The garden peristyle of the House of Venus in Pompeii. The walls preserve the red
painted stucco of the region, famous even in Caesar's time, as well as ancient fresco
paintings, including one of Venus on a seashell (concealed here by shrubs), for which
the house is named. (Alexandre Fagundes De Fagundes/Corbis)
boxwood, myrtle, and ivy, and a wide variety of fruit trees and grapevines.
The Roman landscape architects laid out these elements, natural and man-
made, in unique designs to maximize visual enjoyment and create a sense
of calm serenity.
The gardens of L. Licinius Lucullus, for example, were famous for their
fishponds, where he bred all sorts of exotic species for his grand banquets
and for display. One of the leading Optimates in Rome, and, therefore, a
political opponent of Caesar, Lucullus eventually retired to his garden es-
tate in the early 50s BCE as an escape from politics. Yet, his gardens flanked
the Via Flaminia, the important road leading out of Rome to the north,
so he was never completely cut off from the historic goings-on in the city
at that time.
Both Lucullus and C. Sallustius Crispus (or Sallust) had acquired their
fortunes in the provinces (the former from legitimate spoils of war, the lat-
ter, allegedly, through less reputable means), and both pumped much of
this wealth into their gardens. Sallust’s gardens were the bigger of the two,
covering a large swath of land at the edge of the Quirinal Hill, just beyond
the city’s northeastern walls, property owned by his friend and commander,
370
Gardens
CAESAR SALAD
This now-common American salad, consisting of romaine lettuce,
eggs, Parmesan cheese, olive oil, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, and vin-
egar, has nothing to do with Julius Caesar. The name derives either
from that of its creator (if one accepts that Cesare Cardini, a San
Diego restaurateur, invented the dish in the early 1920s) or, less likely,
from the passion for the memory of Julius Caesar held by other Italian
American chefs who claim credit for the salad.
Caesar, before the latter’s death. Yet, those of Lucullus maintained a repu-
tation as the most lavish, with their precious artworks, collected by him
with considerable effort and at great expense, elaborate bathing facilities
and dining rooms (including one named after the god Apollo), and fatten-
ing coops for fowl of all kinds.
In the last version of his will, which his friend and lieutenant, Marc Ant-
ony, shared with the assembled crowds in the Forum Romanum during
his funeral ceremony, Julius Caesar bequeathed to the entire population of
Rome his garden estate on the western side of the Tiber River. This was lo-
cated just south of what the ancient Romans called Transtiberim and what
modern Romans call Trastevere, beautifully laid out between the river and
the hills beyond. He hoped that the people would use the lovely spaces of
the horti Caesaris as a recreation park.
Most of the best garden estates of the Republic eventually became prop-
erty of the emperors of Rome, though some continued in the hands of other
wealthy families. After the collapse of the Roman Empire in the West in the
fifth century CE, the custom of horti fell out of use, primarily for practi-
cal, financial reasons, until the Renaissance era witnessed a revival. By the
eighteenth century, a number of the ancient horti had been reestablished
in even grander style, so that, today, one can tour the Pincio Gardens and
the vast Villa Borghese along the northern edge of Rome, where Lucullus,
Sallust, and others once had their estates, or take a trip to the small town of
Tivoli, twenty miles east of Rome, where the powerful D’Este family cre-
ated a villa and gardens modeled on that of the Emperor Hadrian’s, com-
plete with fountains and artificial rivers, still functioning today.
As well-to-do Europeans developed the habit (especially from the eigh-
teenth century) of traveling to Rome (and other ancient sites in Italy)
as tourists to view classical ruins, they learned more and more about the
gardens that had once beautified those ancient landscapes and about the
gardens that the contemporary inhabitants of the region, like the D’Este
371
Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina
and Borghese, had recreated on the ancient models. From Italy, the craze
spread through the elite of Europe to have such gardens for themselves in
their home countries. Roman horti have served as inspiration for landscape
architects ever since.
See also: Agriculture; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Food and
Drink; Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Recreation; Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE)
Further Reading
Clarke, J. R. 1991. The Houses of Roman Italy, 100 B.C.–A.D. 250. Berkeley and Los
MacDougall, E. B. 1987. Ancient Roman Villa Gardens. Washington, DC:
Dumbarton Oaks.
MacDougall, E. B., W. F. and Jashemski. 1981. Ancient Roman Gardens. Washing-
ton, DC: Dumbarton Oaks.
Stambaugh, J. E. 1988. The Ancient Roman City. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
University Press.
White, K. D. 1984. Greek and Roman Technology. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University
Press.

When Julius Caesar was consul in 59 BCE, the Senate had decided that in the
following year he and his colleague should have as provinces the forests and
cattle roads of Italy. But Caesar wanted more, a springboard from which
he might gain wealth and military glory; his henchman and tribune of the
plebs, P. Vatinius, proposed a law giving Caesar an extraordinary command:
the provinces of Cisalpine Gaul and Illyricum with control of three legions
for a five-year term. The Popular Assembly passed the proposal, and the
Senate acquiesced under threat from Caesar’s associates, especially Pompey.
Cisalpine Gaul (“Gaul on this side of the Alps”) corresponds approx-
imately to northernmost Italy today, the modern regions of Piedmont,
Liguria, Lombardy, Trentino, Veneto, Friuli-Venezia-Giulia, and Emilia-
Romagna. In Caesar’s day, this territory was primarily inhabited by the
descendants of Celtic populations (whom Romans referred to as Galli or
Gauls in English) who had crossed the Alps from central and western Eu-
rope, as far back as the sixth century BCE, just one part of a huge migra-
tion of tribes that brought Celts to settle as far north and west as Ireland
and as far east as Turkey. The Celts gradually spread across the vast plains
of northern Italy in wave after wave of separate tribes (Insubres, Ceno-
mani, Libui, Salui, Boii, Lingones, and Senones), and soon came under the
372
influence of two more advanced cultures, through warfare with the Etrus-
cans (who controlled Tuscany to the south) and through trade with the
Greeks (whose contacts spanned around and across the Italian Peninsula).
This created a sort of hybrid culture in Cisalpine Gaul. The tribesmen set-
tled down to farm the land and raise cattle; they brought with them vast
skills at metalworking, as in all Celtic culture. The tribes competed with
one another for resources and, even within the tribes, different clans tried
to gain the advantage.
Within 200 years, the Cisalpine Gauls had overrun the Etruscan territo-
ries and appeared poised to raid the rest of Italy to the south. By that time,
Rome was on the rise, having formed a web of alliances through diplomacy
and conquest with most peoples of central Italy. In the very early fourth
century BCE, these communities weathered an onslaught of Gallic warriors,
who, according to Roman authors, were tall, blond, and blue-eyed, fero-
ciously brave, often reckless, and fought naked to the waist (though some
wore chainmail shirts), armed only with long, flat-headed swords and wick-
erwork shields; archaeology has revealed the rich graves of such warriors.
The raiders made it as far south as Rome, sacked the city, and evacuated it
only after seven months of squatting, having been paid off by Roman au-
thorities.
Generals of the Republic determined to bring Cisalpine Gaul under
Roman rule from that time on, and it took fearsome warfare and massacres
down through the early second century BCE to do so. The surviving Gallic
tribes became part of a network of alliances through treaties with Rome;
their warriors agreed to serve as military auxiliaries to the Roman legions.
In addition, to guarantee peace and to guard the region against invasions
of Gauls from beyond the Alps, the Romans settled veteran colonies in
the area, and individual soldier-farmers, and linked them together and to
Rome by way of military roads (at least seven of them), especially the Via
Aemilia.
By Caesar’s time, the Senate maintained a garrison of two or three le-
gions in Cisalpine Gaul to guard the Alpine passes and watch the Gallic
population, most of whom lived north of the Padus (modern Po) River.
In other words, the Roman government treated Cisalpine Gaul not as part
of Italy but as a province. Nonetheless, the hottest issue of the region was
really no longer uprising or invasion, as it had been in the past and would
be again under emperors later on, but rather extension of citizenship. After
the Social War of 91–87 BCE, when Rome’s allies in the rest of Italy fought
for and attained full Roman citizenship, the populations of Cisalpine Gaul
were excluded, except for the colonists settled there by Rome. The Gallic
communities received only partial citizen rights, specifically the rights to
trade and marry freely with Roman citizens; they could achieve full rights
only by relocating to the city of Rome itself. They resented this treatment
373
Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina
since they had served Rome as loyal allies without incident, by that time,
for over a hundred years.
Certainly, long-held grudges and prejudices against the Cisalpine Gauls
as “invaders” and “barbarians” factored into the Senate’s decision, despite
the long process of Romanization of their language and customs that had
clearly taken place. When Caesar’s future associates, Pompey and Crassus,
arranged for the election of censors in 70–69 BCE, however, those magis-
trates officially enrolled the Cispadane Gauls as full Roman citizens, despite
the opposition of more conservative voices in the Roman government;
these Gauls, living south of the Po River, had the experience of greater ac-
culturation to Roman ways because of closer proximity and more frequent
interaction with Roman citizens. In addition, they had attained quite a bit
of prosperity from agriculture; such new citizens would make beneficial cli-
ents to their new Roman patrons.
Crassus followed this first step a few years after, when, as censor himself
in 65 BCE, he pushed for the extension of the same privilege of citizen-
ship to the Transpadane Gauls, the vast majority of the Gallic popula-
tion which lived north of the Po River; but Crassus’s colleague did not
support the proposal, so it failed. In the wake of this, Caesar, who had
backed Crassus’s idea, became governor of the region, as noted above.
He recruited fresh forces for his campaigns beyond the Alps from the
Cisalpine populations, both Roman and Gallic; he and many of his sol-
diers often spent the winter months south of the Alps, during which time
they would recuperate and gather supplies, while Caesar would tour the
towns, conduct his provincial court, and meet with other politicians to
keep abreast of developments in Rome. The people of Cisalpine Gaul,
then, did Caesar great service during his provincial governorship, and he
repaid those not yet enfranchised with full Roman citizenship when he
became dictator in 49 BCE.
See also: Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Citizenship; Extraordinary Commands;
Gaul/Gallia Comata; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Provinces; Vatinius
Further Reading
Barfield, L. 1971. Northern Italy before Rome. New York: Praeger Publishers.

When the plebeian tribune P. Vatinius brought before the Popular Assem-
bly a proposal that Julius Caesar be assigned the provinces of Illyricum and
374
Cisalpine Gaul, this was already a far-stretched proposal from what Caesar’s
opponents in the Senate wanted to stick him with. Few could have imag-
ined that in a very short time afterward, Pompey, one of the most power-
ful senators and one of Caesar’s closest associates, would recommend that
Caesar also simultaneously receive command over the province of Transal-
pine Gaul. The man assigned as its governor, Q. Caecilius Metellus Celer,
an opponent of Pompey and Caesar for personal and other reasons, had
passed away recently, having not even had the chance to take up his post.
This totally unexpected turn of events gave Pompey a chance, however, to
do a very special favor for Caesar. The passage of Pompey’s recommenda-
tion meant that Caesar would have even more opportunities for building
up military glory and reputation than he had hoped for and, ironically, the
Denarius depicting a Gallic charioteer, from the war between Roman armies and
the Gauls led by Bituitus of the Arverni. Struck at Narbonne, France, ca. 118 BCE.
This became a model for a later issue of coins by supporters of Julius Caesar in
commemoration of his campaigns in Gaul. (Werner Forman/Universal Images
Group/Getty Images)
375
opportunity to build up the strength in resources and manpower needed to

challenge Pompey for the position as first man in Rome.
Romans might refer to the entire territory that stretched from the Alps
to the English Channel as Transalpine Gaul (Gallia Transalpina in Latin),
but they usually meant just the small strip of modern France that today ex-
tends from the border of Spain to the border of Italy. The Roman pres-
ence in southern France developed because of the military protection the
city of Rome afforded to the Greek city of Massilia (modern Marseilles) and
its colonies (e.g., Nicaea/Nice and Monoecus/Monaco), especially against
Hannibal’s Carthaginians (218–202 BCE) and against the Celtic Salluvii
(125–121 BCE). The Romans did not want to see such a prosperous ally as
Massilia (a major Mediterranean port town and source of precious amber and
tin from farther north along the Rhone River) destroyed by rivals or invad-
ers; they did want to guard the overland passage from Italy to their provinces
in Spain. So, Rome established a sort of protectorate over southern Gaul,
not only maintaining its alliances with the Greek communities there but also
making new alliances with the Celtic tribes there, such as the Volcae Tecto-
sages of Tolosa (modern Toulouse) and the Allobroges of Vienna (modern
Vienne); Rome also founded a colony of Italian settlers at Narbo (modern
Narbonne) to serve as a headquarters (hence the alternative name for the
region, Gallia Narbonensis). Apparently, the territory was placed under the
watch of either the governor of Nearer Spain or of Cisalpine Gaul, or other
military commanders and their troops were sent in on a temporary basis.
This arrangement changed in the late second century BCE, when the re-
gion was invaded by Germanic warriors from the Cimbri, Teutones, and
Ambrones. Roman armies suffered one of the most disastrous failures of
their entire history in Transalpine Gaul near the town of Arausio (modern
Orange) in 105 BCE, when 60,000 troops fell at the hands of the Cimbri.
This provoked a national emergency, in which Julius Caesar’s uncle, the fa-
mous Marius, was given the unenviable task of beating back the Germans,
which he did. From that time on, the Romans treated Transalpine Gaul as
a full province, with regular governors and garrisons assigned there, and
made Gallic allies beyond it, like the Aedui.
As Caesar’s own writings show, he and his generation never forgot Mari-
us’s heroics nor the serious threat to Rome posed by enemy invasions from
Gaul beyond the Alps. Yet, Caesar’s Gallia Narbonensis was really no un-
civilized wilderness. Besides the considerable Greek presence and perva-
sive influence, economic, cultural, and military, stretching back nearly 500
years, by the late first century BCE, the region was also very Romanized
(hence why Caesar and others refer to it simply as “the province,” provin-
cia in Latin, from which comes the modern French name, Provence). Cae-
sar found there not only Roman settlers who supported him in his wars
376
in Gallia Comata and in his Civil War against his Roman enemies but also
Gallic leaders and warriors who had received Roman citizenship from one
of the preceding governors; such men (e.g., C. Valerius Flaccus, son of Ca-
burus) became Caesar’s friends and provided him bilingual ambassadors for
his diplomatic and military efforts in the rest of Gaul.
Caesar furthered this process. As a reward for their loyalty, provincial
towns that devotedly gathered supplies for his army, sent their sons to join
it, or built ships for his navy, were enfranchised or partially enfranchised (as
in the case of the Celtic community at Nemausus/Nîmes, where the lead-
ers became Roman citizens), which is why many Romanized Gauls of later
generations had the family name Julius. He also established Roman veter-
ans from the Sixth Legion as a colony at the Greco-Celtic town of Arelate
(modern Arles) in 46 BCE, after having used it as a base of operations dur-
ing the Gallic Wars.
All this solidified and greatly enhanced the foundations upon which “the
Province” would become one of the most prosperous and most Roman
parts of the empire. The colonies Caesar founded and the towns he enfran-
chised developed into major centers of Roman architecture, art, entertain-
ment, and commerce, still some of the very best places to visit for those
interested in seeing Roman amphitheaters, bathhouses, and aqueducts;
Transalpine Gaul produced important Roman authors, like the historian
Tacitus, generals, like his father-in-law, Cn. Iulius Agricola from Forum
Iulii (modern Fréjus), and even emperors, like Antoninus Pius, whose fam-
ily originated in Nemausus.
In his own lifetime, the governorship of Transalpine Gaul served essential
purposes in Julius Caesar’s plans. Aside from the practical advantages it af-
forded him, defense of this territory provided him with the pretexts he needed
to challenge both German and Gallic rivals to Rome’s power in the area, and
consequently to invade and conquer Gallia Comata. Caesar also played on
Roman memories and fears of past invasions of the province, and the danger
those invasions had posed to Rome itself, to exaggerate the threats he himself
faced, and to cast himself in the role of Rome’s protector (which he explic-
itly assumed during the Civil War with Pompey), the role of a second Marius.
See also: Aedui; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Colonies; Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia
Cisalpina; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Germans; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Mas-
silia, Siege of (49 BCE); Provinces
Further Reading
Rivet, A.L.F. 1988. Gallia Narbonensis. London: B.T. Batsford, Ltd.
377
Gaul/Gallia Comata
Gaul/Gallia Comata
Julius Caesar’s conquest of Gaul had great significance for the future, as it
brought in populations that thoroughly adopted Roman ways and long re-
mained loyal to Rome’s empire, providing manpower and supplies for the
armies that guarded against Germanic invasions for generations. Later Eu-
ropean history would have been totally different as well, since the peoples
of Gaul, especially the Franks or French, considered themselves the heirs
to Rome, as seen in Charlemagne’s Empire (later called the Holy Roman
Empire) in medieval times.
What the Romans called Gallia Comata today corresponds to the coun-
tries of France, Belgium, Holland, and Luxemburg, as well as some of west-
ern Germany and portions of Switzerland. The Roman name translates as
“long-haired Gaul,” referring to the Roman observation that many of the
Gallic men, especially warriors, wore their hair unusually long (for Roman
taste, that is); a supporter of Caesar commemorated this on an issue of
coinage during the latter’s campaigns there.
Roman contact with the populations living in Gaul would have started at
least with the aid the Republic gave to the Greek town of Massilia (modern
Marseilles) in its efforts to prevent Carthaginian encroachment in the trade
routes of the area, which was among the major causes of the Second Punic
or Hannibalic War (218–202 BCE). After that time, Massilia often called on
Roman help against the local Gallic tribes, who were part of the much larger
Coin of Julius Caesar from his

campaigns in Gallia Comata.
The reverse (back) image shows
a trophy made of a Gallic
warrior costume, including the
horned helmet, oblong,
diamond-shaped shield (left),
trumpet horn (right), and
hatchet (far right). Minted ca.
48–47 BCE. (Araldo de Luca/
Corbis)
378
Gaul/Gallia Comata
Celtic culture stretching from Ireland in the west to Asia Minor (specifically,
Galatia) in the east and dating back to about the thirteenth century BCE.
Though some had acquired literacy (as seen in many surviving Gaul-
ish inscriptions) through individual contact with Greeks or Romans before
Caesar’s conquests, the Celtic populations, including those in Gallia Co-
mata, wrote no works of literature about their society and history; reliance
on biased Greek and especially Roman sources is therefore necessary but
understandably hazardous. Fortunately, archaeological evidence supple-
ments such writings as Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic War, helping
to confirm, clarify, and modify his assertions about populations that he, in
particular, portrayed as moralistic foils to his own corrupt Roman society
(especially in terms of religion and family), while his fellow Romans, in gen-
eral, regarded those populations as barbaric—not that Caesar entirely dis-
agreed since his seeming admiration for their customs and fighting skill was
counterbalanced by his belief that Gauls were overly passionate, too quick
to change, and weak in judgment.
This was certainly not the case in Gallia Comata. Numerous Celtic tribes
had settled down there from their previous seminomadic lifestyle to en-
gage in highly productive agriculture; they continued very ancient tradi-
tions of metalworking in iron that were just as good if not better than
Roman methods and that made many of them expert miners. Under the
influence of extensive trade with Mediterranean cultures, these tribes were
developing urban centers around or within their hilltop fortresses, where
large groups of extended families dwelled in roundhouses of stone, tim-
ber, thatch and wicker, depending on their location and resources. These
“towns” were under the authority of wealthy and militarily successful tribal
chiefs and their armies of warriors on foot and especially on horseback, tied
together by bonds of loyalty, vassalage, and honor, who lorded it over the
rest of the population, free as well as serf. The fine metalsmiths of the Gauls
provided them with excellent weaponry, on a par with the Roman, and the
tools that their farmers used to clear areas of dense woodland and plow vast
tracts of farmland.
When the Roman governor of Transalpine Gaul (modern Provence) died
late in 59 BCE, the Roman general and politician, Pompey, persuaded the
Senate to entrust that province to his associate, Julius Caesar; Caesar was
already assigned to govern Cisalpine Gaul (northern Italy) and now had the
added responsibilities of maintaining law and order in the Roman territory
beyond the Alps and friendships with Rome’s allies in the rest of Gaul, such
as the Aedui tribe.
This might have proved a routine exercise, especially considering that
Caesar actually had relatively little military experience at that point, having
served briefly in Asia Minor and in Spain. But he sought to achieve mili-
tary glory for himself, and an opportunity for this was presented by the fact
379
Gaul/Gallia Comata
that Gallia Comata had become the target of migrating warrior populations
from Germany and Switzerland. The German tribe called Suebi had pushed
its way into central Gaul, allied with the Celtic Sequani tribe, and forced the
Aedui (the Sequani’s enemies), into submission. In 58 BCE, Caesar moved
his troops from Transalpine Gaul into Gallia Comata against the Suebi,
pushing them back across the Rhine. Next came the Celtic Helvetii, who
migrated from Switzerland into Gallia Comata in search of new lands. Cae-
sar decided to stand smack in the path of the Helvetii at the Rhone River.
He defeated them in two battles.
Caesar, thus, established the Romans as the dominant power in Gaul,
and he intended that it should stay that way. Many populations there now
sought to ally with him in fear of further foreign incursions. Others, how-
ever, remained hostile to Rome.
The Belgae, a tribe of mixed Germanic and Gallic ancestry living in
modern-day northeast France, Belgium, and Holland, rose up against the
Roman presence in 57 BCE; Caesar defeated them along with other coastal
tribes in a campaign that continued into the following year. Caesar faced
down another Belgic revolt, involving the Nervii, Treveri, and Eburones,
in winter of 54/53 BCE. By far the most serious uprising against Roman
overlordship spread through almost all the peoples of Gallia Comata in
52 BCE, led by Vercingetorix. Caesar succeeded in his difficult siege of
the fortress of Alesia and gained the subsequent surrender of Vercingeto-
rix, but it still took another year to pacify Gaul, not only through mili-
tary might but also through Caesar’s trademark moderation and clemency,
which won him many friends and clients among the Gallic tribes.
Caesar’s conquest of Gaul had a very important impact on Caesar’s
Rome. His political enemies now had good reason to fear his power and
resources, since he had access to millions of Gallic mercenaries and allies,
had acquired over 63,000 talents of silver (over three million pounds),
had built up a reputation for amazing successes, and had forged a fiercely
loyal army of Roman troops who had won loot and glory along with him.
Such huge forces and such enormous wealth gave Caesar the power to ul-
timately overthrow the Republic.
See also: Aedui; Ariovistus; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Germans; Helvetii;
Provinces; Suebi; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Cunliffe, B. 1997. The Ancient Celts. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
ledge.
380
Germans

University Press.
California Press.
Germans
In the middle of the first century BCE, Rome found its provincial territory,
foreign allies, and its own colonies in southern France threatened by Ger-
manic warriors. Julius Caesar recognized the very real need to stem the
Germanic advance but also regarded this threat as a chance to win great
military glory for himself.
According to archaeological and literary evidence from Roman authors,
Germanic populations began migrating from their original homeland along
the Baltic Sea coast ca. 300 BCE, spreading south and west through eastern
and central Europe, the large region that Romans (starting with Caesar,
who himself was following Gallic practice) referred to as Germania. By the
second century BCE, the constant moving of the Germanic tribes included
repeated crossings of the Rhine River in search of new farmland and re-
sources in territory inhabited primarily by Gallic (to use the Roman term)
or Celtic (to use a term with wider meaning) peoples. This is why Caesar,
nearly one hundred years later, encountered populations on the western side
of the Rhine, such as the Belgae, of mixed Germanic and Gallic ancestry.
The migrations of seminomadic Germanic tribes eventually led to con-
frontation with Rome near the very end of the second century BCE. In
the year 110 BCE, three Germanic tribes, the Cimbri, Teutones, and Am-
brones, invaded Transalpine Gaul (modern Provence), causing trouble
for Rome’s Gallic allies and colonists in the region. Roman generals and
troops attempted to defend the area, but with mixed results, especially
when a lack of cooperation between two particular Roman commanders
precipitated the death of 60,000 Roman soldiers in the battle of Arau-
sio (modern Orange) in 105 BCE. A new commander, Rutilius, began to
restore discipline among the remaining forces and to alter their training
regimen, which was ratcheted up when C. Marius was sent out to replace
him in 104 BCE. Marius’s political and military clout and popularity se-
cured repeated extensions of his command (through 101 BCE), unprec-
edented at that time, as many believed he was the only general capable of
halting the German threat. Retrained, employing new strategies, and in-
spired by his charisma, Marius’s troops scored a major victory against the
Teutons at Aquae Sextiae (just north of modern Marseilles) in 102 BCE. Yet,
the German threat became much greater when the Cimbri and Ambrones
381
Germans
View of the Rhine River and

surrounding German country-
side. Julius Caesar became the
first Roman general to bridge
the river and cross it with an
army. (UNESCO)
turned to penetrate Italy itself; in 101 BCE, Marius’s colleague Catulus

scored a victory over these invaders at Vercellae (modern Vercelli in Pied-
mont), though Marius received virtually all the credit and was hailed in
Rome as “savior.”
Germania remained off the Roman radar screen for some three decades,
until, in 70 BCE, the Suebi tribe, led by the warlord Ariovistus, moved across
the Rhine River into central Gaul; they joined forces with the Gallic Se-
quani tribe in its feud against the Gallic Aedui tribe. But the Aedui had
been allied with Rome since at least the time of the Teutonic-Cimbric in-
vasion and appealed to Rome for help when they were badly defeated and
forced to come to terms by the Suebi and Sequani in 61 BCE. The Roman
government, however, responded through diplomacy, not force, recogniz-
ing Ariovistus as an ally and friend of Rome through negotiations that con-
cluded in 58 BCE.
This did not sit well, not just with the Aedui, but also with Rome’s
other allies in Transalpine Gaul and beyond in Gallia Comata, who con-
tinued to feel threatened by the migrating Germanic tribesmen. When
Ariovistus, with fresh support from Germania, subjugated his allies the
Sequani and again attacked the Aedui, Julius Caesar, provincial com-
mander in Transalpine Gaul, moved his troops into Gallia Comata against
the Suebi and forced them all the way back across the Rhine, thus estab-
lishing the Romans as the dominant power in Gaul; many populations
there now sought to ally with Rome in fear of further German incursions.
In the following year, 57 BCE, Caesar proceeded against the warrior Bel-
gae, noted earlier, a tribe hostile to Roman presence in Gallia Comata. They
were defeated along with other coastal tribes in a campaign that continued
into 56 BCE. In the winter of 56/55 BCE, two more Germanic tribes, the
Usipetes and Tencteri, crossed the lower Rhine into Gaul. The next sum-
mer, Caesar attacked and annihilated their forces. Twice he built bridges
382
Germans
over the Rhine and invaded Germany to demonstrate Roman might; on the
second occasion, he also wished to protect the Ubii, a German tribe that
had recognized Roman overlordship, against the Suebi.
Caesar also recruited Germanic warriors as auxiliaries, especially cav-
alry, to fight alongside his other troops; they tended to be loyal, fierce,
and recklessly brave in battle, often tipping the balance of Gallic affairs in
Caesar’s favor. During his Civil War with Pompey, both he and his ene-
mies employed German auxiliaries. Caesar had unwittingly opened a door
here; from his era onward, German mercenaries would play an increasing
role inside the Roman Empire until finally conquering it in the fifth cen-
tury CE.
Despite this close contact with Germans, Caesar’s own account of their
culture (the oldest surviving literary record about them from ancient times)
emphasizes the differences (sometimes exotic) between the Roman world
and the Germanic world and thus functions primarily as a commentary
on the flaws of Roman culture as compared to the simpler purity of Ger-
manic culture. In its general outlines about Germanic society and warfare,
it shows greatest accuracy. The Germanic populations engaged in agricul-
ture and raising livestock, he tells us; they built no urban or semi-urban
centers since they were frequently on the move. They would exhaust the
resources of a given area and have to leave it for greener pastures or they
might be forced out by a more powerful neighbor. Feuding often among
themselves, any one Germanic tribe was divided into competing clans, each
of which was dominated by its own warriors and war chief; unity took place
only under the most serious conditions, under the authority of a war chief
accepted by the largest number or most powerful warriors of the tribe or
tribes, as it happened in the case of Ariovistus.
Through his conquest of all of Gaul, which pushed Roman power to
the Rhine River, and his defeat of several Germanic tribes, Caesar estab-
lished Rome as the principal adversary of the German peoples. His “pol-
icy” of keeping them out of Roman territory led directly to the attempts
of Roman Emperors to invade and conquer Germania and contributed sig-
nificantly to the restlessness of the seminomadic German tribes, who saw
the Roman Empire as an obstacle to their natural expansion westward and
southward, an expansion that would eventually take place five centuries or
so after Caesar.
See also: Ariovistus; Belgae; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Gaul/Gallia Co-
mata; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Suebi
Further Reading
383
Gloria/Glory
Gloria/Glory
In the political treatises of the famous Roman orator and statesman Cicero,
a contemporary of Julius Caesar, gloria or glory consisted in the acclaim,
respect, and reputation gained by someone who had performed great ser-
vices to the Republic, as recognized by both the common people and the
elite. It could most often be acquired through military exploits, but not ex-
clusively in this way. Thus, even though the Latin verb from which gloria
derived, gloriari, meant to boast or take pride in oneself, Romans of Cice-
ro’s generation, and, indeed, of those long before, considered glory prop-
erly as something conveyed by witnesses to one’s achievements, as a social
admiration earned by particular merits.
In his own writings, Caesar makes clear the strong connection between
glory and military achievement. For example, in his account of the Gallic
Wars, he mentions among the reasons behind the moves of the Helvetii, a
tribe that had invaded Gallic territory, their gloria belli, that is, their repu-
tation for warfare, which drove them to engage in even further conflict,
almost in an unending cycle. Many of the Gallic tribes possessed similar
reputations, such as the peoples of western Gaul who resisted the interfer-
ence of Roman forces under Caesar’s lieutenant, P. Crassus. The Bellovaci,
a tribe of northeastern Gaul, apparently stood out among the peoples of
the entire region for their gloria belli, their “greatness in warfare.” Such
pedigrees of glory prompted another of Caesar’s lieutenants, Titurius Sa-
binus, to assert instead that the Gauls had been reduced under the power
of the Roman People and their prior and greater repute in military matters
had been extinguished (superiore gloria rei militaris extincta), that is, by the
“new” glory of Rome. He was premature in declaring this, since the great
Gallic-wide rebellion of Vercingetorix against Caesar and Rome found its
principal motivation in the veterem belli gloriam, “the ancient glory in war-
fare,” of the Gauls. They had not given up on this.
In Caesar’s entire Bellum Gallicum, he seems to aim at characterizing
the Gauls as driven by glory, as if the Romans were not. His only reference
to a Roman seeking glory is the centurion Marcus Petreius, who claims at
one point that he led his men into danger because of his desire for glory
(cupiditate gloriae). The anonymous author of the last book of the Bellum
Gallicum, however, makes no bones about the fact that Roman legionaries
deliberately stole the victoriae gloriam, the “honor of the kill,” from their
fellow comrades during the last stages of fighting in Gaul.
384
Gloria/Glory
In point of fact, glory-hunting had become a pastime of the Romans in

many of their wars across the Mediterranean for more than a century be-
fore the time of the Gallic Wars. This is not to say that military gloria had
not held importance to the Romans even earlier, but that, as the power and
the wealth derived from warfare dramatically increased in the second and
first centuries BCE, Roman generals and their armies wreaked even more
havoc in places like Spain, Greece, and Asia Minor (modern Turkey) largely
for the purpose of building up gloria belli. The gloria of Caesar’s famous
uncle, Marius, in his North African campaigns, for example, had gained
the latter preferment in elections back home without even his presence in
the capital. Others attempted to emulate him, especially the three famous
associates, Crassus, Pompey, and Caesar. Crassus sought to provoke an all-
out war with the Parthian Empire (the power that held most of the Middle
East) largely to compete in glory with his comrades. They had both ex-
ceeded the bounds of formal military mandates, the one in Asia Minor, the
other in Gaul, to achieve gloria (among other things). Indeed, Pompey
had built his military reputation on snatching the glory of other command-
ers (including Metellus Pius, Lucullus, and even Crassus), while many in
Rome openly accused Caesar of waging “unnecessary” warfare upon the
Gallic tribes for nearly a decade in the name of personal glory. He might
have skirted the charges himself, but, by the time of the Civil War between
him and Pompey, even subordinates, like Caesar’s legate Curio in North
Africa, did not shy from openly encouraging their troops to fight for glory
just as they did for spoils. In the aftermath of the Civil War, Caesar planned
a new expedition against the Parthians, again primarily an exercise in glory-
hunting.
The Imperial biographer Suetonius, writing a century and a half later,
uses the word gloria to describe Caesar’s fame, asserting that he surpassed
the renown of those who came before him in eloquence and in military
matters. He even argued that Caesar punished the troublesome plebeian
tribunes Flavus and Marullus in 44 BCE because they stole from him the
gloriam recusandi, the “glory of refusing” the honor of kingship in Rome.
Even such a refusal of honors could evidently contribute to a Roman’s
praiseworthy reputation, at least in Caesar’s opinion.
Caesar’s younger contemporary, the historian Sallust, would have agreed
with Suetonius’s use of the term. Sallust believed that, of all the men of his
time, Caesar and M. Porcius Cato possessed the greatest renown or distinc-
tion, the greatest gloria, though acquired by different means. Such glory,
coming from great deeds, had the potential to make one immortal. This
was possible, however, only if glory was pursued for virtuous causes. As he
reflected on the greed and raw power displayed in the upheavals he wit-
nessed during the Late Republic, especially the Civil War between Caesar
and his rivals, Sallust questioned whether the generals and senators realized
385
Gloria/Glory
that “envy follows after glory” (post gloriam invidiam sequi), producing di-
sastrous results.
See also: Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cato (95–46 BCE);
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE);
Dignitas; Honor; Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Parthia;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE);
Triumvirate; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Earl, D. 1961. The Political Thought of Sallust. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
York: Penguin Publishing.
386
H
Haruspicy
Haruspicy
Romans, like other cultures of the ancient Mediterranean world, sought
signs from the gods to help guide them in their actions, both individual and
communal. They learned from their neighbors in the north, the Etruscans,
that some of those signs were hidden within the bodies of the animals they
offered for sacrifice. Therefore, from early on in the history of the Republic,
the Roman Senate imported Etruscan experts in haruspicy or haruspicium
(also called extispicium), investigation of the internal organs, as consultants
on pertinent religious matters, while Roman magistrates and priests always
had at least one such expert or haruspex on hand during sacrificial rituals.
Those trained for the task of haruspicium developed full knowledge of
the sorts of animals they examined, such as pigs, cattle, and sheep. They not
only confirmed that a sacrificial animal was healthy and unblemished on the
outside, but they also understood what particular internal organs should
look like for the animal to have been healthy on the inside. Unhealthy col-
orations or unusual growths were interpreted as secret messages from the
gods, placed there to be discovered by clever humans and to be interpreted
by experts like themselves. It was believed that the haruspices, from their
examination, could identify the will of the gods and make predictions about
the future. Their assessment of the entrails of a sacrificial animal following
its slaughter also allowed them to make sure that it was a fit offering to the
gods, who would accept nothing less than perfect gifts from humans.
Commanders took haruspices with them on military campaigns, since the
Roman army frequently engaged in divination, the practice of identifying
the divine will, through sacrifice. For example, in 48 BCE, one of the har-
uspices in Julius Caesar’s army investigated the animal slaughtered during
a lustration ceremony, a ritual of purification for the troops. Whatever he
discovered within the animal’s entrails, he interpreted it as signaling that a
battle would take place within three days’ time; in fact, the battle would be
a decisive one in the conflict between Caesar and his rival Pompey.
This intrigued Caesar, naturally, who inquired whether the result of the
battle would favor him. The haruspex replied that he could only interpret
the signs to see that a military engagement would completely reverse the
current state of affairs; when pressed by Caesar, he advised the latter, in
cryptic terms, to consider for himself basically whether he sought such a
reversal of fortunes. The gods promised only a major change; whether that
change favored Caesar or not depended on his own assessment of how mat-
ters stood for him at that moment. In other words, haruspicy could only
do so much; human judgment and initiative played a pivotal part in con-
junction with divine guidance. Within three days a battle did take place,
launched by Pompey, the famous Battle of Pharsalus, which brought suc-
cess to Caesar.
389
Haruspicy
Before engaging in battle, Roman commanders were expected to sacri-

fice animals. Not to do so would have been regarded as amazingly reckless,
since the will of the gods in regard to fighting the battle or not had to be
tested. Yet, when such a sacrifice conducted by Caesar went awry in 46 BCE
(the animal designated for slaughter escaped and fled the scene just prior
to Caesar’s attack against Metellus Scipio and King Juba of Numidia), he
marched against the enemy force anyway and scored a great victory.
Haruspicy was not only conducted for military purposes, though, and
not only through examination of internal anatomy. For example, when
a remarkable horse was born in Caesar’s stables, one whose hooves were
shaped like human-looking toes, haruspices were called in to explain this
phenomenon. They foretold that its master would rule the world. Caesar,
even though a skeptic when it came to religion, certainly appreciated that
prediction.
Caesar’s own assassination was apparently forewarned by haruspicy.
Though the details of the event are sketchy, during a sacrifice that he con-
ducted sometime in early 44 BCE, probably in his official capacity as dicta-
tor, the haruspex who was standing by to examine the internal organs of the
sacrificial victim found no heart. Obviously, no animal could live without a
heart, and since the animal apparently never left Caesar’s sight, something
quite unusual must have happened to the heart that prevented the priest
from locating it. In any event, this represented a very bad omen; not only
did such an animal constitute an unacceptable offering to the gods, but it
also suggested something to the Romans about the heart of their society,
the dictator Caesar, becoming lost to them.
Furthermore, on the actual day of his murder, when his frightened wife,
Calpurnia, insisted that Caesar consult the sacrifices before going to meet
with the Senate, every sacrificial animal examined by the haruspices whom
he had summoned to his home spelled doom. Had it not been for the inter-
ference of Decimus Brutus, a man whom he closely trusted but actually one
of the Conspirators against him, Caesar would probably have stayed home
and at least avoided his assassination for one more day; Decimus Brutus in
fact openly ridiculed the haruspices as charlatans who could foretell noth-
ing in an effort of determined persuasion to get Caesar to come to his own
slaughter.
Of all the methods of divination, none received as much criticism in
Roman society as haruspicy, probably because of its close association
with Etruscan culture; the Romans had fought many wars to conquer
and suppress the Etruscans and, even after succeeding, continued a love–
hate relationship with their neighbors to the north. Nevertheless, even
those skeptics, like Caesar himself, had to recognize that haruspicy held
a notably integral place in the religion, politics, society, and warfare
of Rome.
390
HBO’s Rome (2005–2007)
See also: Army; Calpurnia; Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Dictator;
Lustrations; Omens; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Religion, Roman; Sacri-
fices; Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE); Venus Genetrix
Further Reading
Lewis, N. 1976. The Interpretation of Dreams and Portents. Toronto: Hakkert and
Co.
ing.
HBO’s Rome (2005–2007)

From 2005 to 2007, cable television network HBO produced and aired
a two-season series entitled, Rome, filmed at studios and on locations in
Italy. The series received much popular and critical acclaim, especially for
things such as set design, screenwriting, and costuming. In spite of such
accolades, however, and in spite of their skill at developing an atmosphere
approximating the physical environment of Rome in the Late Republic,
the creators of and writers for Rome, most of whom have backgrounds in
“thrillers” of one sort or another, nonetheless presented a story filled with
exaggerations and blatant inaccuracies, a sensationalized version of the de-
mise of the Late Roman Republic.
The series was quite clearly not conceived to tell a particular tale of poli-
tics, or the life of a particular historical character, or even a particular mili-
tary campaign. As it was aired, it did focus on the period from the Civil War
between Pompey and Julius Caesar to the victory of Octavian over Cleopa-
tra and Marc Antony, that is, approximately the years 52 to 29 BCE. How-
ever, the production staff seems to had serious discussions on the prospect
of continuing the story further, perhaps even as far as the ministry of Jesus
of Nazareth (i.e., up to about 30 CE). If they had done so, there would have
been no natural unity to the series. Considering such behind-the-scenes
discussions and the layout of the series as it was in fact produced, it ap-
pears that its creators never had an overall theme by which the entire series
would be knitted together. Instead, the primary purpose of the program,
as revealed in interviews and press releases, seems to have been simply to
explore a side of Rome that had never really been emphasized before on
391
HBO’s Rome (2005–2007)
A scene from Season 1 of the HBO miniseries Rome, showing soldiers saluting Caesar
(Ciaran Hinds) at his camp in Gaul. (Franco Biciocchi/HBO/Photofest)
television or in motion pictures: grimy, gritty, ugly, full of schemers and

immorality, the “under-belly” of the ancient world, if you will. Hence the
focus was on Pullo and Vorenus, based loosely on two real-life centurions
in Caesar’s army in Gaul, made famous by Caesar’s own comments about
their reckless bravery and macho competitiveness; hence also the beginning
of the very first episode with scenes of dirty Roman backstreets and walls
covered in graffiti (that comes to life through computer graphics). The pur-
pose of Rome places it in the same category as the other so-called historical
period programs produced by HBO over the years, like Deadwood on the
Old West, for example.
For the purposes of this volume, a brief commentary on the characters
in the first season of Rome, which ends with the death of Caesar, suffices to
give the reader a sense of the legacy of Caesar perpetuated for twenty-first-
century audiences, of what can and cannot be learned about his lifetime
from the HBO series. Right from the very introduction, viewers are misled
in their understanding of certain fundamental realities of the Late Republic.
The narrator asserts that there was a struggle between the commoners and
the nobility; in fact, the struggle took place within the nobility, the com-
moners being used by one aristocratic faction or another for its own pur-
poses. By claiming that Caesar stood with the common people, the writers
of Rome tacitly deny that Pompey, too, enjoyed tremendous support from
the commoners. The introduction also asserts that Caesar and Pompey held
the Roman world together, when, in fact, they had both contributed to the
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HBO’s Rome (2005–2007)
instability of that world by pursuing their own selfish ambitions; they, more
accurately, held the Roman world hostage between them.
As the first season progresses, more problems emerge. Many figures are
simply missing from the story, such as the Marcellus cousins, Domitius
Ahenobarbus, and Bibulus, all of whom vigorously opposed Caesar. Others
are missing from Caesar’s side, such as Curio, who became one of his most
confidential agents. Such individuals generated serious historical chains of
events; without them, things simply would not have happened in Rome at
all as they did. Yet, these figures did not receive even an honorable mention
in the series.
Those principal characters that are portrayed range from believable to
absurd. For instance, the character of Caesar’s former mistress, Servilia,
matches fairly well with the historical person: she is intelligent, aristocratic,
influential, and still quite enamored of Caesar (though later the script
writers make her the instigator of Caesar’s assassination). Her son, Bru-
tus, though displayed at first as opposed to politics (completely false his-
torically), demonstrates his well-documented affection for Caesar and his
commitment to Roman values. Even the character of Pompey displays the
hesitancy and inconsistency of the historical Pompey in the last few years of
his life. Yet, he also schemes to discredit and perhaps even assassinate Cae-
sar in Gaul (for which there is absolutely no shred of evidence), pushes the
Senate to make motions against Caesar (which, again, was in fact the work
of other persons not included in the fictionalized script), and displays a hos-
tility toward Caesar’s opponents in the aristocracy that, once more, does
not match the behavior of the real Pompey.
Absurdity, or parody perhaps, really displays itself in the characters of
Cato, Cicero, Antony, Atia, and Octavia. Even though Caesar’s most for-
midable political opponent in real life, Cato is portrayed as a crotchety,
scheming old man (in fact, he was younger, more forthright, and more fiery
than Caesar himself). The famous orator and statesman Cicero, who tried
for years to resist the ambitions of Caesar and separate Pompey from any as-
sociation with him, seems in Rome a spineless jelly fish. Marc Antony, Cae-
sar’s chief lieutenant, appears in the guise almost of an aggressive gangster,
perhaps only a slight exaggeration, but also a politically-inept one (which
Antony certainly was not).
In addition, Antony is portrayed as involved in an affair with Caesar’s
niece, Atia. Hers is one of the central characters of the story, and prob-
ably the most altered from reality. The historical Atia was remembered,
along with her daughter, Octavia, as a pillar of virtue, the embodiment
of old-fashioned Roman values, choosing to live in deliberate contrast to
many aristocratic women of her day; not ambitious at all, she was, in fact,
terrified when her son, Octavian, inherited the name and legacy of Julius
Caesar, and she tried to persuade him to walk away from it. In Rome, the
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HBO’s Rome (2005–2007)
screenwriters completely ignore that Atia was happily married at the time of
the action and instead portray her as a sex-crazed manipulator, a very cold,
calculating, pragmatic individual, fond of all sorts of weird religious cults,
who seeks to make everything about her. She even prostitutes her own
daughter in an attempt to gain Pompey’s favor; not surprisingly, Octavia is
later portrayed as incestuous with her brother, again a gross invention out
of whole cloth, intended to titillate the modern audience, which, appar-
ently, cannot handle the story of the real Octavia, who raised not only her
own three children by her first husband, Marcellus but also her two chil-
dren by Antony, his two sons by Fulvia, and his three children by Cleopa-
tra. Octavia was the ultimate in persevering Roman motherhood, not the
strangely inadequate and bizarre character portrayed in Rome.
Last, but not least, the character of Julius Caesar seems at times quite
wooden, and at other times, incredibly brutish. He lacks the complex per-
sonality and sophistication of the real human being whom we have come to
know through his own memoirs and letters and the evidence of other wit-
nesses, contemporary and later.
HBO’s Rome feeds a pernicious tendency today, even among experts in
the field of ancient history, to regard any popular production on a classi-
cal theme as a good thing. Many believe that, no matter the flaws in such a
production, at least in this way, modern audiences are being introduced to
a world they might otherwise know little or nothing about. This desire for
what we might call “publicity for the classics at any cost” is unfortunate. If
the famous twentieth-century author and philosopher, George Santayana,
was correct that people are condemned to repeat the past if they do not re-
member it, then television viewers, among other audiences, will be among
those condemned, because they cannot remember the past if they are not
viewing critically accurate history, in a sense, “re-staged” for them. If high
school teachers and college professors are compelled to re-educate their stu-
dents about the lifetime of Julius Caesar because what those students have
gained from television misinforms them or leaves significant gaps in their
understanding of his time period, then the entertainment media have failed
their viewers. Programs such as HBO’s Rome tend to pander to the lowest
common denominator by filling the airwaves (or the fiber-optic cables) with
gratuitous sex and violence, perpetuating a crude caricature of Roman soci-
ety and presenting a storyline that says more about our own age, our societal
attitudes and eccentricities, than about the real Romans of the distant past.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE);
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero,
Marcus (106–43 BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE); Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48
BCE); Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Opti-
mates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Senate; Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE)
394
Helvetii
Further Reading
Wyke, M. ed. 2006. Julius Caesar in Western Culture. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Pub-
lishing.
Wyke, M. 2012. Caesar in the USA. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of Cali-
fornia Press.
Helvetii
During the first year of Julius Caesar’s governorship over the provinces of
Cisalpine Gaul (northernmost Italy), Transalpine Gaul (modern Provence,
France), and Illyricum (territory along the eastern Adriatic Sea coast roughly
from today’s Croatia through Albania), an opportunity presented itself not
only for him to gain personal military glory, which he greatly desired, but
also for him to extend Roman influence further into Gallia Comata (central
and northern France, and Belgium, southwestern Holland, Luxemburg,
and western Germany). This opportunity came from the Gallic tribe called
the Helvetii, specifically from their militant migration into territory already
inhabited by allies of Rome.
The Helvetii, like other Celtic and Germanic peoples, had a heritage of
nomadic wandering punctuated by periods of extended settlement. As far as
the Romans could learn, the migrations of the Helvetii had brought them
Frieze sculpture of Romans battling Gauls (or Germans), as depicted on the Arch of
Triumph, Orange, France. The Emperor Augustus had this monument erected, in
part, to honor those Roman soldiers who fought in Caesar’s Gallic campaigns. (Steve
Estvanik/Dreamstime.com)
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Helvetii
from southern Germany; at the start of Caesar’s governorship, they had

been living for close to fifty years in what today would be called Switzerland.
Their Gallic cousins in France knew the Helvetii as strikingly good warriors;
raiding parties from their Germanic neighbors certainly had experienced
their fair share of repulses from the Helvetii. Even the Romans had tasted
defeat at their hands, when forces under the command of L. Cassius had
been routed by the Helvetii back in 107 BCE; in fact, Cassius had died in the
fighting and the survivors of his army humiliated by the ancient custom of
the yoke (i.e., the unarmed prisoners were forced to march in between files
of enemy troops who held a “doorway” or “yoke” of three spears around
and over the prisoners, demonstrating their helplessness under enemy weap-
ons). Surprisingly, perhaps, but explicable mainly by the more pressing con-
cerns facing them in those days, and in the years to come, the Senate and
People of Rome never truly retaliated for this defeat and disgrace.
Caesar certainly played up the chance to do so when the entire Helvetian
tribe set itself on the move again in the spring of 58 BCE. Following a tradi-
tional pattern of the Celtic and Germanic tribes, after settling in an area for
a while, taking full advantage of its resources of farmland, grazing pasture,
timber, water, and so on, whole populations moved on to lands with fresh
resources or possibilities of plunder from neighboring groups. The leading
warlords of the Helvetii, urged on by the particularly ambitious Orgetorix,
decided that their current home in Switzerland was too confining for the
growth and advancement of the tribe, that it was time to pick up stakes; Or-
getorix further insisted that the Helvetii had such military superiority over the
tribes of central France that soon his people could become masters through-
out the region with little effort. Even though Orgetorix had fallen from grace
among his fellow leaders and, in fact, had died (perhaps by suicide) before the
tribe ever left Switzerland, his plan to migrate, either northwestward through
the lands of the Sequani or southwestward through the lands of the Allobro-
ges (both, by the way, with ties to Rome), was not abandoned.
Caesar had no intention of allowing the violent Helvetii, who already
had a black mark on their name from the Roman perspective, to enter ter-
ritory inhabited by Gallic allies of Rome. Having delayed their movement
through negotiations so as to buy time to build up his military forces in
the province of Transalpine Gaul, he quickly constructed defensive works
to prevent the Helvetian passage into Allobrogian lands. When he next in-
formed the Helvetian leaders that in no way would the Roman State permit
them to enter its province, they responded with force. Since Caesar’s troops
and the defenses they had put in place along the Rhone River prevented the
Helvetian assault from accomplishing much, the latter turned to their other
option, passing through the lands of the Sequani, whom they convinced,
through circuitous negotiations, would suffer no damage to their people or
property during the migration.
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Helvetii
The Sequani had nothing to worry about, then, but their neighbors to
the southwest, the Aedui, did; drawing upon their long-standing alliance
with Rome, the latter called upon Caesar to rescue them from the depre-
dations of the Helvetii. The Roman governor was more than willing to
oblige, and further defended his decision to do so with recent intelligence
regarding where the Helvetii intended to settle, among the Santones, who
lived dangerously close to the western edge of Transalpine Gaul. Having
raised more forces (amounting altogether to about seven legions) from
Italy and from his provinces, Caesar crossed the frontier into Gallia Comata
in pursuit of the Helvetii, who, if we can believe Caesar’s own calculations,
had nearly twice as many fighting men as he did.
Two major engagements took place between the opposing armies. First,
Caesar overtook about a quarter of the Helvetian forces before they could
cross westward over the Saone River to join their comrades on the other
side; the Romans carried out against them a daring sneak attack by night,
leaving only a few survivors straggling into the woods. Second, after an-
other attempt at negotiated settlement failed (mainly because of Caesar’s
high demands for reparations and arrogant threats from the undeterred
Helvetii), and after dogging the heels of the other three-fourths of the
enemy column for over two weeks, Caesar drew them into a decisive en-
gagement almost by accident. He had sent some of his troops under T. La-
bienus, his senior legate, ahead of the enemy while he himself commanded
the remainder of his forces in pursuit of the Helvetii. When he turned away
from the pursuit toward the Aeduan town of Bibracte to gather stores of
foodstuffs and other supplies, the Helvetii misinterpreted this as a Roman
retreat and decided to attack their foes. The Romans, however, had the ad-
vantage both in terms of position on the high ground and in terms of weap-
onry, especially their heavy javelins. Fighting along the hillsides and even
in the Helvetian camp of circled wagons lasted throughout the afternoon
until sunset, ending in defeat and the flight of masses of survivors.
These Caesar eventually captured, several days later, executing a large
number who attempted to escape his grasp; the rest followed through on
their agreement to hand over their weapons and hostages to the Romans as
pledge of obedience. The Roman commander understood that the entire
tribe had destroyed its houses and other property left behind in its home-
land, but he, nevertheless, wanted them to return home. So, he arranged
for the Allobroges to trade with the Helvetian survivors whatever supplies
they needed to live and rebuild.
Again, Caesar’s confrontation with and defeat of the migrating Helvetii
set the stage for Rome’s interference throughout the Gallic region. It really
began the transformation of Gallia Comata into a Roman sphere of influ-
ence and put a serious break on the ages-old tradition of migrations into
Gaul from the east.
397
Homosexuality
See also: Aedui; Arms and Armor; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/
Gallia Cisalpina; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina; Germans; Labienus
(d. 45 BCE); Provinces; Senate
Further Reading
ledge.
University Press.
Hirtius. See Oppius and Hirtius

Homosexuality
Though homosexuality had a long history of acceptance in the ancient Greek
world, where in some communities it was even officially encouraged to forge
stronger emotional bonds among fighting men, in Roman society, there was
a tremendously strong stigma attached to it, especially during the Republic.
By Caesar’s time, Greek sexual customs had penetrated the Roman upper
class, but even changes in practice did not equal changes in attitudes.
To be labeled as a homosexual in the political and social realms of Rome
was one of the greatest assaults on a person’s honor. In 63 BCE, the famous
orator Cicero, then consul of the Republic, delivered a speech to the assem-
bled People in the Roman Forum in which he smeared the character of the
armed forces under the command of Catiline, a rebel operating against the
state, and especially Catiline’s bodyguard, by referring to them as homo-
sexuals. (Cicero would level the same “charge” at Marc Antony about two
decades later to sully the latter’s popular reputation as a “virile warrior.”)
Cicero’s younger contemporary, the historian Sallust, in his commentary
on the Conspiracy of Catiline, blamed the increase in homosexuality and
other “deviant” sexual practices in part for what he saw as the severe moral
decline of Rome, and especially of the Roman youth.
Romans had more than a prejudice against homosexuality, however;
their laws categorized it under the heading of stuprum, unnatural sexual
activity, which warranted the death penalty. This law applied only to citi-
zens, however, not to foreigners and especially not to slaves (the notion of
the “sex-slave” was not a euphemism but a reality in Roman society). So,
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Homosexuality
Roman men or women who sought a homosexual relationship had to do

so with someone from those non-citizen groups or be willing to risk facing
criminal prosecution. A Roman male in any form of military service, if sus-
pected of homosexuality, was brought before a military tribunal on criminal
charges; if found guilty, the punishment was execution by beating, carried
out by one’s fellow soldiers.
Despite all the possible dangers, Julius Caesar appears to have engaged
in some homosexual behavior, at least during his young manhood. When
he was about nineteen or twenty, he saw his first military service, as a “tent-
comrade” (apprentice staffer) of Thermus, provincial governor of Asia
(roughly west-central Turkey today). Thermus charged Caesar with the
task of collecting warships from neighboring Bithynia, a kingdom allied
to Rome. The young man spent a lot more time there than expected or
needed for his task and rumors began to circulate. Apparently, the ruler
of Bithynia, Nicomedes IV, had a reputation for having relationships with
men, especially younger men (the king himself was in his sixties at the time
of Caesar’s visit). After his first visit, Caesar soon returned to Bithynia, al-
legedly on private financial business; the suspicions about his affair with
Nicomedes only increased as a result.
The traditional regulations seem to have been disregarded in Caesar’s
case. Nevertheless, Caesar’s manliness, by Roman standards, was called into
question simply by the rumors about his conduct in Bithynia. He had to
prove himself somehow.
The opportunity presented itself not long after when the Roman forces
under Thermus besieged the city of Mytilene; in the midst of the fighting,
Caesar saved the life of one his comrades, which earned him the coveted
corona civica, the citizen’s crown, a simple wreath of oak leaves, but highly
meaningful in the Roman military and society. It was regarded as one of the
greatest honors and as a sure symbol of manliness.
Yet, Caesar’s reputation never recovered from the scandal in Bithynia.
For the rest of his life, his opponents criticized him as a homosexual in
speech and verse. His colleague in the consulship of 59 BCE, M. Calpurnius
Bibulus, accused him of being Nicomedes’s “queen,” that is, of being the
passive partner in the relationship (which was even worse to Roman minds
than being in a same-sex affair in the first place). Bibulus was not the only
prominent Roman to place that label on Caesar, as many did so, even quite
openly in meetings of the Senate, and the orator Cicero, who sometimes
supported Caesar but often did not, wrote in several letters that Caesar had
dressed up as Venus, goddess of erotic love, to please Nicomedes. Even
when he became the most powerful man in Rome and celebrated his many
victories against foreign and domestic foes, his own soldiers lampooned
Caesar for the alleged relationship with the Bithynian king; in one of the
songs they sang around Caesar’s chariot during the triumphal procession in
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Homosexuality
honor of his successes in Gaul (roughly modern France), the soldiers said
that Nicomedes was, in fact, the greater conqueror, since he had “domi-
nated” Caesar himself. Always very distressed by such allegations, even in
humorous form, Caesar swore on oath that he had not engaged in a homo-
sexual relationship with Nicomedes.
His troops nonetheless disregarded such protestation (as did others) and
made a habit of singing their provocative songs about him. They had cus-
tomary permission, as did the common people of Rome, to lampoon prom-
inent persons in public, especially military commanders, by accusing them
of homosexuality, especially of being the “passive” partner in such a case.
Since it was such an insult to label a fighting man in this way, doing so
served to put the commander in his place, to knock him down a peg and
remind him of how much he really needed his men in order to win.
The tales about Caesar asserted that he “swung in both directions.” His
younger contemporary, Catullus, in some of his most widely read poetry,
scathingly exposed what he characterized as Caesar’s “lecherous” appetite
for young men and women (and the alleged diseases he had contracted as a
result of such insatiable lusts); one of Catullus’s poems raised the question
of whether Caesar was “white or black,” interpreted as code language for
“straight or gay.” The Elder Curio, a staunch political opponent of Caesar,
once remarked that the latter was not only a woman to every man but also
a man to every woman.
Despite the absence of hard-and-fast evidence to support Caesar’s con-
tinued homosexuality after his encounter with Nicomedes, Curio’s asser-
tion, nevertheless, reminds us about the sexual realities in Roman society
during the Republic: a Roman man might engage in homosexual activity,
but he could not openly live in a homosexual relationship of equal partners.
One could have sexual experiences with slaves, foreigners, or prostitutes
of the same sex, but there was only one accepted form of living together
and that was in marriage, between a man and a woman, and every Roman
man and every Roman woman was expected to get married and, hope-
fully, make more Roman babies. If two men, or two women for that mat-
ter, wanted to live together, they would have had to hide their love for one
another and pretend to be simply friends. Certainly, this sort of thing did
happen, and probably more commonly among the aristocracy of Caesar’s
day, which was becoming more and more averse to marriage and other tra-
ditional customs.
The label of homosexuality attached to Caesar indeed presented him with
some challenges, but none that he, in his unique position of power and in-
fluence, could not overcome. Some of the later emperors pretty openly en-
gaged in homosexuality as well but, again, were uniquely protected. This
seems to have been the case across the social level of wealthy and well-
connected Roman citizens, who developed the most interest in mimicking
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Honor
Greek sexual customs (and wrote most about it), and who often skirted
the laws that other citizens could not avoid. Nevertheless, in a culture that
prided itself on the most traditional masculine qualities, that expected all
of its men to be strong and domineering, the possibility of playing a pas-
sive role in a homosexual context caused deep disturbance. The Roman
prejudice against homosexuality never really went away, then, and the laws
against it remained on the books throughout the history of Rome, to be car-
ried on by those European cultures that continued Roman legal traditions.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Bibulus (d. 48
BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Coronae; Curio (d. 49 BCE); Marriage/Divorce; Nicomedes
(d. 75/74 BCE); Triumphs/Trophies
Further Reading
Bradley, K. R. 1994. Slavery and Society at Rome. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.
Cantarella, E. 1992. Bisexuality in the Ancient World. New Haven, CT: Yale Uni-
versity Press.
Ltd.
Hallett, J. 1997. Roman Sexualities. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Skinner, M. 2005. Sexuality in Greek and Roman Culture. Oxford, UK: Blackwell
Publishing.
Wiedemann, T. 1981. Greek and Roman Slavery. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity Press.
Williams, C. 2010. Roman Homosexuality. 2nd ed. Oxford, UK: Oxford Univer-
sity Press.
Honor
Julius Caesar lived in a culture founded on values of honor and shame.
Honor consisted not only of an individual’s or group’s sense of self-worth
but also of the recognition of that worth by one’s peers, one’s subordi-
nates, and especially one’s rivals; no one had honor without it being ac-
knowledged within the wider society. Across most Mediterranean cultures
of his time, and the Roman culture was no exception, men sought honor
through the exercise of authority, public and private, the defense of fam-
ily, friends, and dependents, the acquisition of prestige, and especially the
challenging of other men in a competition over honor. Not to do so or to
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Honor
fall short in doing so brought shame, an unacceptable diminishment of self-

worth within the social network, something Julius Caesar himself could
never abide.
Caesar spoke of honor a number of times in his own writings. In his ac-
count of the Gallic Wars, for instance, he speaks of the apprehension of the
Aeduan noble, Dumnorix, who did not wish to see his brother, Divitiacus,
restored by the Romans to his former locum honoris, that is, his position
of honor. In this case, Caesar employs the term in its particular meaning
as “office of state,” as Romans did when they referred to the consulship,
praetorship, and other elected magistracies as honores, positions of prestige
belonging to the cursus honorum, the “sequence of” or really “race for”
honors conferred by the voters as a mark of respect upon particular indi-
viduals. When, during the Civil War against his rivals, they began quarrel-
ing among themselves, believing that Caesar was almost beaten, they did
so over such “honors,” particularly Caesar’s position as Pontifex Maximus
(the most influential priesthood in Rome), which several felt entitled to as-
sume. In a related sense, within the Roman military, honor might describe
officer rank, as when Caesar elevated equestrians who came over to his side
during the Civil War to the rank of military tribune.
Honor might also apply to an extraordinary or special office conferred
upon someone, such as supreme command during a military campaign, a
signal proof of the esteem in which one was held by peers or followers. Cae-
sar’s greatest adversary in Gaul, Vercingetorix of the Arverni, received such
a command and sought to repay his supporters throughout the country for
that honor. Such honors in the ancient societies were not given lightly. For
example, when the Aulerci of northern Gaul were determined to resist the
advance of Caesar’s armies under his lieutenant Labienus, the tribesmen
selected for their general Camulogenus, drawing him out of retirement
despite his advanced age. They considered him most worthy of this honor
precisely because of his years of experience, his wisdom, and unique knowl-
edge of military matters (singularem scientiam rei militaris).
For a leader, honor might also mean tangible gifts and intangible, though
highly prized, titles. Caesar notes the honorifica received from himself and
the Senate by Ariovistus, chieftain of the Germanic Suebi tribe. He further
identifies these “awards” as recognition of Ariovistus’s kingship by Rome,
his designation as a Friend of Rome, and actual presents of a valuable na-
ture. In the Civil War, Caesar speaks of being acclaimed imperator (“victo-
rious commander”) by one’s troops as an honor. He says that among the
honors of a general was the right to sleep in a certain sort of tent and to be
announced by trumpets.
Groups or whole communities might also receive tangible and intangible
honors. During the Civil War, Caesar conferred such honors, for example,
on some of the towns in the Spanish provinces before his departure from
402
Honor
CAESAR AMONG THE NINE WORTHIES

In the early fourteenth century CE, French poet Jacques de Lon-
guyon composed a heroic tale featuring nine important leaders out
of history, one of whom was Julius Caesar. Alongside the Greek war-
riors, Hector and Alexander, the Hebrew warriors, David, Joshua,
and Judas Maccabeus, and the Christian warriors, Charlemagne, Ar-
thur, and Godfrey of Bouillon, Caesar became for the poet a sym-
bol of military prowess, heroism, leadership, and other virtues to be
revered by noble warriors of his own day. His catalog of nine exem-
plars permeated the literature and art of fourteenth, fifteenth, and
sixteenth-century Europe. In the artwork (sculpture, tapestries, etc.),
Caesar, not surprisingly, assumed the regalia and equipment of the
Holy Roman Emperors.
there. These probably included tax exemptions, gifts of various sorts, and
titles for local magistrates. Military personnel received honors in the same
way, such as awards for valor, tokens, or gifts.
It was Roman policy that allies gain gratia, dignitate, et honore, that
is, “influence, worthiness, and esteem.” So said Caesar when threaten-
ing Ariovistus to follow Roman directives regarding the Aedui, Rome’s
allies in south-central Gaul; the Roman army would protect them as part
of that policy of “honor.” This episode conveys the more typical, mod-
ern expectation of honor as high regard, repute, and so on. To the Ro-
mans, too, honor most often meant the respect one had for another. In
his account of the Civil War in Rome, Caesar speaks of the great regard
(magno in honore) in which he held the enemy officers who decided to
stay in his ranks, having been sent over to him simply as messengers. He
held in honor two brothers of the Allobrogian tribe, Roscillus and Aegus,
for their service in Gaul and during the Civil War. Again, Caesar spoke of
sparing and protecting the tribe of the Bellovaci honoris causa Divitiacus,
that is, out of his respect for his ally, Divitiacus, who had requested that
favor. On another occasion, he writes that he always held the tribes of the
Aedui and the Remi in foremost esteem (Aeduos et Remos, quos praecipuo
semper honore Caesar habuit). The anonymous author who completed
Caesar’s account of the Gallic Wars asserted that, right to the end of the
conflict, Caesar treated the Gallic communities honorifice, “with respectful
consideration.”
The elite of any society, especially the Roman, held the place of honor
above all their fellow citizens; indeed, honor was not something that others
could easily attain, except by great service to the community. Among the
403
Honor
Gallic peoples, Caesar speaks of only two groups as being numbered among
those who possessed the special dignity of honor, the priests (the Druids)
and the warrior-cavalry. The Druids especially received the greatest respect
or honor from their young pupils, who themselves came from the noblest
families of Gaul.
Caesar understood well what it meant to fight for honor’s sake. In his ac-
count of the Civil War, written to justify his attack on his Roman rivals, he
records how he had always assisted and favored the “honor and dignity” of
Pompey, who had become his chief rival among Rome’s generals. He later
complained to messengers sent by Pompey about his own loss of honor in
not being allowed to stand for the consulship in absentia, which he thought
had been agreed to by Pompey and others in Rome; he went on to say that
he had borne that disgrace with equanimity, which, in fact, only served to
increase his honor. Having convened the Senate in the aftermath of his ini-
tial successes in Italy, Caesar asserted that he had sought no extraordinary
honor nor even some extra honor upon his return to Rome, only, again,
a legitimate chance at running for consular office like any other qualified
citizen. He had even been willing to lose more face when he had himself
proposed that both he and Pompey disband their armies so as to pose no
threat to themselves or the Republic.
In the aftermath of the Civil War, Caesar’s ultimate victory brought
heaps of honors upon him from the Senate. These included titles, such
as Pater Patriae (Father of his Country), privileges, such as sitting with
the two consuls as their unofficial colleague or the renaming of his birth
month as “Julius,” and tangible objects, such as statues of him in the tem-
ples, his face on Roman coins, or the redesigning of his Palatine mansion
to resemble a temple. All this contributed to his overall sense of honor, as
defined above.
Caesar’s younger contemporary, the historian Sallust, asserted that
honor ought to be bestowed for virtus, which we might translate as excel-
lence in terms of Roman character and traditions. Certainly, Romans across
the generations had attained such respect or standing precisely for uphold-
ing the best in “Romanness.” By Sallust’s, and Caesar’s, own time, how-
ever, they both knew that honor itself, by whatever definition, had become
a prize acquired by whatever means and defended at any price.
See also: Aedui; Ariovistus; Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum
(Caesar); Dignitas; Gloria/Glory; Imperator; Labienus (d. 45 BCE);
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Pontifex Maximus;
Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
404
Hostis
Earl, D. 1961. The Political Thought of Sallust. Cambridge: Cambridge University

Press.
Woodman, A. J. 2008. Sallust: Catiline’s War, The Jugurthine War, Histories. New
Hostis
Since the expulsion of the Tarquin kings and the foundation of the Repub-
lic in the late sixth century BCE, the Romans regarded the defense of the Re-
public as the moral responsibility of all private citizens against any would-be
tyrants. Hence, acts of violence and even murder committed against fellow
citizens might be justified by branding one’s victim a hostis, an enemy of
the public welfare. When the state took this stance against a citizen, such
a public enemy was placed legally outside the community, indeed, stripped
of the rights of citizens. An official hostis decree left the former citizen open
not only to the coercive force of the state but also to violent action at the
hands of private individuals, with impunity. In the Late Republic, a number
of prominent Romans found themselves declared public enemies, includ-
ing Julius Caesar.
In 88 BCE, when Caesar was about twelve years old, he witnessed an as-
tonishing turn of events. His uncle, the famous general Marius, had sup-
ported a radical tribune of the plebs named Sulpicius in a violent political
confrontation with the consuls, one of whom was Marius’s old lieutenant,
Sulla. Sulla retaliated by marching his army into Rome, chasing out Sulpi-
cius, Marius, and others of their stripe, and arranging (whether by senato-
rial decree or popular vote is unclear) for them to be declared hostes, public
enemies. This gave Sulla the legal right to unravel everything that Sulpicius
had done in office, to execute him, and to hunt down the other hostes by
means of officials and vigilantes. Caesar’s uncle Marius, for example, and
the latter’s young son, fled through Italy and across the sea to North Africa
to escape capture and death.
About a year later, Sulla himself was declared hostis, when Marius joined
forces with Caesar’s future father-in-law, Cinna (who was also under such a
decree), and seized control of Rome through military intimidation; in this
case, they not only rescinded Sulla’s political policies but also confiscated
his property, destroyed his home, and technically removed him from the
important command against King Mithradates of Pontus.
Sulla ignored these decisions and vowed revenge on Marius, Cinna, and
other enemies; he made good on that beginning in 83 BCE through a new
405
Hostis
Civil War; the government in Rome added his top associates at the time
to their list of hostes. After military victory over his opponents, Sulla issued
lists of proscribed citizens (wanted dead, not alive) that took the place of
further hostis decrees.
Roughly thirty years later, Caesar faced the revival of the hostis decree,
with himself as the target. One of the consuls of 50 BCE, C. Claudius Mar-
cellus, proposed that, if Caesar did not immediately relinquish his military
command in Gaul (roughly modern France), he should be declared a pub-
lic enemy. At the time, this did not gain the support of the Senate. Mar-
cellus, refusing to give up, overstepped his own authority as consul and
approached Caesar’s chief rival, Pompey, urging him to defend the Republic
against, what he considered, the impending aggression of Caesar. Pompey
agreed.
About a month later, on the first of January 49 BCE, the Optimates, led
by Metellus Scipio, and the intimidating troops of his son-in-law, Pompey,
finally persuaded the Senate, despite the fervent vetoes of plebeian tribunes,
like Marc Antony, to declare Caesar a hostis. This decree, and the way in
which those tribunes friendly to Caesar were driven out of Rome on pain of
death, gave him the constitutional excuses he needed to wage war against
the Republic.
By making him a public enemy, his opponents got exactly what they
had feared, a civil war that ended in dictatorship for Caesar. In addition,
he seems to have learned a lesson missed by his opponents. Whereas they,
particularly Pompey, declared that anyone who was not siding with them
would be treated as hostes, Caesar refused to regard anyone as a hostis unless
he or she were actively engaged against him. He, thereby, won over many
more supporters and the neutrality of thousands of other citizens; his rivals,
on the other hand, conjured up images of Sulla’s proscriptions once more,
terrifying people from their camp instead of into it.
Formally declaring a fellow citizen hostis began as a dubious legal weapon
to justify elimination of political opponents. In the last century of the Re-
public, such hostis decrees provoked more civil strife than they prevented.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE);
Curio (d. 49 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Marcellus cousins; Marius
(ca.157–86 BCE); Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE); Optimates; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Proscriptions; Rex; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Abbott, F. F. 1963. A History and Description of Roman Political Institutions. 3rd
ed. New York: Biblo and Tannen.
Michigan Press.
406
Hostis
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
University Press.
407
I
Ides of March
Ides of March
Perhaps the most famous date in the annals of Roman history from the per-
spective of the modern world, the Ides of March, 44 BCE witnessed the as-
sassination of Julius Caesar by the Conspiracy of the Liberators.
In their calendar, the Romans gave special names to several days of the
month. One of these was the Idus (written “Ides” in English), which fell
on the thirteenth day of most months, but on the fifteenth day in March
(Martius), May (Maius), July (Quinctilis, later Iulius), and October (Oc-
tober). Since the Roman calendar during the Republic was founded on the
phases of the moon (from New Moon to New Moon), it is likely that the
Ides commemorated the appearance of the Full Moon in the night sky.
The Romans used the Ides of each month for a variety of purposes. For
instance, teachers collected tuition fees and moneylenders collected interest
payments due on that day. In the month of March particularly, the Ides also
witnessed religious observances (especially sacrifices) connected to several
Roman deities, including Mars, of course, but also Anna Perenna and Jupiter.
Given these details, the Conspirators may have considered the religious
significance of eliminating Caesar on the Ides of March. Yet, they seem to
have chosen the date rather because of mounting animosity and last min-
ute convenience. After all, Caesar had been back in Rome since October
45 BCE, having concluded all the campaigns of the Civil War against his ac-
tive adversaries. For months, there were no serious stirrings against him.
Then, in February 44 BCE, the subservient Senate declared Caesar Dicta-
tor Perpetuus, for life, and his friend, Marc Antony, had gone even further
Denarius minted in 42 BCE by

M. Junius Brutus and
L. Plaetorius Cestianus to
commemorate the assassination
of Julius Caesar. The reverse of
this silver coin displays the
inscription (EID MAR) for the
Ides of March, as well as
the pileus (cap of liberty)
between two daggers (symbols
of the tyrant’s destruction).
(Splash News/Corbis)
411
Ides of March
by attempting to recognize Caesar as king of Rome. The Ides of March

marked the passing of one month’s time since these more problematic in-
cidents began, and this might have had something to do with the choice of
that date; our ancient sources do suggest implicitly a connection between
the extraordinary honors and power granted to Caesar and the forming of
the plot against his life. Perhaps also, the Conspirators needed a month’s
time after these critical events simply to arrange matters.
The Imperial biographer Suetonius, writing over a century-and-a-half
later, noted that other dates were also hashed over by the Conspirators, es-
pecially the possibility of carrying out the assassination in the month of July,
during the election proceedings for new consuls. During such elections,
the voters, assembled in the Campus Martius (Field of Mars), ascended to
a voting platform by way of wooden ramps (the Romans referred to them
as bridges, pontes) specially erected for the purpose; as a voter crossed the
ramp, officials and their assistants standing below would hand up a ballot
to him, and he would then mark it according to his choices, proceeding
across to the platform, where he would deposit the ballot in a ballot box.
The plotters thought they might ambush Caesar while he was alone going
across one of the bridges, some pushing him off, the rest grabbing him
from below and killing him; since many of the Conspirators held public of-
fice themselves at the time, they would have had unrestricted access to the
voting area.
The Death of Julius Caesar. Engraving by J. C. Armytage (d. 1897) after an original
painting by J.-L. Gerome (1824–1904). Caesar’s corpse lies at the foot of Pompey’s
statue as the triumphant Liberators begin to depart, brandishing their bloody
daggers. (Wellcome Library, London)
412
Ides of March
They knew, however, that Caesar, in his capacity as dictator, had altered
the dates of elections more than once, so they could not even be sure if
these would be held when they were supposed to be or not. Even more
pressing, Caesar planned to leave Rome on March 18 for his military ex-
pedition against the Parthian Empire, so perhaps he would not even be
present in Rome to preside over the consular elections, if they indeed
took place at the proper time. The Conspirators might have waited to see
if the Parthian warriors did their dirty work for them and killed Caesar
in battle, but they seem to have never even entertained this idea; like so
many others across the empire, they must have come to believe in Caesar’s
invincibility in battle. The Conspirators might have waited until Caesar’s
return from the Parthian campaign to remove him from power, but they
evidently grew impatient.
Apparently, Caesar himself supplied his murderers with the date of his
own assassination. It was he who ordered a meeting of the Senate for the
Ides of March, and the Conspirators latched on to that date, and that gath-
ering, as most suitable to their purpose. They could all be there without
anyone suspecting why; they would be able to make a grand show to their
fellow aristocrats of the “elimination of tyranny” and the “restoration of
liberty” (as they saw it). Even the location of the meeting, the Curia (Sen-
ate House) built by Caesar’s rival, Pompey, as part of the latter’s grand
theater complex, seemed to beckon action; they could kill Caesar right in
front of Pompey’s statue, sacrificing him to the latter’s ghost. Perhaps they
were also encouraged by the fact that the evening before, one of the Con-
spirators had heard Caesar remark at dinner that he wished for the kind of
death that comes unexpectedly. Lastly, the strained efforts of Dec. Junius
Brutus Albinus, one of the Conspirators, in personally escorting Caesar and
making sure that he showed up to the Senate meeting as planned, illustrate
both the fixation of the Conspirators on the date selected and the concern
they felt, as related by the Imperial biographer Plutarch, that any further
delay might lead to the discovery of their plot.
The date did not go unnoticed by others who warned Caesar of its ill-
omened nature. For example, on the occasion of a religious sacrifice at
which he was presiding, one of the augurs (the priests charged with ob-
serving the messages from the god Jupiter as communicated through the
behavior of birds) told Caesar straight out that he faced great danger until
the Ides of March passed. Caesar disregarded this and other omens, and,
in fact, mocked that same augur, whose name was Spurinna; while walking
into the Senate meeting, Caesar shouted to him tauntingly that he was just
fine, even though the Ides of March had come, to which Spurinna replied
that the day was not over yet.
Not only had Caesar been urged “to beware the Ides of March” by pro-
fessional interpreters of the gods’ will, but his own wife, Calpurnia, had also
413
Ides of March
done so, most strenuously, because of the horrifying nightmares that had
haunted her the night before. She had envisioned herself holding her hus-
band in her arms, his body riddled with stab wounds. Caesar himself also
experienced strange dreams the night before the Ides (pridie Idus Martias,
the Romans would have said), though his seemed more positive. Still, his
wife’s restlessness, and the sudden bursting open of the doors and windows
of their bedroom in the middle of the night, made it difficult for him to
enjoy a full night’s sleep. By the time morning came, Calpurnia begged her
husband not to leave the house and definitely not to meet with the Senate
until the next day.
Caesar listened to the concerns of his wife and even summoned experts
in divination to consult on the wishes of the gods; their sacrifices and ob-
servations confirmed that something was seriously amiss. All this persuaded
Caesar that perhaps he should send for Marc Antony, his lieutenant and
friend, at the time serving as co-consul with Caesar, and cancel the meet-
ing of the Senate. That is, until Brutus Albinus arrived at Caesar’s house, as
scheduled, to accompany the dictator to the Curia of Pompey; it was cus-
tomary in Roman society for members of the elite to always have an escort
of friends or clients (those who owed their patron for favors) when out in
public, and especially when going to or from official functions. As noted
above, Brutus Albinus was secretly one of the Conspirators, but he had also
been an officer of Caesar’s for many years and, hence, an individual trusted
by him. Brutus Albinus did everything he could to convince Caesar that his
worries about the Ides of March were totally unfounded and that the latter
should not allow the bad dreams of his hysterical wife to interfere with im-
portant matters of state; indeed, he went further by assuring Caesar that the
Senate would, that very day, declare the latter “king of the Roman Empire
outside of Italy.” If he did not attend to this business on that day, so Brutus
Albinus insisted, Caesar might derail this initiative and make enemies by in-
sulting the Senate with a last-minute cancellation and put his friends among
the senators in an awkward position.
Caesar finally gave in to these arguments. As he left his home, the Domus
Publica (official residence of Caesar in his capacity as Pontifex Maximus) lo-
cated at the eastern end of the Roman Forum, he found himself surrounded
by crowds of people; again, it was customary for friends, clients, and pe-
titioners to wait outside the homes of Roman aristocrats for the salutatio,
visiting time in the morning hours. Such visitors might simply walk along
with the prominent individual until he reached his destination (thereby
demonstrating their partisanship for him or his cause) or solicit action or
favors from him (making their own promises in return). As dictator, Cae-
sar had even more such hangers-on than the other members of the Senate.
According to Suetonius, a slave tried to speak with Caesar immediately
as he walked out of his house, but the number of people around made that
414
Ides of March
impossible; the slave then ran into the house to speak with Calpurnia and
asked her to protect him until Caesar’s return, since his master (we do not
know who) had given him secret information to share only with Caesar.
Both Suetonius and Plutarch relate that someone from the crowd managed
to hand Caesar a note detailing the conspiracy against him and instructing
him to read it himself and not let the note fall into anyone else’s hands;
Plutarch identified the informant as Artemidorus of Cnidos, a Greek ex-
pert in philosophy and an associate of M. Junius Brutus (symbolic leader of
the Conspiracy). Regardless of who it was, however, Caesar never had the
chance to look the message over, though he came close to doing so several
times, because of the pressures from all those petitioners.
In the meantime, the Conspirators, with the exception of Brutus, had
gathered at first light at the house of C. Cassius Longinus (the true or-
ganizer of the plot), under the pretext of escorting him and his teenage
son through the Roman Forum in the ceremony of the toga virilis; when
a Roman boy reached the age of manhood (considered as age sixteen or
seventeen at this time), his father and the latter’s friends, and other male
members of his family, led him into the Forum to register him officially as
a citizen and formally change his clothing from that of a child to that of
a grown-up. Again, this provided a perfectly innocent cover for the Con-
spirators, who after the ceremony, proceeded across town to the Curia of
Pompey, where they met Brutus. A number of them who held official posi-
tions as praetors (judicial officials), such as Brutus and Cassius themselves,
allowed petitioners to approach them on a variety of legal matters; they,
thus, carried on the business of state outside the meeting building, quite
calmly on the surface, as though they had nothing at all to worry about.
They felt assured of the secrecy of their plans, not knowing, as later Ro-
mans did (and us) that the news of the plot had leaked out in small ways.
Some of the Conspirators appear to have been more nervous than others
(e.g., C. Servilius Casca, who may have been tasked with striking the first
blow) and the odd behavior of some of the assembled senators, suggesting
that they were in on the secret and might let something slip, only increased
the tension. The delay in Caesar’s arrival made this worse, especially since
the Conspirators were not informed of the reasons for it. It was already
sometime between ten and eleven o’clock in the morning (the fifth hour,
according to Roman reckoning) when Caesar and Brutus Albinus started
out together for the Curia of Pompey; it might have been after noon by the
time they actually got there. Marc Antony greeted Caesar and would have
entered the Curia with him had it not been for C. Trebonius, one of the
Conspirators, who deliberately kept Antony outside with a long conversa-
tion, supposedly about important matters.
Caesar thus entered unprotected, since he had dismissed his traditional
bodyguard as a demonstration of his trust for the senators. Many of them
415
Ides of March
greeted Caesar and led him to his seat, as the other senators stood up to
recognize his arrival. Then, Brutus and the other Conspirators took the
lead in placing themselves all around him as supporters of the petition of
Tillius Cimber (also in on the plot), who grabbed Caesar by the knee and
begged him to restore his brother from exile. When Caesar refused and
resisted this peer pressure by standing up in anger, Cimber grabbed the
dictator by the shoulders and pulled down the latter’s toga from around
his neck, a signal for Casca, who was standing behind Caesar, to pull out a
dagger and make a thrust. He might have died right then had Casca jabbed
Caesar’s throat directly instead of hitting him closer to the rib cage. This
gave Caesar the opportunity to resist Casca, but then the other Conspira-
tors pressed forward with their daggers, striking one after the other and
all at once, often injuring each other in the confusion. Disoriented, Caesar
seems to have given up when he saw Brutus, for whom he had great affec-
tion, also about to stab him; he covered himself in his cloak from head to
toe, collapsing under the onslaught at the foot of Pompey’s statue. After a
few more moments, he was dead.
Despite the initial “victory” of the Conspirators on that ill-fated day, it
did not take long for the tide of public opinion and power politics to turn
against them, and the day that they heralded as one of “liberation from
tyranny” eventually became a day of infamy in the Roman calendar by
decree of the Roman Senate. That body voted that never again would a
meeting of theirs take place on the Ides of March; more seriously, they de-
clared it an ill-omened “Day of Parricide,” that is, perpetually cursed by
the murder of a “near relative,” since Caesar was regarded as “Father of
His Country.”
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Brutus (ca. 85–42
BCE); Calendar; Calpurnia; Campus Martius; Capitoline Hill; Cassius
(ca. 85–42 BCE); Clothing; Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Dicta-
tor; Dreams/Dream Interpretation; Elections; Festivals; Haruspicy; Liber-
tas/Dominatio; Omens; Parthia; Plutarch’s Lives; Pompey (106–48 BCE);
Rex; Senate; Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE); Theater of Pompey; Trebonius
(d. 43 BCE)
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
416
Illyricum
University Press.
Ltd.
University Press.
Scullard, H. H. 1981. Festivals and Ceremonies of the Roman Republic. London:
Thames and Hudson.
University Press.
Illyricum
This province of the Roman Empire stretched along the eastern coast of the
Adriatic Sea, including territory that roughly falls within the modern coun-
tries of Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro, and Albania. The
Illyrians, after whom the Romans named the region, were a confederation
of tribal populations, including the Delmatae (Dalmatians) and Liburni,
under the domination of the Illyrii; they had a long history of conflict with
the Greeks and a talent for piracy.
Piracy is what brought the Romans to the eastern side of the Adriatic.
Greeks had established commercial colonies along that coast as far back as
the seventh century BCE; in the third century BCE, those colonies and the
maritime shipping which was their life’s blood were threatened by pirates
from several coastal tribes, operating under the protection of the newly es-
tablished Illyrian monarchy. Since the Romans had a stake in Greek com-
merce and allies among the Greek communities, the armed forces of the
Republic were given the task of shutting down Illyrian power by military
means, which they succeeded in doing in several wars during the third and
second centuries BCE. The Romans did not want to become too committed
in the area, however, so they established only a sort of protectorate along
the eastern side of the Adriatic, just enough military presence to guaran-
tee the safety of shipping there. By the end of the second century, though,
Rome’s permanent involvement in the affairs of nearby Greece made it
417
Illyricum
Ruins of the ancient town of Salona and the mountains beyond, near Split, Croatia,
part of what the Romans called Illyricum. Governed by Caesar and the site of fighting
between his faction and that of Pompey, the region later produced some of Rome’s
greatest emperors. (Andrey Omelyanchuk/Dreamstime.com)
necessary to treat Illyricum as a regular province, with a governor aided by

Roman and local auxiliary troops.
The Senate and People of Rome assigned Julius Caesar to govern the ter-
ritory in 59 BCE. According to available evidence, he actually spent very lit-
tle time there; he had simultaneously been assigned to govern the provinces
of Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul, where the real military action was, and
such action is what Caesar was after as governor. In one of his own writ-
ings, he notes that the most exciting development in Illyricum, besides the
routine collection of taxes and dispensation of Roman justice, took place in
the mid-50s BCE when the Pirustae, a tribe living outside Illyricum, raided
the Roman province. Caesar went there personally from his headquarters in
Northern Italy, gathered together auxiliary armed forces from the local Il-
lyrian population, and prepared for an attack on the Pirustae across the bor-
der. The leaders of the latter prevented this attack by coming to terms with
Rome, agreeing to negotiate and pay for the damage done by the raiders.
Despite Caesar’s clout in Illyricum, many of the communities there, es-
pecially those belonging to the Liburnian and Dalmatian tribes, took the
side of his adversary, Pompey, during the Civil War; in 49 BCE, they pro-
vided, not surprisingly, ships and crews for Pompey’s navy. The Roman citi-
zens who lived in the province, however, merchants primarily, especially in
the town of Salonae (modern Solin, Croatia), where they were numerous
418
Impeachment
enough to form a conventus (a sort of commercial association), remained

loyal to Caesar and in hard fighting survived a siege and drove out one of
Pompey’s commanders in the process. Within a year, Caesar’s forces had
regained control of all Illyricum; most of its various populations had worn
themselves down in bitter feuding over which side of the Roman civil strife
to take, some having been brought to heel by Caesar’s quaestor, Cornificius.
When Caesar had fought against Pompey in Greece, he had considered,
if things turned sour, using Illyricum as an overland escape route back to
Italy. By mid-48 BCE, many of Pompey’s troops and commanders were con-
sidering the same thing, as events had turned sour for their side instead. To
prevent their plan, Caesar ordered one of his top lieutenants, Gabinius, to
reinforce Cornificius with fresh troops from Italy. Gabinius, however, met
with tremendous resistance from the local populations, who defeated and
forced him into Salonae (still loyal to Caesar), where he died of disease near
the end of the year. Cornificius, learning that more of the local peoples
were turning over to Pompey’s side, which had a sizable fleet in the area,
then desperately called upon another of Caesar’s top lieutenants, Vatinius,
to come with naval support from Italy. The latter did so, under difficult
conditions, and thoroughly defeated Pompey’s forces.
Caesar penalized communities that had sided with his enemies, like the
Greek island-town of Issa (modern Vis in Croatia), which lost its indepen-
dence and fell under the control of Salonae; Salonae and other loyal com-
munities received various rewards from Caesar. Illyricum thus remained in
Caesar’s hands, and his successors, especially the Emperors of Rome, con-
tinued his efforts at bringing the local peoples under firm Roman control.
Illyricum then became the jumping-off point for further Imperial expan-
sion into southeastern Europe.
See also: Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Dacians; Gaul
Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina; Piracy;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces; Vatinius
Further Reading
Stipcevic, A. 1977. The Illyrians: History and Culture. Park Ridge, NJ: Noyes Press.
Wilkes, J. 1992. The Illyrians. London: Wiley-Blackwell.
Impeachment
In modern democracies, there are mechanisms for the removal of elected
officials before the expiration of their term of office, often modeled on ar-
rangements established in the U.S. Constitution. Among the most seri-
ous of these is the process of impeachment, whereby the president of the
United States is brought before the Senate and placed on trial for behavior
419
Impeachment
regarded as jeopardizing his official functions and perhaps even the nation
as a whole. The system of the Roman Republic had no such mechanism for-
mally, but, in times of crisis, and especially in the lifetime of Julius Caesar,
members of the Senate might call for what they termed abrogatio imperii,
the voting away of a magistrate’s powers.
Our ancient sources indicate that during the course of the Republic, on
a few occasions, the Assembly of Centuries, the voters called together as if
for military muster, abrogated the imperium, the right to command, of of-
ficers, on the grounds that these had engaged in military misconduct on
the battlefield. In such cases, the Senate played the role of verifying the
charges, backed up the People’s decision, and removed the officer from
further command. Yet, no similar process existed for ending a magistrate’s
authority when he misused his powers in the civilian sphere. Certainly, the
Romans already had in place a colleague for every official; that colleague
could veto his fellow’s actions if they needed to be stopped. There were
even higher-ranking magistrates who could veto the actions of those below
them, and thereby keep them in line. But what if the official’s actions were
so dangerous in the civilian sphere that he deserved to be, not just stopped,
but removed from office altogether?
This happened, in fact, to Caesar’s father-in-law, L. Cornelius Cinna.
After proposing a particular reform bill to the voters in Rome, which pro-
voked a violent response from opponents, his political rivals chased him out
of the city. They then convened the Senate, which decreed the removal of
Cinna from his consulship, the highest regular magistracy in the land, and
further stripped him of his citizenship; they even declared a replacement,
a suffect or fill-in consul for the remainder of his term. As justification for
their decree, the senators accused Cinna of fomenting a slave uprising (a
specious charge) and especially of bringing danger to the city he had sworn,
as a consul, to keep safe.
Cinna rejected these accusations and denied the Senate, acting unilater-
ally without input from the People, had the right to take from him what
the voters had bestowed upon him; he gathered an army of citizen-soldiers
to fight back against a Senate which had, in his and his troops’ view, done
something illegal and in contravention of the sovereignty of the People.
The abrogation or impeachment of Cinna was thus met with a mili-
tary response, which resulted in his takeover of power in Rome for the
next three years. His son-in-law, Julius Caesar, faced a similar constitu-
tional challenge. In January 62 BCE, Caesar began his term as praetor by
using his office to take revenge on those Optimates who had accused him
of involvement in the Conspiracy of Catiline the year before. He also sup-
ported other politicians engaged in similar behavior, especially Q. Caecilius
Metellus Nepos, tribune of the plebs, who had placed the former consul
Cicero on the defensive for his handling of the Catilinarian affair; Metellus
420
Impeachment
Nepos castigated Cicero for putting Catiline’s co-conspirators, all high-

ranking Roman citizens, to death without due process and dishonored him
by preventing Cicero from making the traditional farewell address at the
conclusion of his consulship.
Soon, these and other actions persuaded the Senate to decree the re-
moval of Metellus Nepos from office; they did the same to Caesar because
he continued to fight within the Senate for the tribune and his controver-
sial measures. Whereas Metellus Nepos left town, Caesar remained, how-
ever, and did not stop performing his praetorian duties. For this, the Senate
threatened to use force against him; finally, he made a show of resigning
his magistracy by dismissing his official bodyguards and giving up his of-
ficial robes.
The impeachment of Caesar in this way was met by a violent response
from the People of Rome. Promising to restore him to office, crowds gath-
ered outside Caesar’s house, which was located at the eastern edge of the
Roman Forum. The Senate convened to address this tense situation; when
they discovered that Caesar was not encouraging the crowds but instead
urging them to tone things down, the senators sent some of their number
to him and conducted him to the Curia (Senate House). There, the Senate
reversed its earlier decision and placed Caesar back in the praetorship. He
stayed in Rome only a short time afterward; once he straightened out a few
matters, he hurried off to his provincial command in Further Spain (south-
ern Spain today), where he hoped to remain out of reach of any repetition
of impeachment proceedings against him.
Indeed, Caesar was dogged later in his career by attempts to bring him
to trial for actions committed by him while in office. We might still use for
these cases the term “impeachment,” though we are no longer dealing with
removal from office in the strict sense but rather the practical negation of
his legitimacy in office. So, for instance, two praetors and one tribune of the
plebs established inquiries into Caesar’s conduct as consul of 59 BCE. Since
Caesar was holding a provincial governorship at the time of these inquiries,
if they had succeeded in proving wrongdoing on his part, he would have
suffered abrogatio imperii. Caesar was saved by the reluctance of the Sen-
ate to take action and the support of other tribunes of the plebs who agreed
with his plea that his mission as provincial governor took precedence over
any trial.
Nevertheless, Caesar’s key rivals, especially M. Porcius Cato, never gave
up on their threat to bring Caesar to trial for official misconduct. He
himself recognized this fully, and acknowledged it as one of his principal
reasons for engaging in Civil War against the Republic. Like his father-
in-law, Cinna, Caesar would not allow the Senate to remove him from
office or make his official actions illegitimate through any process of
impeachment.
421
Imperator
See also: Army; Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Citizenship; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Popular Assemblies; Senate
Further Reading
Abbott, F. F. 1963. A History and Description of Roman Political Institutions. 3rd
ed. New York: Biblo and Tannen.
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
University Press.
Imperator
While serving as governor of Further Spain (roughly southern Spain) in
61 BCE, Julius Caesar took advantage of the rather broadly defined author-
ity of that position to wage war against tribes living beyond his provincial
mandate, such as the Callaici and Lusitani (who, respectively, inhabited ter-
ritories today identified as Galicia in northwestern Spain and Portugal). In
honor of his victories in these campaigns of expansionism, Caesar received
his first salutation as imperator. Conferred, as was traditional, by one’s sol-
diers rather than Senate or Popular Assemblies, the salutation as imperator
served as an overt demonstration on the part of Caesar’s troops of their
own recognition of his military achievements as “victorious commander,”
as a “winner” in battle rather than a “loser.” In his own writings, Caesar re-
minds us that the term imperator might be employed within Roman culture
in this most famous sense and in several others as well.
Imperator derived from the Latin verb imperare (to command, order,
control, or rule), and thus might simply apply to any commander in charge
of a military operation. In his own account of his wars in Gaul (roughly
modern France, Belgium, western Germany, and southwestern Holland),
for instance, Caesar most commonly uses the term in this generic sense. He
422
Imperator
refers to his famous uncle Marius as imperator, typically translated in this

case simply as commander, even though it might also be assumed that it
means victorious commander, since it is referring to Marius’s success over
Germanic invaders. Later in the same passage, Caesar refers to himself when
discussing officio imperatoris, “the duty of a general.” In the following pas-
sage, he speaks of the iudicium imperatoris, “the commander’s prerogative
to make judgments” in warfare. This was very important within the Roman
military, since Caesar found it necessary on another occasion to scold his
men for believing that they knew better than “their imperator.” Caesar’s
soldiers often rallied in conspectu imperatoris, “under the eyes of their com-
mander,” and rushed to aid “their imperator” when he was endangered.
Sometimes, however, they pushed themselves even harder when “their im-
perator” was absent in order to impress him afterward, such as during the
campaign against the Sontiates, one of the tribes in southwestern Gaul. Fi-
nally, as in the case of the aquilifer (standard-bearer) of the Tenth Legion,
Roman soldiers urged their comrades to fulfill their officium imperatori et
rei publicae, that is, “their duty to their commander-in-chief and to the
Republic itself,” which indicates to us the close link for the rank-and-file
troops between the person of their leader and patriotism to their state.
Subordinate commanders to the general in charge might also be de-
scribed in terms akin to imperator. Caesar does so himself when describing
one of his principal lieutenants, Aurunculeius Cotta, not only as perform-
ing the duties of a common soldier to his general but also as discharging
the duties of a supreme commander in addressing and rallying the cohorts
under his immediate command. Another of Caesar’s principal lieutenants,
in fact the most senior of them, Labienus, often found himself in a position
where he had to encourage his troops to display the same manliness as they
always did when their victorious general, their imperator, was on hand.
“CAESAR” AS A TITLE
Julius Caesar left his name to his adopted son, Octavian, who called
himself C. Julius Caesar and later Caesar Augustus. The word “Cae-
sar” was thus incorporated into the official nomenclature of every
emperor of Rome as a recognition that all emperors were formally
adopted into the family of Julius Caesar. They often designated their
successors (or junior partners, from the late third century onward) as
“Caesar.” In the Eastern Roman or Byzantine Empire, they even con-
ferred the title on relatives or very close associates upon whom they
relied.
423
Imperator
Perhaps more surprisingly, Caesar even refers to all commanding gener-

als, regardless of culture, as imperatores. For instance, in the seventh book
of his commentaries, he describes Vercingetorix, his greatest Gallic adver-
sary, as imperator, approved in his supreme command by the votes of every
single fighting man of Gaul. On another occasion, Caesar distinguishes
Vercingetorix from other generals (reliquorum imperatorum); while they
suffer a loss of authority among their soldiers and supporters because of
their failures, loyalty and devotion to Vercingetorix seemed only to increase
as a result of the reverses he came up against. Caesar was not alone among
the Romans of his generation in recognizing generals from other cultures
as imperatores. His contemporary, the historian Sallust, just to give another
example, described Adherbal and Jugurtha, two kings of Numidia (roughly
modern Algeria and northern Libya), as such.
In his extensive writing about the Civil War he waged against his political
enemies in Rome, Caesar again employs the term imperator in the expected
ways. He speaks of how, at the start of the conflict, he addressed the one le-
gion he had on hand, the Thirteenth, encouraging the men of that unit to
support the esteem and dignity of the general who had commanded them to
nine years of successes; here, in other words, he deftly combined several of
the connotations of imperator, as general, as hero, as winner, as deserving of
special consideration by his men, as possessing special renown worth fight-
ing for. Later, when he approached the northern Italian city of Auximum
(modern Osimo), the inhabitants announced that they would not deny ac-
cess to their town to an imperator such as Caesar (i.e., again, a victor and a
general). The significance personally to Caesar of the privileges of being an
imperator comes out in his protest to Afranius and Petreius, lieutenants in
Spain of his chief rival, Pompey; Caesar asserted that he had started this Civil
War because he had not been allowed what had always been allowed typically
in the homecoming of an imperator, that is, to disband his army, suffer no
disgrace, and perhaps even gain some extra reward for his accomplishments.
The account of the Civil War contains more of Caesar’s own definition
of an imperator’s duty, sometimes with an unconventional twist. Whereas
most Romans, for example, associated the imperator with military victory
acquired through massive destruction of enemy forces, Caesar famously
sought diplomatic and merciful means to end conflict with his own people.
So, during the campaign against Afranius and Petreius, he asserted that it
was not less a general’s responsibility to win by skill (which included non-
violent methods) than simply by the sword. On the other hand, Caesar
criticized Pompey (who held the rank of imperator, and, indeed, had been
hailed as such in the sense of “victorious one” many more times than Cae-
sar had during his career) for holding his men back from the charge during
the Battle of Pharsalus; a proper imperator, so says Caesar, encourages the
warrior spirit among his men and must do nothing to retard it.
424
Imperator
So, Caesar was not the only imperator in the context of Rome’s Civil
War. Pompey, too, deserved the great respect and devotion of his soldiers
and officers. One of these, Petreius, reminded his troops of this fact when
he begged them during the Spanish campaign not to betray either himself
or “their imperator Pompey” to the enemy. Echoed by Petreius’s colleague,
Afranius, the latter referred to the soldiers preserving their faith (fidem) to-
ward “their imperator.” Like Caesar, Pompey held the title of imperator in
high regard; on one occasion in western Greece, the latter told his lieuten-
ants that he would consider his title worthless and nullified if he failed to
defeat Caesar. In the aftermath of his victory over Caesar at Dyrrachium,
Pompey received the salutation as imperator yet again from his troops, but
in his modesty and in his respect for Roman tradition, which up to that
time recognized the use of this title only in wars against foreigners, he re-
fused to include it in his letters nor to identify himself as a victor in this
instance by the usual practice of placing laurel wreaths on his insignia of
office, the fasces.
Such regard for traditions was breaking down, however, especially among
the rank-and-file troops, so that some of Caesar’s own subordinates in the
conflict actually received the acclamation of imperator from their men. This
happened to Curio, for instance, during his operations against Pompeians
in North Africa in the first year of the Civil War. In addressing his army,
Curio talked about the special affection gained from his men by an impera-
tor for his successes; he also insisted that he had never sought such a high
honor, content simply with being acclaimed one of Caesar’s soldiers. This
appears to have been a common sentiment, whether genuine or affected,
among the officers of Caesar, since Publius Sulla, in command of some of
Caesar’s forces in Greece, also satisfied himself with following orders and
acting as his imperator’s deputy rather than proceeding further against the
enemy and assuming for himself the behavior of commander in chief. In
Curio’s case, since his soldiers had honored him with the title of imperator,
he made sure they knew that they could take it back should they find him
lacking in the proper qualities.
On the other hand, some of Pompey’s officers deliberately appropriated
the victorious title for themselves, case in point, Pompey’s father-in-law,
Metellus Scipio, who did so despite having suffered losses in battle. Cae-
sar had something to say on this subject of legates versus imperatores: the
former ought to do everything in accordance with the orders given them,
while the latter had the freedom to decide on a course of action in accor-
dance with the circumstances and in an effort to achieve the greatest results.
Naturally, the title imperator dates back in time before Caesar’s writ-
ings and career (at least as far back as the early second century BCE) and it
continued to be employed in the period following his assassination until
his adopted son, Caesar Octavian, emerged as the last surviving imperator
425
Imperator
and basically absorbed the honor as strictly his own. Though he preferred
other titles, Octavian (or Augustus, as he was eventually known) incor-
porated imperator into his official and especially his personal nomencla-
ture and the armies of Rome continued to recognize him principally as
“their imperator,” making him the first of Rome’s “Emperors” (the corrup-
tion of imperator in the English language). Since these emperors were the
only ones allowed to use the title, the term took on the principle meaning
of “ruler” (as noted earlier, imperare had always meant “to rule,” among
other things), just as when Caesar’s contemporary Sallust had described the
human mind as the ruler of a person’s life or the Romans as the rulers of
all other peoples.
See also: Army; Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Curio
(d. 49 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86
BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pom-
pey (106–48 BCE); Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Spain; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Grant, M. 1946. From Imperium to Auctoritas. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
McFayden, D. 1920. The History of the Title Imperator under the Roman Empire.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Raaflaub, K., and M. Toher. 1990. Between Republic and Empire. Berkeley and Los
Rosenstein, N. 1990. Imperatores Victi. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press.
426
J
Jews
Jews
Julius Caesar had a tumultuous experience with the Jewish people and their
leaders during his Civil War with Pompey. His treatment of them in the
end, however, established an important precedent for later rulers of Rome
and set the pattern of Roman–Jewish relations for centuries to come.
By the time of Caesar, the descendants of the ancient Israelites or He-
brews were commonly called Yehudin (in Hebrew) or Iudaioi (in Greek),
meaning persons from Judaea, the region around Jerusalem; in English, we
render this as Jews. Most followers of the Jewish faith, however, no longer
lived in Judaea; instead, an estimated five million of them lived in commu-
nities scattered across the ancient world, in Babylonia (which was part of
the Parthian Empire at the time), in the Arabian Peninsula, in the Roman
province of Cyrene (eastern Libya), in the kingdom of Ethiopia, and espe-
cially in the Ptolemaic kingdom of Egypt (at places such as Elephantine,
Alexandria, and Leontopolis), in the Roman provinces and allied kingdoms
of Asia Minor (e.g., the towns of Sardis, Tarsus, Ephesus, and Aphrodi-
sias), and in the Roman province of Syria (at Antioch). The city of Rome
itself had a Jewish population of 10,000 or more in Caesar’s day, most of
them merchants, artisans, and the free descendants of prisoners of war who
had been brought to Italy as slaves over a hundred years earlier; they met
for worship in (eventually eleven) separate synagogues in the city. Most of
these Diaspora Jews (Jews who had left their homeland) possessed high
education in Greco-Roman culture and had Hellenized (adopted Greek
ways, which were the international fashion of the eastern Mediterranean)
in language, dress, habits, names, and so on; there were many prosperous
merchants and skilled professionals among them.
Jews living in Roman territories benefitted from privileges granted by
Caesar; he honored this people of such an ancient religious tradition by
granting them complete freedom to worship in their own way, exempting
them from military obligations as auxiliaries, from paying taxes to Rome,
and, in Judaea itself, from having to use Roman currency (they were al-
lowed to mint their own shekels so as not to be offended by the Roman
coins which carried the images of pagan gods upon them). Caesar even
continued the separate legal systems for Jews and the rights of autonomous
self-government (called politeumata in Greek) for their communities where
they had enjoyed these benefits from previous Greek monarchs, such as in
Asia Minor and Syria. Some Jews even attained Roman citizenship for a va-
riety of services to Caesar or the Roman State. Caesar’s reputation with the
Jews in Rome itself was so strong that, according to the biographer Sue-
tonius, crowds of grief-stricken Jewish mourners filled the Roman Forum
during Caesar’s funeral and for several nights afterward.
429
Jews
View of the Wailing Wall at the western base of the Temple Mount, Jerusalem, Israel.
Now topped by the Muslim Dome of the Rock, in Caesar’s time, the hill was the site of
the Jewish Temple to Yahweh (later considerably remodeled by King Herod). Though
later Romans destroyed Herod’s temple complex, leaving only the Wailing Wall, Caesar
followed a policy of good relations with the Jewish People. (PhotoDisc, Inc.)
Roman relations with Jews did not originate with Caesar, however, but
instead dated back at least to the Maccabaean Revolt, when the Jews of Ju-
daea rose up against the Greek king Antiochus IV of the Seleucid dynasty
and his repressive religious and social policies; Antiochus, in fact, attempted
to destroy Jewish culture and force the Jews in his kingdom to completely
adopt the ways of their neighbors or at least of their Greek overlords. Jew-
ish sources attest to an alliance between the Jewish rebels and Rome at that
time; the Romans exerted a dominating influence in Greece and Asia Minor
at the time, had already defeated Antiochus’s father twice in battle over
other matters, and had stopped Antiochus himself from invading Ptolemaic
Egypt. So, it would have made sense for the Romans to show their favor to
an anti-Seleucid rebellion and for the Jews to team up with the rising new
power against the declining old one. The Romans, however, did not get
directly involved in the Jewish rebellion, as far as we know, and the alliance
may have been formed just after its conclusion, in fact.
The Jews of Judaea secured their independence under Simon Maccabeus
of the house of Hasmon. This brought considerable regional power to the
expansionistic Hasmonaeans, not just political and military but also reli-
gious; the Hasmonaean kings of Judaea also served as high priests of the
430
Jews
Jewish faith. Such power brought competition and rivalry within the family,
and this finally drew the Romans directly into Judaean affairs.
Simon’s great-grandsons, Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II, turned on one
another in a bitter Civil War. Another Civil War was under way to the
north, in Syria, the last vestige of the old Seleucid kingdom of the Middle
East. The Roman general Pompey, engaged at the time in operations even
further north in the kingdom of Armenia, regarded the civil wars in Syria
and Judaea as security threats to the Roman Empire and as chances for
glory for himself and loot for his troops, and hence he entered both ter-
ritories to settle the disputes there. In the case of Judaea, Pompey sided
with the weaker brother, Hyrcanus, thinking Aristobulus, who had links to
the Parthian Empire (Rome’s future rival), to be more dangerous and dif-
ficult to control; Roman support meant victory over Aristobulus (whom
Pompey imprisoned and sent to Rome) and tipped the balance of power
to Hyrcanus, who, however, found himself reduced in status from king to
ethnarch (“leader of a tribe”). Pompey also stripped territory away from
the kingdom of Judaea, leaving the heartland under Hyrcanus as a client
ally of Rome. The latter worked in cooperation with the Sanhedrin coun-
cil of wealthy landowners and the priestly caste; both these groups of Jews
seemed to favor a close relationship with and obedience to Rome.
This did not sit well with all the Jews of the region, however, especially
since Pompey had offended the local population in a number of ways, ap-
parently to demonstrate Roman might; among other things, he invaded the
Jewish temple; some even said he raided it and sacrificed a pig on the altar
there. Regardless, just entering the holy space was something quite sacri-
legious under Jewish custom. Pompey’s bad behavior may have inspired
Julius Caesar to his fine treatment of the Jews later on, though his normal
custom of clementia, leniency or tolerance, no doubt also played a part.
Already before the Civil War between Pompey and Caesar, the situation
in Judaea had turned ugly, with uprisings taking place against Hyrcanus in
favor of Aristobulus and his sons. During the Civil War, these continued until
Caesar freed Aristobulus from prison, entrusting him with legions to hold
Judaea, as well as Syria; agents of Pompey, however, arranged the king’s as-
sassination and beheaded his eldest son. The true power in Judaea was now
the Idumaean warlord, Antipater; though previously a supporter of Pompey,
he had gained the goodwill of Caesar by providing him much-needed troops,
Jews, and others, during his war at Alexandria in Egypt. When Caesar, fresh
from his victories in Egypt, passed through Judaea, he allowed Hyrcanus to
remain High Priest, but installed Antipater as agent of Rome and a citizen
(also making the latter’s son, Herod, ethnarch of Galilee), and decreed the
privileges for Jews throughout the empire that have been noted earlier. The
Hasmonaean family, in the person of Aristobulus’s son Matthew Antigonos,
regained the throne of Judaea only with the death of Antipater in 43 BCE.
431
Jews
Many Jews of Judaea did as the Hasmonaean rulers and other leaders of
their community had done, as their cousins elsewhere in the ancient world
had done, that is, adopted Greek or Roman customs. The majority of the
population in Judaea, however, the poor farmers and shepherds, perhaps
a million of them, fragmented over such foreign influences, even Julius
Caesar’s friendly gestures, which helped fuel the social and religious fac-
tionalism among Judaeans that later characterized the lifetime of Jesus of
Nazareth.
Parthian intrigues in the region and the popular rebelliousness against
Rome that they fomented encouraged Caesar to further his support for
Antipater; after Caesar’s death, Marc Antony continued this strategy by
executing the king Matthew Antigonos and replacing him with Antipater’s
son, Herod. Herod and his sons made sure that officially the Jews of Judaea
backed Rome, ordering annual sacrifices in the Temple of Jerusalem for
the health and well-being of the empire (and eventually its first Emperor,
Augustus, Caesar’s great-nephew). Many Jews across the empire, grateful
for the support of Caesar, Antony, and Augustus, followed Herod’s lead in
being loyal subjects of Rome.
Caesar’s regulations protecting the Jews continued in force under Ant-
ony and Augustus and were recognized as official policy, followed by most
emperors until the time of fourth-century rulers, like Constantine and
Theodosius, who turned to favor Christianity against Judaism; the Jews’
privileged status up to that point indeed had allowed the flourishing of
Christianity, an off-shoot of the Jewish faith, as well as rabbinic Judaism.
Many Jews, however, maintained an intolerant monotheism and icono-
clasm; and the dietary restrictions of most Jews, and their “barbarous” cus-
toms like circumcision, made them seem weird to non-Jews and provoked
troubles over the centuries in local communities and with the Roman au-
thorities; it did not help that the Jews of Judaea especially rebelled against
Roman rule on several occasions, leading to crushing defeat at the hands
of Roman armies. Some Roman Emperors, like Tiberius, Caligula, and
Hadrian, showed clear distaste for the Jews, while others, like Antoninus
Pius and Alexander Severus, respected Jewish traditions and their special
legal status. Thus, Caesar, despite his efforts to do well by the Jews, still
furthered Pompey’s legacy of mixed Roman relations with those Jews who
lived in the empire.
See also: Coinage/Money; Patrons and Clients; Pompey (106–48 BCE);
Provinces; Religion, Roman
Further Reading
Kasher, A. 1988. Jews, Idumaeans and Ancient Arabs. Tubingen: J.C.B. Mohr.
432
Juba (d. 46 BCE)
Schaefer, P. 1995. The History of the Jews in the Greco-Roman World. London and
New York: Routledge.
Sherwin-White, S. M., and A. Kuhrt. 1993. From Samarkhand to Sardis. Berkeley
Smallwood, E. M. 1976. The Jews under Roman Rule. Leiden, The Netherlands:
Brill Publishers.
Juba (d. 46 BCE)

King Juba I of Numidia (roughly comprising today’s northeastern Algeria
and northern Libya during his reign) descended from a long line of allies
loyal to the Roman Empire. When that empire was torn asunder by the
Civil War between Julius Caesar and Pompey the Great, Juba made the
fateful choice of putting the future of his kingdom and of his alliance with
Rome on the line by openly and fully taking the side of Pompey.
The kingdom of Numidia had an alliance with Rome since the close of
the Second Punic War in the last quarter of the third century BCE. This al-
liance came about because one of the two principal Numidian warlords,
Massinissa, worked with Scipio Africanus, the commander of Roman oper-
ations in North Africa; the other principal warlord, Syphax, sided with the
Carthaginians and suffered defeat alongside Hannibal. The Roman Em-
pire then recognized Massinissa as ruler of all of Numidia, even permitting
him further aggrandizement through his nearly continuous harassment of
the Carthaginians and absorption of more and more of their territory into
his own. At the height of Massinissa’s reign in the mid-second century
BCE, the kingdom stretched from today’s eastern Morocco to almost the
eastern edge of Libya. No wonder that his nephew, and eventual heir, the
infamous (in Roman eyes) Jugurtha, developed such an appetite for even
greater enhancement of the power of Numidia, even if this meant chal-
lenging Rome.
Caesar’s uncle by marriage, the famous general Marius, countered the
threat posed by Jugurtha in the late first century BCE; in the aftermath of his
military victories, the Senate added a small section of Numidian territory to
the Roman province of Africa (former Carthaginian heartland, today’s Tu-
nisia), authorized another portion to be handed over to Marius’s local ally,
Bocchus I of Mauretania (roughly modern Morocco and western Algeria),
and allowed the rest to remain with Jugurtha’s half-brother, Gauda. Gauda,
his son, Hiempsal II, and grandson, Juba I, remained allies of Rome.
Then came two civil wars among the Romans. The first, waged by the
forces of General Sulla against the faction of Marius and Cinna (Caesar’s
father-in-law) from 84 to 81 BCE, saw King Hiempsal give aid to the former
433
Juba (d. 46 BCE)
(perhaps driven by a family grudge against Marius, their conqueror). Yet

he faced a challenge from another warlord, Hiarbas, who seized the throne
with assistance from Cinna’s faction and forced Hiempsal to flee to Maure-
tania, probably with young prince Juba by his side. Eventually, another
Roman army arrived in Numidia to fight for Sulla’s cause, commanded by
the young Pompey (whom Sulla termed “the Great” for his accomplish-
ments there). His victories restored Hiempsal to power and also secured
Juba’s inheritance. No wonder the latter felt such a strong sense of obliga-
tion to Pompey.
When the next round of civil strife erupted among the Romans in 49
BCE, Caesar attempted to secure the Roman province of Africa by send-
ing in military forces under his associate, C. Scribonius Curio. While the
latter placed some of the Pompeian sympathizers there under siege, Juba,
without any provocation, declared his allegiance to Pompey’s cause and at-
tacked. Besides his duty to Pompey, Juba was also motivated by his animos-
ity toward both Curio and Caesar. The latter had insulted him on a state
visit to Rome thirteen years earlier (Caesar had grabbed young Juba by the
beard, a serious affront to masculinity and honor in many Mediterranean
cultures over the centuries) and, more recently, the former had attempted
to deprive the king of his kingdom by senatorial decree (probably as a land
grab for Roman settlers, something already suggested—and averted by
careful bribery—fourteen years before).
In the late summer of 49, Juba cunningly tricked Curio into a sort of am-
bush, luring him away from his siege operations with a small Numidian force
only to overwhelm him with the remainder of his troopers, hidden nearby.
Almost every Roman soldier perished, including Curio. Pompey (in Greece)
and the rest of his faction saluted Juba as a hero, lavishing honors upon him.
In the aftermath of Caesar’s defeat of Pompey in the Battle of Pharsalus
(summer of 48 BCE), North Africa became a place of refuge and a base of
operations for the remaining Pompeian forces and Juba’s support for them
was that much more critical. Their commander in chief, Pompey’s father-in-
law, Metellus Scipio had the moral backing of Cato the Younger, staunch-
est of all Caesar’s political opponents, and the assistance of Pompey’s sons,
Cnaeus and Sextus. They persuaded Juba to continue cooperating with
them, promising him an expansion of his territory (in keeping with the tra-
dition of his predecessors), though not conceding the place of leadership he
sought in the operations against Caesar. With control of North Africa, the
Pompeians lashed out at the island provinces of Sicily and Sardinia (both
under Caesar’s sway), sent forces across to Spain, stirring up anti-Caesarian
sentiments there, and planned to invade Italy, Caesar’s base of operations.
Delayed by military necessities in Egypt, Asia Minor (modern Tur-
key), and Italy, Caesar could not set out against the considerable threat in
North Africa until nearly the end of 47 BCE. At first, the Pompeians and the
434
Juba (d. 46 BCE)
Numidians kept Caesar’s army in check; the Numidian horsemen especially,

so skilled in mounted combat, played a crucial role in this, whether under
their own king or the Pompeian commanders. Caesar faced one difficulty
after another until forging an alliance with the joint kings of Mauretania,
Bocchus II and Bogud (sons of Bocchus I). Perhaps they were motivated
to join Caesar because of their father’s connection to his uncle Marius
(other North African tribes did so for that reason), but more immediately,
a Roman mercenary in their employ, P. Sittius, persuaded them that Cae-
sar’s side would win and they could all benefit from that.
Sittius “introduced” himself to Caesar by invading Numidia and causing so
much trouble that Juba was thereby compelled to return home, withdrawing
most of his troopers from the Pompeian coalition force. This raised Caesar’s
sense of confidence and, upon receiving reinforcements from Italy, allowed
him to focus on his Roman adversaries for a time. The latter repeatedly begged
Juba to return to their side, promising him the entire province of Africa if he
did so. Like his ancestors, Juba was willing to take big risks for big territorial
aggrandizement; he left his subordinates to deal with the Mauretanian threat
to his kingdom and rejoined Metellus Scipio with a large force of troopers.
Neither side sought to engage in a pitched battle at this point, how-
ever; maneuvers and skirmishes failed to allay fears of total defeat. Also,
both commanders hoped to bring about battle on their own terms, which
proved quite a challenge. Then, Caesar’s army laid siege to the important
port city of Thapsus and his enemies besieged him in turn. The battle that
ensued there on April 6, 46 BCE decimated the Pompeian ranks, even forc-
ing Metellus Scipio to flee for his life (though he died onboard his sinking
ship not long afterward).
As for Juba, he also fled, appalled at Caesar’s unexpected victory. He had
gambled poorly, however, because he had no place to go; his kingdom had
been thoroughly occupied by the forces of Sittius and Bocchus II and even
his treasure fortress, Zama, was barred to his entry. In despair, he and one
of Pompey’s long-time officers, M. Petreius, decided to end one another’s
lives in the most honorable way they could think of, a sword duel to the
death. Unfortunately for Juba, he won the duel, killing Petreius while vir-
tually unscathed himself. He, then, turned to a tried-and-true method of
suicide, ordering one of his loyal slaves to do the deed.
Juba’s kingdom suffered from his decision to support Pompey’s faction.
Caesar gave some Numidian territory to the Mauretanians, and one of its
principal cities (Cirta) to Sittius, and added the rest to the empire as the
province of Africa Nova under the governorship of the future historian, Sal-
lust. Caesar himself returned to Rome and, in the fall of 46 BCE, celebrated
his victories thus far in the Civil War with a series of four triumphal ceremo-
nies, one of which was over Juba. In the traditional procession, the king’s
little son, of the same name, was paraded for the Roman citizens to gawp at.
435
Julia (d. 54 BCE)
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE);
Libya/Numidia; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces;
Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE)
Further Reading
Foster, H. B. 2010. Dio’s Roman History in Six Volumes. Alvin, TX: Halcyon Press Ltd.
Publishing.
Seager, R. 2002. Pompey the Great. 2nd ed. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing.
Julia (d. 54 BCE)

Out of all of Caesar’s marriages, only that to Cornelia, his first wife, pro-
duced a child, their daughter, Julia. In typical fashion for offspring, daugh-
ters especially, of the Roman elite, Julia’s path in life was laid out by her
father to serve primarily his ends.
Ancient sources tell us nothing about Julia’s youth. She lost her mother
quite early on, in 69 BCE, when she was perhaps about four years old;
whether she attended the funeral rites, during which her father delivered a
famously emotional eulogy, is unattested. Traditionally, Roman fathers had
little to do with the upbringing of their daughters, and there is no evidence
to indicate that Caesar was any exception, so Julia came under the care of
his mother, her grandmother, Aurelia; they all lived together in the family
home located in the Subura district of Rome.
Two years after her mother’s passing, Julia’s father brought another
woman into the house, a new bride, a stepmother, Pompeia. Four years
after that, they “moved up in the world,” in a sense, that is, into the of-
ficial residence, the Domus Publica, of the Pontifex Maximus, the highest
priestly office in Rome, to which post her father had been elected. Within
a year of the move, Caesar divorced his young wife as a result of a scandal.
And for the following year and a half, he was gone from Rome as governor
of the province of Further Spain (roughly today’s southern Spain). In other
words, the eight years following her mother’s death had brought a whole
436
Julia (d. 54 BCE)
slew of upheavals to young Julia’s life, with her grandmother, presumably,

providing the only reliable source of stability.
Then came her father’s return from Spain and the beginning of his true
rise to power, with all the attendant dangers. Sometime earlier than this, he
had betrothed Julia to Q. Servilius Caepio, probably a relative of Caesar’s
long-time mistress, Servilia. Though some have speculated that this was, in
fact, Servilia’s son, the famous Brutus (who was called Q. Servilius Caepio
Brutus, because of adoption by his uncle), this seems doubtful because
the Caepio in question vigorously assisted Caesar in the political struggles
of the time, suggesting a man of greater age and means than Brutus, and
because these struggles were often against Bibulus, ally and son-in-law of
Brutus’s dearest uncle, Cato. Regardless of who the betrothed was, Cae-
sar broke off the engagement in 59 BCE, not long before the wedding
was scheduled to take place, and instead arranged for the marriage of his
fourteen-year-old daughter to his forty-seven-year-old political associate,
Pompey. The latter also became, through legal will and testament, Caesar’s
principal heir; in other words, Julia’s husband was to be regarded as her
father’s son.
No doubt, Julia had little, if any, say in marrying Pompey; young Roman
girls, even of the aristocracy, were seldom asked about such things. Yet
the union seems to have blossomed into genuine love between wife and
husband. Pompey could hardly seem to drag himself away from his young
bride to perform his duties to the state, instead spending time with her
away from Rome at various villas, and she stressed over his every absence,
especially in the politically violent atmosphere of Rome in those years. Sev-
eral muckraking politicians, especially the plebeian tribune, Clodius, tried
to blacken Pompey’s reputation as “lecherous” and “unmanly,” while the
latter’s friends, such as Q. Terentius Culleo, also tribune, encouraged Pom-
pey to divorce Julia as a “bad influence” on him. Though troubled by the
criticism, Pompey could not dream of leaving Julia and, instead, in fact, he
shirked his public obligations even more, delegating the responsibility of
governing the provinces of Spain to trusted friends so that he could stay in
Italy with her.
Perhaps, seen from a psychological perspective, Pompey gave to Julia the
constant affection and attention that she had never really received from her
father; he also never gave her any cause to worry about his faithfulness to
her. For Pompey, at first glance, this was just another political marriage, like
the three others that had come before, but he had no need of heirs this time
(since his last wife had given him two sons and a daughter), and Julia seems
to have been for him a breath of fresh air; her youthful energy and devotion
to him drew out his most charming traits and gave him a new lease on life,
a chance to start his life over in many ways.
437
Julia (d. 54 BCE)
Sadly, Julia’s happiness with Pompey did not last very long. Shocked
by the sight of her husband’s clothes stained with blood from a riot in the
Forum, she miscarried their first child; the truth is that she had probably
married too young (many Roman women did so) to safely produce off-
spring. Then, in the summer of the following year, 54 BCE, Julia died giv-
ing birth to a baby girl, who passed away a few days afterward. Caesar, was
upset over all this, supposedly, but that did not stop him from proposing
to Pompey that the latter remarry, to Caesar’s teenage great-niece, Octa-
via. Pompey, by contrast, was genuinely devastated; no wonder he refused
Caesar’s suggestion.
Pompey himself had wanted to inter his wife’s remains at his villa near
Alba, in the countryside south of Rome, probably one of those places where
the couple had spent lots of memorable time together. Crowds of bereaved
citizens surrounded his house in Rome, however, and demanded the privi-
lege of burying Julia in the Campus Martius, a place reserved for military
heroes. Despite the objections to this from some of the plebeian tribunes,
Julia’s cremation and entombment did take place as the people desired.
Whether her mausoleum was erected only for her or was designed also
to hold the remains of her mother and perhaps have a spot open for her
father, too, is unknown, though this would have been traditional. We do
know that Caesar later made clear to his friends and to his niece, Atia, and
probably in his will, that he wanted to be cremated close to Julia’s resting
place; we can assume that he would have also been interred there or in a
building nearby.
Julia’s story conveys an image of the stereotypical Roman woman, in that
her life was primarily defined by the men in it. Yet she seems to have found
something of value for herself even under such constraints, and “her” men
appear to have come to love her truly as a unique person.
See also: Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE); Aurelia/Aurelian family; Bibulus (d. 48 BCE);
Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Campus Martius; Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Corne-
lia (d. 69 BCE); Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Pontifex
Maximus; Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE); Subura
Further Reading
Routledge.
Press.
438
Julia (d. 54 BCE)
lishing.
Publishing.
University Press.
439
L

Near the start of the Civil War between himself and Julius Caesar, Pompey
the Great left Italy to make his military stand in Greece; a number of sena-
tors joined him there, among them T. Labienus. Labienus had served for
years as a top lieutenant of Caesar’s, but when he came to regard his old
commander as an enemy of the Republic, and as an obstacle to his own as-
pirations, he switched to Pompey’s side, remaining loyal to its cause until
his own death.
Labienus came from the town of Cingulum (modern Cingoli) in Pice-
num (roughly the modern Italian regions of Marche and Abruzzi); since
the people of Picenum had very strong connections with the family of Pom-
pey, going back at least to the time of the latter’s father, Pompeius Strabo,
Labienus and his family likely did so as well. He saw his first military service
in the 70s BCE, under the command of Servilius Isauricus in the Roman
province of Cilicia (southeastern Turkey today); he shared that honor with
the young Julius Caesar, who held the same rank of military tribune. Both
were in their twenties, perhaps five or six years apart in age; no information
is recorded about their interactions at that time.
Thus, Labienus had acquired close-up experience of both Pompey and
Caesar from fairly early on in his life. In those days, there was no need to
choose one over the other, since Caesar was working very hard to support
Pompey, the rising star, at every turn. Whether Labienus had a preference
for one or the other remains a mystery.
In fact, his closer association with Caesar perhaps only began in 63 BCE,
when Labienus held the office of plebeian tribune. In that capacity, he
seems to have conspired with Caesar to make an example of the elderly
senator, C. Rabirius. He attempted, first, to have Rabirius executed (by an
outdated procedure) for treasonable behavior in the killing of Saturninus,
another plebeian tribune, nearly forty years earlier; the real target, especially
for Caesar, was the particular decree of the Senate (the senatus consultum
ultimum) which had “legalized” the murder of Saturninus and several of
his comrades. If the case had proceeded according to plan, one of Rabiri-
us’s judges would have been Caesar himself, the other, a cousin of Caesar.
Condemnation and execution would have been assured.
Cicero, one of the consuls of 63, prevented this, however. Labienus at-
tempted to continue the prosecution by moving the venue to one of the
Popular Assemblies, where he still had to contend with Cicero as Rabirius’s
defense counsel, and Cicero pulled out all the stops, not only blackening
the memory of Labienus’s uncle (whom Rabirius had also allegedly killed
in the same incident) but also calling into question the tribune himself as
lacking patriotism and courage, as well as having a sadistic character and no
regard for rights. Labienus did not win the case (thanks to the obstruction
443
of other officials), but he took things as far as he could, motivated not only
by a desire to avenge his uncle’s death but also by the persistent backing of
Julius Caesar.
In that same year, Labienus opened the door for Caesar to become Pon-
tifex Maximus, the most prestigious priest in Rome. An ancient custom had
established that this priesthood be elected by a segment of the Roman vot-
ing public, but that custom had evidently been blocked by new rules put in
place by the dictator Sulla back in 81 BCE. Labienus’s successful legislation
in 63 once again made the position (and, in fact, all the major priesthoods
of Rome) elective, and the elections for Pontifex Maximus brought in Cae-
sar as the winner (thanks to considerable distribution of bribes among the
voters).
As tribune, Labienus also showed his support of Pompey. The latter was
finishing up his operations in the eastern Mediterranean, having defeated
the kings of Pontus (northern Turkey), Armenia, and Syria and having
brought Judaea into tight alliance with Rome. Labienus secured from the
Roman voters special honors for Pompey: he would have the privilege of
wearing the corona aurea (the crown of golden leaves worn by triumphal
generals) at state-sponsored theatrical productions (ludi scaenici) and the
corona plus triumphal robes (purple embroidered with gold) at official en-
tertainments held in the Circus Maximus (ludi circenses).
Caesar took Labienus with him to Gaul (Gallia Comata, roughly modern
France) as his chief legate (legatus propaetore), second-in-command. In his
first year (58 BCE) as proconsul (governor), Caesar engaged in war with the
Helvetii (a Celtic tribe) to prevent their passing from Switzerland through
Gaul. According to the Imperial biographer Plutarch, Caesar sent Labienus
against a subset of the Helvetii known as the Tigurini, which he largely de-
stroyed along the banks of the Arar River (today’s Saone River). Caesar,
however, in his own record of that encounter, gives himself the credit for
destroying the Tigurini, claiming that Labienus, instead, commanded the
line of fortifications constructed to prevent the Helvetii from penetrating
the Roman province of Transalpine Gaul (modern Provence) through the
passage between Lake Geneva and the Rhone River.
Regardless of this discrepancy in the sources, it is clear that Caesar en-
trusted Labienus with challenging responsibilities. During the Roman pur-
suit of the main body of the Helvetii, for example, he sent Labienus to
seize an elevated position in advance of the enemy, accomplished despite
pitch darkness of night, while he himself brought forces up from behind
in a classic hammer-and-anvil operation. In the following year, to counter
the uprising of the Belgae (in northeastern Gaul), who opposed Roman
expansionism, Labienus led three of Caesar’s legions in successful combat,
capturing the camp of the Nervii (one of the leading Belgic tribes) and, in
fact, helping to save his commander’s life by sending in the famous Tenth
444
Legion, Caesar’s best and bravest, to prevent disaster in Caesar’s sector of

the battle.
When Caesar returned to Italy each winter, and when he twice crossed
over into Britain, he placed Labienus in overall command of the legions in
Gaul, and the latter kept his commander in chief scrupulously informed
on the happenings there. Caesar most typically positioned Labienus in the
northeastern sector of Gaul, to maintain surveillance on the Rhine River
border with Germany and order among the often-rebellious Belgae. When
the warlord Ambiorix led some of the Belgae to destroy the legions com-
manded by Sabinus and Cotta in their winter encampments and threat-
ened the destruction of others under Quintus Cicero’s command, Labienus
wished he could come to their rescue but asked Caesar’s permission to in-
stead operate on his own against the Treveri, the rebel tribe closest to his
own position. He staved off their attacks long enough for Caesar to arrive
with reinforcements, at which time the Treveri scattered, seeming to turn
the tide of events.
In the following spring, however, the Treveri allied with other neighbor-
ing tribes once more and their leader, Indutiomarus, targeted Labienus’s
camp. Labienus received full intelligence on enemy plans and maneuvers
from informants and, though he had complete confidence in his fortifica-
tions, stealthily received reinforcements from the loyal Gauls, and, in fact,
desired to engage the enemy, nonetheless followed a cunning strategy of
lulling Indutiomarus into a false sense of superiority. After riding up to the
Roman ramparts day after day, taunting the Romans all the while and get-
ting little response, the Treveri eventually let their guard down, and Labi-
enus unleashed the full force of his troops against them in their disarray.
His target was Indutiomarus himself, who was relentlessly pursued until
captured and beheaded, while the remainder of his forces scattered in con-
fusion. Labienus’s victory sent shockwaves throughout Belgica, convincing
the allies of Indutiomarus to withdraw.
Punitive expeditions followed under Caesar’s command with the major-
ity of his forces; he placed Labienus in charge of the army’s baggage. Still
encamped among the Treveri, Labienus soon found himself and his small
contingent once again threatened by the warriors of that tribe, who were
also bringing in German reinforcements from across the Rhine. He decided
to trick the Treveri into an open attack by faking a panicky retreat from his
marching camp. This drew his enemies across a difficult stream and onto
ground disadvantageous to them, but not to his men. Encouraging his
troops to fight as if Caesar himself were watching them, Labienus ordered
them to turn and attack, the Treveri caught between the Romans and the
steep banks of the river. Labienus’ victory ensured the tribe’s surrender and
the rise of Cingetorix, loyal to the Romans, as its new leader, as well as the
withdrawal of the German mercenaries back over the Rhine.
445
After this success, Labienus joined in Caesar’s efforts to locate Ambi-

orix; his particular task was to search the northwestern territories of that
warlord’s own tribe, the Eburones. In the process, local populations were
subjected to further punishments for having supported Ambiorix; by the
time winter came, Labienus, Trebonius, and even Caesar himself had had
no luck in locating him. In fact, he was never found.
A couple of years later, the much bigger uprising of the whole of Gaul
under the leadership of Vercingetorix gave Labienus another opportunity
to shine. Caesar divided his forces into two groups; six legions under his
own command proceeded against the tribe of Vercingetorix, the Arverni,
while the other four legions under Labienus proceeded northward against
the Senones and the Parisii. He, thus, became the first Roman general to
operate in the territory where now stands the city of Paris (called Lutetia
by the Gauls).
The forces under Labienus had to contend with difficult terrain, espe-
cially the swampland around Lutetia, the fast-moving Seine River, and the
warriors of the Parisii. Labienus once again utilized clever maneuvers to
convince the enemy that his forces were in retreat all along the river; they, in
response, divided their own forces to chase down the Roman fugitives. The
right wing of Labienus’s main body of troops wheeled round and crashed
through the Parisian left; it then came up behind the Parisian right wing,
which found itself encircled on all sides. Similar slaughter took place out-
side the Roman marching camp, as the garrison there clashed with the Pa-
risian defense force. Labienus had scored another great victory to his credit.
Caesar himself, in his account of the Gallic Wars, showered his lieutenant
with the highest praise for his military genius in this campaign. He relied
on Labienus one last time, during the final showdown with Vercingetorix
in the Siege of Alesia. Treating his legate, as he had become accustomed to
do, as a sort of second self, Caesar sent him into the most precarious sector
of the battle zone, where the Gallic forces seemed to be exerting themselves
most. Labienus did not disappoint, reinforcing his comrades and holding
the line of siege until Caesar’s own arrival on the scene to drive home the
victory.
Despite all the years of valued service, when Civil War began between
Caesar and Pompey in 49 BCE, Labienus switched to the latter’s side. Ac-
cording to the contemporary private letters of the famous orator Cicero,
Labienus did so because he had come to regard Caesar as a traitor to the
Republic for having pushed his own career agenda and invading Italy; Ci-
cero spoke of Labienus as a “hero” for realizing this, and even saw the per-
sonal blow to Caesar’s feelings as a victory for those opposed to him. Other
authors, like the Imperial historian Cassius Dio, asserted that arrogance
motivated Labienus; he saw greater scope for his talents and sought greater
recognition of them in alliance with Pompey, whereas he regarded Caesar
446
as “standing in his way.” Truth be told, a typical Roman would have seen
this as defense of dignitas, in other words, not that different from Caesar’s
own justification for waging war against his political opponents.
Labienus provided Pompey with much-needed military intelligence, tac-
tical advice, and personal insights on the battle-hardiness of the opposing
army, all gained from his years of experience with Caesar. He became one
of the most outspoken members of Pompey’s war council, often bolstering
the morale of the other officers by solemnly swearing to follow Pompey in
whatever Fate had planned and never to desert him. Labienus also repeat-
edly demonstrated contempt for Caesar by preaching against him and his
men. On one occasion, for instance, during a lull in the military operations
in western Greece, he shouted out to the soldiers of the opposing army that
they should stop talking about peace because there could be none until his
side had Caesar’s head; the victories of Pompey’s force in that sector soon
gave Labienus the chance to execute captured prisoners, again an insult to
his former commander. For Labienus, Caesar’s very best officer, to do all
this inspired the Pompeian army to great confidence.
In the summer of 48 BCE, Labienus participated in the major battle be-
tween Pompey and Caesar at Pharsalus; afterward, he was not among those
who surrendered and received pardon from the victorious Caesar, but in-
stead joined the fugitive Pompeians who regrouped in North Africa. Under
the overall command of Metellus Scipio, Pompey’s father-in-law, and work-
ing alongside Pompey’s long-time lieutenant Petreius, Labienus, like the
others, awaited the chance either of invading Italy to reclaim it from Caesar
or of Caesar’s own arrival in North Africa for yet another confrontation.
The second of these occurred late in 47 BCE. Labienus and Petreius kept
Caesar’s small force in check for a while by harassing his men whenever the
latter made a foraging patrol; on one occasion, the two commanders forced
the enemy cavalry back upon its own infantry and killed many of both.
Often, Labienus, confidently riding around without a helmet, taunted Cae-
sar’s men to put them off balance psychologically. All this made Caesar,
too, quite uneasy.
Early in 46 BCE, Labienus had Caesar’s force hemmed in on all sides
at Ruspina, or so it seemed. He had assembled a sizable army, including
Roman infantry, Gallic, German, and Numidian cavalry, as well archers,
slingers, war elephants, and auxiliary troops from Pompey’s ally, King Juba.
Labienus intended to overwhelm Caesar’s men by constant pressure from
sheer numbers and then go in for the kill when the enemy had been ex-
hausted. Caesar did all he could to fortify his position on the coast and col-
lect badly needed supplies by sea; on receiving reinforcements from Italy,
he had the chance to maneuver to a new position and engage the enemy,
now including also forces under Metellus Scipio. Labienus moved a contin-
gent of his cavalry into action to protect others from being slaughtered by
447
Caesar’s troops only to see it being cut off from assistance and the troopers
scattered or destroyed by Caesar.
Maneuvering toward the town of Uzitta, Caesar competed with Labi-
enus for control of a strategic position atop the hills nearby; the latter’s
light infantry neglected his orders, giving Caesar the advantage. Labienus,
Metellus Scipio, and Juba then combined their cavalry and light-infantry
forces to dislodge Caesar’s army from the hills; this failed, and Labienus was
almost captured. In the aftermath, Caesar began to move his troops again,
toward towns that had supplies of food and sources of water, countering
Labienus’s repeated attempts at harassment and ambush; both forces suf-
fered casualties and deaths, more so among Labienus’s men, but the latter
did not give up.
Labienus did not even give up when Caesar defeated the armies of Me-
tellus Scipio and Juba in the Battle of Thapsus (spring 46 BCE) and thereby
conquered North Africa; indeed, Labienus survived and joined up with the
fugitives in Spain under the leadership of Pompey’s eldest son. Almost ex-
actly a year later, he fell in the major battle of Munda, along with tens of
thousands of fellow Romans. At least one ancient source asserts that his
body was identified in the carnage and received a proper funeral.
Labienus certainly gave Caesar and his forces a run for their money, not
surprisingly, since he had learned from Caesar himself and had become a
kind of duplicate of the great general. His defection to Pompey’s side de-
spite so many years of faithful service to Caesar and his determination to
fight to the death and never compromise reveal the sorts of indomitable
“minor” characters produced in Rome’s Late Republic. Without men like
Labienus, neither Caesar nor Pompey could ever have achieved as much as
they did.
See also: Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE); Ambiorix; Ambitus/Bribery; Army; Bel-
gae; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cicero,
Quintus (102–43 BCE); Dignitas; Elections; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Ger-
many; Helvetii; Juba (d. 46 BCE); Legions; Libya/Numidia; Munda, Battle
of (45 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pontifex Maximus; Popular As-
semblies; Senatus Consultum Ultimum; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Tenth Le-
gion; Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE); Trebonius (d. 43 BCE); Trial of Rabirius
(63 BCE); Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Ltd.
448
Land Reform
lishing.
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Land Reform
Roman society had always been a fundamentally agrarian one, in which the
vast majority of the population was engaged in farm labor. From the early
days of Roman history, the government encouraged this through the tradi-
tion of granting, selling, or renting to Roman citizens parcels of farmland
gained through wars of conquest (known as ager publicus or public land).
Since Roman commanders seldom called up the urban population for mili-
tary duty, regarding city dwellers as not fit enough, it was the adult males
from the farms that provided the soldiers for further wars of expansion
across Italy and indeed all around the Mediterranean region; this added
even more public land, mostly in Italy, since elsewhere the Romans tended
to leave land in the hands of tax-paying subjects. The Roman population
grew in number and spread throughout the Italian Peninsula as a result
of this policy toward conquered land. In the last hundred years or so of
the Roman Republic, however, shifting economic and demographic factors
short-circuited this tradition and began to create a reverse trend, in which
more and more citizens moved from the farms back into the cities of Italy,
especially Rome itself. This generated overpopulation, increasing poverty
and crime, and reduced the available number of farmer-soldiers. In this
context, Roman politicians developed a new tradition of land reform to re-
store citizens to the countryside and cure the ills of the urban environment.
The need for land reform had its origins in the second and third centuries
BCE, during the Republic’s major expansion overseas. The soldier-farmers
served longer and longer stints on the battlefield than their ancestors had
done, with less and less chance of returning home to take care of their
farms and greater and greater chance of being killed in action. Remain-
ing members of their families tried to pick up the slack, but many found
themselves unable to compete in the “globalizing” agricultural market that
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Rome’s empire was unintentionally creating (by opening up new sources of

cheaper foodstuffs outside of Italy and slave laborers captured in warfare);
they were forced to take out larger and larger loans, often from senators, to
make ends meet. Quite often, the financial crunch only worsened until the
family farms went under.
Another consideration was the destruction caused by fighting in Italy it-
self, especially in the famous war against Hannibal of Carthage in the late
third century BCE. In some parts of central and southern Italy, farmland lay
waste, towns or their ruins fell into decay, and manpower was so depleted
that there were simply not enough eligible men to join the Roman war ef-
fort. Similar devastation occurred again in the war between Rome and its
allies in Italy, the Social War of the early first century BCE, and again in the
Civil War that immediately followed.
There were people ready to snatch up the land lost or abandoned by
small farmers. The wealthy Roman elite, especially members of the senato-
rial order, took their own gains from the wars of expansion and invested
in land, developing huge (often illegally large) latifundia (estates, planta-
tions, and ranches) in central and southern Italy; they learned how to do so
from the more highly developed and sophisticated methods of large-scale
agriculture practiced in Greece, the Near East, and North Africa, and they
utilized the hundreds of thousands of prisoners of war who poured into
Italy as gangs of slaves to do the backbreaking work on these latifundia.
These domains ranged widely in acreage but, nevertheless, dwarfed the
farms of the typical smallholder nearly twenty times or more and often put
more of the latter out of business. More importantly, since the vast majority
of Roman smallholders rented ager publicus from the state, when wealthy
landowners absorbed abandoned or foreclosed properties to create their
latifundia, they were, in fact, encroaching on public land; as they brought
this land under cultivation or converted it to other uses over the genera-
tions, they came to regard it as private family property, neglecting to pay
rent for it to the state, and conveniently “losing” any original documents
of lease that might have required them to do so.
Some farmers tried to compete with slave-labor as tenant farmers on
their former land or as migrant, seasonal laborers elsewhere, but by the
end of the second century BCE, considerable numbers of displaced citizen-
farmers, including returning veterans and their families, had fled the coun-
tryside altogether, thousands pouring into the towns of Italy, especially into
Rome itself, where hundreds attempted to start small businesses with what
little money they had, but the vast majority looked for any sort of work they
could find or at least welfare from the rich to keep them going from day to
day. In the buyer’s market of the time, urban laborers received very little
pay, barely enough to support a small family, and lived in cramped, unsani-
tary quarters. They also found themselves at the mercy of fluctuating job
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and money markets. Thus developed what Romans called the urban prole-
tariat, from the Latin word proles meaning child, since many of these people
had little to show for their lives except their children. When Julius Caesar’s
contemporary, the historian Sallust, wrote about the many Roman citizens
who found themselves trapped by the twin burdens of military service to
the state and poverty, he no doubt had the proletariat chiefly in mind.
Those Roman senators who took note of these burdens on the “com-
mon man” in the countryside and in the cities attempted to find remedies
through land reform. Specifically, a number of leges agraria (land reform
laws) in the second century BCE targeted those wealthy landowners who
had illegally gobbled up public land as their own. The idea behind these
measures was basically to reclaim a sizable portion of this land for the state
(sometimes by confiscation and sometimes with compensation) and redis-
tribute that portion to thousands of family farmers (who could benefit from
the extra acreage) and members of the proletariat (who could leave the
hungry streets of Rome for a new life on the land). About three decades
before the time of Sallust and Caesar, the most famous of these land reform
measures, those of the Popularis tribunes, the brothers Tiberius and Caius
Sempronius Gracchus, caused considerable political turmoil and contrib-
uted to the violent deaths of both men, but also resettled tens of thousands
of citizens as farmers.
Not only had agriculture changed greatly in large sections of Italy and
urban problems emerged never-before seen but also the number of available
recruits from the countryside to defend Rome’s ever-growing overseas
commitments shrank. There was a traditional qualification of land-ownership
for military eligibility; the Roman government steadily lowered it during
the second and third centuries BCE as the only way to enlist enough men
for long, far-off foreign campaigns. At the close of the second century,
Caesar’s uncle, General Marius, disregarded the property qualification al-
together and recruited volunteers for his campaigns largely from the pro-
letariat. Since the Senate by that point had pretty well left up to individual
generals the responsibility of providing for their troops from the spoils of
war, Marius decided to reward his soldiers with grants of land in conquered
territories outside Italy.
Once influential generals got involved in the process of securing farm-
land for their veterans, they often incorporated into the measures for doing
so stipulations of land reform for the Roman proletariat as well. When Ju-
lius Caesar, as consul in 59 BCE, proposed to the Senate that land be granted
to the veterans of his ally, General Pompey, as a reward for their service in
the East, he included in his bill a provision that poor Roman men who were
attempting to support families with three or more children should also be
granted land, at ten iugera (about six acres) apiece. The land would come
from the government’s store of ager publicus in the Stellas plain; later, when
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it became clear that more land would be needed for distribution, Caesar
proposed that public land in Campania, the fertile region around the Bay
of Naples, also be included. Since he wished to see no confiscations or forc-
ible evictions, he proposed that funds accrued from Pompey’s conquests in
the East should be used to pay off the tenant-farmers there and to purchase
whatever other land was required for the project. A special board of twenty
commissioners elected by the voters (much larger than that created by the
Gracchi brothers, but modeled on their idea) would supervise and admin-
ister the whole business.
Caesar’s lex agraria thus rewarded Pompey’s troops and eased the over-
population of Rome; in the ager Campanus alone, it eventually settled at
least 20,000 men of the proletariat and their families; it guaranteed secure
ownership of good farmland, since the parcels were declared inalienable
(prohibited from resale) for a period of twenty years. This was a rather
modest land reform, in fact, and yet, like that of the Gracchi noted earlier, it
encountered strong opposition. In the Senate, Caesar’s opponents among
the Optimates, Bibulus, Cato, Metellus Celer and others, attempted to ob-
struct passage of his measure by many means. When Caesar bypassed the
Senate and took his bill directly to the Tribal Assembly, his colleague, Bib-
ulus, declared the obnuntiatio, that the auspices (the signs from the gods
perceived in the flights of birds) were not favorable for any kind of meeting
or vote; several tribunes loyal to the Optimates imposed their vetoes against
Caesar’s measure. To overcome these very determined and very clever en-
emies, Caesar employed force, calling upon Pompey’s veterans, as well as
the clients of himself and their ally Crassus, to literally push opponents out
of the Roman Forum and intimidate undecided voters into supporting the
land reform; the bill passed.
Ironically, despite so much political and social struggle, land reform
within Italy seems to have done little to change the rural or urban land-
scapes by the end of the Republic. Migration into towns over a long period
had created such a market for imported food, especially grain, from places
like Sicily, Sardinia, and North Africa, that resettlement of small farmers in
Italy and reliance on their produce could not reverse it. In addition, soldier-
farmers often did not even want to return to the difficult life in the country
after having had a taste of sophisticated urban life overseas; they preferred
to live in towns. As one civil war after another gripped the Republic in its
final decades, tens of thousands of proletarians and small farmers joined
the ranks of one or another army under one or another competing gen-
eral. If they survived the fighting, their commanders rewarded them with
money and land taken from enemies (including fellow Romans), some in
Italy, but most in the provinces. For example, after his victories over Pom-
pey’s faction, Caesar himself relocated close to 200,000 citizens and their
families to conquered territories in Spain, North Africa, southern France,
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Greece, and Turkey; though some of these were proletarians still residing
in Rome, most were veterans of his campaigns. Yet, the proletariat of Rome
remained, comprising the vast majority of the city’s approximately one mil-
lion inhabitants in the time of Caesar’s great-nephew, the emperor Augus-
tus, and so did the latifundia of the wealthy all across Italy. Neither land
reform nor even civil war altered that.
See also: Agriculture; Army; Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Colo-
nies; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Debt Laws/Loans; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE);
Optimates; Plebs; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Populares;
Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Senate; Slavery/Slaves; Trade; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Finley, M. I. 1985. The Ancient Economy. London: Hogarth Press.
Garnsey, P., and R. Saller. 1987. The Roman Empire: Economy, Society and Culture.
Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.
McElduff, S. 2011. Cicero: In Defence of the Republic. New York: Penguin Pub-
lishing.
University Press.
Legal Profession
Julius Caesar, before becoming the famous conqueror known to later gen-
erations, made a name for himself in Rome as a result of his skill in the legal
world.
Roman law seems to have developed originally in the religious sphere, an
outgrowth of the contractual nature of the Romans’ relationship with their
gods. Whether ius civile, law applied to citizens, or ius gentium, law applied
to all peoples, Roman law, like Roman religious rituals, was extremely for-
mulaic and traditional, which meant that exact words, phrases, definitions,
and procedures had to be followed. It should not surprise us, then, that
the original experts in law among the Romans were priests, specifically the
pontiffs, whose job it was to memorize not only the religious rituals but
also the customs of the community and to advise the political leaders on the
interpretation of those customs. Even after the most significant customs,
the statutes of the Popular Assemblies, the recommendations of the Senate,
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and the edicts of the magistrates (especially of the praetors) were commit-
ted to writing, pontiffs continued to serve as the interpreters and guardians
of Roman law.
From the third or second century BCE, it became acceptable for other
senators to study with the pontiffs one-on-one and become legal experts
themselves, known as iurisconsulti or iurisprudentes, and in turn to inter-
pret laws for their friends and clients, even for the judges who presided in
the Roman courts; they did this without pay but usually with the expecta-
tion of some sort of favor in return.
During the Republic, such jurists themselves became instructors in law
and legal procedures, primarily by example; that is, an interested student
attended on the jurist while the latter advised others. Certain elite families
(famously the Mucii Scaevolae during the Late Republic) gained great pres-
tige and influence by developing a family tradition of legal expertise; their
“profession” remained small and tight-knit, since only certain families per-
mitted only certain new individuals to become part of it. Caesar’s contem-
porary, Cicero, as a young man, studied under both Q. Mucius Scaevola the
Augur and Q. Mucius Scaevola the Pontifex, the greatest legal minds pro-
duced during the Late Republic. Caesar himself, in his capacities as a pon-
tiff from 73 BCE and Pontifex Maximus from 63 BCE onward, had to have
acquired some formal legal expertise as well, though not as much as Cicero.
In the period of the Roman Emperors, legal experts established private
schools of law, producing great jurists and major works of instruction, in-
terpretation, and synthesis, including not only legal material from the Re-
public but also the considerable output of the emperors themselves, as well
as other cultures’ ideas of legal methods and principles, especially Greek.
Roman jurists handed down their traditions to many future generations,
including our own.
Despite the presence and prominence of such jurists in Roman society,
there was no expectation that either a plaintiff or defendant would consult
them and certainly no right to legal counsel or representation, no system of
legal aid. In fact, self-help was such a major element of the Roman legal sys-
tem that, for most crimes, the wronged individual, or that individual’s close
relatives or friends, had the responsibility of formally accusing the alleged
wrongdoer; this is, in fact, the origin of the Western concepts of the right
to defend oneself in court and the right to face one’s accuser. In a Roman
court, one literally stood up in one’s own defense, presenting evidence, wit-
nesses, and one’s argument against the defendant.
Women, however, were not permitted to represent themselves in court
nor were minors or those without Roman citizenship. Obviously, this
opened an opportunity for Roman men to play the part of defenders for
these vulnerable members of society. In addition, Roman citizen males
themselves, whether poor or wealthy, might not have the confidence in
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their own ability to make a convincing case in court, or the stakes in the
case might have been too high to risk such a thing. In these circumstances
also, a defender could be called in, what the Romans called an advocatus,
which we might loosely translate as lawyer.
Such men were established orators, of which Rome had plenty in the
Late Republic, since the style of education Rome had adopted from the
Greeks focused heavily on developing one’s rhetorical skills. There was no
bar exam to pass, however, no professional associations to police the quality
of these advocates, and they were not even required to have any particular
knowledge of the law; this is why there was always a distinction in Rome
between advocati and iurisprudentes (the latter considering themselves su-
perior to the former). The best advocates, though, like Cicero, did have
professional juristic training, and it certainly helped make him one of the
most successful lawyers of his day.
A lawyer was expected to present the truth, but, unlike in our system, he
was not required to respect the law as a friend of the court (amicus curiae)
rather than subvert it if necessary to clear his client. Basically, an advocate
was judged on his ability to persuade the court, and his one and only mis-
sion was to win the case, even if he knowingly got a guilty man off the hook.
Advocates were often the patrons of those they protected in court; they
were, therefore, not supposed to be paid in the traditional sense, but rather
exchanged the favor of winning the case with a favor which their client
would do for them someday, or perhaps they acted as advocate to pay back
a favor they owed the party in court.
Cicero and Crassus, Caesar’s associate, were the best-known courtroom
lawyers of their day, practicing their craft for long periods of their lives and
building political clout upon such advocacy. Caesar also attained his first
prestige, when only in his twenties, as an advocate; he prosecuted the sena-
tors Dolabella and Antonius, two former henchmen of the dictator Sulla,
representing the interests of several communities in Greece that had suf-
fered abuses at the hands of those two men. Though Caesar did not win
these cases, his eloquence and charm as an advocate, and his seeming sup-
port of the underdog, gained him a great many admirers, which helped sig-
nificantly to fuel his political career.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE);
Education; Oratory; Patrons and Clients; Pontifex Maximus
Further Reading
Crook, J. A. 1995. Legal Advocacy in the Roman World. Ithaca, NY: Cornell Uni-
versity Press.
Frier, B. W. 1985. The Rise of the Roman Jurists. Princeton, NJ: Princeton Univer-
sity Press.
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Legions
Legions
The word legio derives from the Latin verb legere, which not only means to
read but also to gather, choose, or select. In other words, a legion (to use
the English version of the term) was a selection of Rome’s fighting men
gathered together. Originally, it applied to the entire contingent of soldiers
thus chosen for a campaign (which might also be referred to as the classis,
the calling together or convocation); by the fourth century BCE, it denoted
one of the several major divisions of the Roman army as a whole.
The legion developed structurally over a long period of time, experienc-
ing significant modifications along the way in an effort to make the fight-
ing force more maneuverable, resilient, and self-sufficient. In the late third
century BCE, for example, the Romans basically divided each legion into
three groups: velites (light-armed skirmishers), immunes (specialists), and
milites (soldiers, in this case, heavily armored). On the field of battle, they
drew up the legion with the 1,200 velites out in front. Behind them stood
three acies or agmine (lines or ranks) of milites. The first line consisted of
ten tactical units known as “bundles” (manipuli in Latin) or maniples,
Parade of men in legionary costumes to celebrate the anniversary of the foundation of

Rome (Natale di Roma), in the city of Rome on April 17, 2011. (Paolo Cipriani/
iStockphoto.com)
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Legions
each with 120 men; in other words, 1,200 soldiers stood in the first line.
The second line was organized in the same fashion, while the third line
contained ten maniples of only sixty men each, for a total of 600 men in
the rearguard. The approximately 800 immunes served as engineers, med-
ics, record-keepers, and so on; as the name implies, they were generally im-
mune or exempt from normal fighting duties unless needed in emergency
conditions.
Thus, the typical legion came to consist of some 5,000 soldiers. By the
end of the second century BCE, the Romans more or less abandoned the
use of velites (replacing their function with skirmishers recruited from sub-
ject populations) as well as the manipular division of each legion in favor
of subdivision into cohorts (cohortes); some credit Julius Caesar’s uncle by
marriage, C. Marius, with this change, though the basis for it went back
to the Second Punic War of the previous century. By the time of Caesar
himself, each legion consisted of ten cohorts, sometimes arrayed in the old
three lines, sometimes in a newer fashion, like the squares of like color on a
chessboard, in other words, blocks of men in rank and file.
The earliest evidence for assigning numbers to each legion of the Roman
army comes from Caesar’s own campaigns in Gaul (roughly modern
France) and in the Civil War that followed, that is, from the middle of the
first century BCE; Caesar seems to have designated at least thirty-seven le-
gions by number by the conclusion of all his campaigns. The numbering
can get confusing, though, when he uses a different number for the same
legion in the Gallic War as opposed to the Civil War (e.g., Legion Fifteen in
the former became Pompey’s Legion Three in the latter).
In his own commentaries on these wars, Caesar took special notice of
each legion when it seemed appropriate for him to do so. For instance,
he noted that the First Legion (which he had employed in Gaul but later
handed over to Pompey—to hand over to Bibulus for the Parthian cam-
paign of 50 BCE) fought for Pompey at the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BCE and
lost men to Caesar through desertion from Pompey’s son, Cnaeus, in the
Spanish campaign of 45 BCE
The Second Legion, posted to the province of Further Spain (roughly
southern Spain) under Caesar’s lieutenant, Q. Cassius Longinus, mutinied
against the latter in 48 BCE. It faced opposition from three fresh legions, the
Twenty-First and the Thirtieth, newly recruited from Italy and left behind
in Spain by Caesar himself, and the Fifth Legion, recruited by Cassius from
Roman citizens residing in Spain. Under pressure from these, the Second
Legion fell back into line briefly, only to become mutinous soon after, set-
ting in motion a chain reaction of events that cost Cassius his command
and his life. Three years later, the soldiers of the Fifth Legion proved their
bravery and steadiness in the operations leading up to the critical Battle of
Munda between Caesar and Cnaeus Pompey. During the gruesome battle
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itself, the Fifth Legion took up position alongside the Third Legion on the
left wing of Caesar’s army; it waited until the enemy shifted troops away
from that sector to reinforce another and then joined Caesar’s cavalry in
applying tremendous pressure against the enemy, leaving no room for re-
inforcements to move in. Their opponents succumbed to this pressure in
spite of courageous resistance.
During that same campaign against Pompey’s eldest son, the Sixth Le-
gion fought for Caesar outside the Spanish town of Ategua. This must be
the same veteran force that had served with Caesar in Gaul and later in the
Alexandrian War of late 48–early 47 BCE. He also led the much-depleted
(reduced to less than 1,000 soldiers) Sixth Legion against King Pharnaces
of Bosporus in the summer of 47 BCE; the battle at Zela saw the unit posi-
tioned on the critical right wing, joining in fierce and determined hand-to-
hand combat with the enemy, making much faster work of the latter than
the rest of Caesar’s army and driving them down the hill from his camp.
The Seventh Legion featured prominently in Caesar’s Gallic Wars, hon-
ored, for instance, with a place on the right wing during the campaign to
conquer Belgica (the northeastern extremity of Gaul corresponding roughly
to today’s Belgium, northeastern France, and southwestern Holland) in 58
BCE. This unit, together with the Twelfth Legion, found itself seriously
hard-pressed by the enemy warriors of the Nervii tribe. Indeed, the Twelfth
Legion had lost many of its noncommissioned officers not to mention most
of its formation, its ranks crushed and in disarray under enemy assaults,
some soldiers in the rear even running from the field. Caesar appeared sud-
denly on the scene, jumping into the fray himself and ordering the military
tribunes, the six junior officers of each unit, to combine their two legions
together, back-to-back, so as to protect each other’s rear and then meet the
enemy attacks. This helped turn the victory to the Roman side.
Neither the Seventh nor the Twelfth Legion had any rest from diffi-
cult operations in the following year. Caesar assigned the Twelfth Legion
to clean out the Gallic brigands who terrorized and extorted wealth from
travelers and traders in the Alpine region between Italy and what is today
Switzerland; local resistance proved quite costly. Meanwhile, the Seventh
Legion, posted peacefully, it was thought, near the Atlantic coast of Gaul,
found itself right in the middle of an uprising led by the Veneti, who, in-
deed, arrested four of the legion’s commissioned officers. Caesar amassed
much of his army and launched a fleet into the Atlantic to counter this
threat to security in the region and to his Seventh Legion.
Five years later, Caesar’s principal legate, T. Labienus, commanded four
legions against the northern Gallic tribes that supported the famous resis-
tance leader, Vercingetorix. Among those forces, Labienus placed on his
right wing the Seventh Legion and on his left wing the Twelfth Legion;
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Legions
the former ripped through the enemy lines, wheeled round their rear, and
joined the latter legion to destroy the remainder.
Though inseparable in the Gallic campaign, the Seventh Legion receives
no mention from the sources (not even Caesar’s own writings) in their ac-
counts of the Civil War, while the Twelfth Legion reached Caesar in central
Italy within a month of his invasion, when that next conflict began. Com-
ing from its station in Transalpine Gaul (today’s Provence), Caesar must
have summoned the Twelfth Legion from the other side of the Alps even
before his own decision to cross the Rubicon.
Like the Seventh and Twelfth Legions, the Eighth Legion had been in
Belgica, too, fighting alongside the Eleventh Legion, the two advancing
together at the center of the Roman position. Nearly a decade later, dur-
ing the first months of 49 BCE, the first months of the Civil War, the Eighth
Legion participated in the Siege of Corfinium in central Italy. It also rein-
forced the badly weakened veteran Ninth Legion, the troops of the two
units standing together, almost merging, with no gap between them, on
the battlefield of Pharsalus in the summer of 48 BCE. They, thus, held the
left wing in that key defeat of Pompey himself. The Eleventh Legion evi-
dently participated at Pharsalus as well, along with the Twelfth Legion,
both of which had formed part of the expeditionary force of Caesar’s lieu-
tenant, Domitius Calvinus, in northern Greece.
The Ninth Legion had served Caesar with exceptional, if not always in-
formed, enthusiasm over the years. This was seen as early as 58 BCE, when it
operated in the conquest of Belgica next to the more famous Tenth Legion
(Caesar’s favorite), together on the left wing driving the warriors of the
Atrebates from the field after throwing themselves across the River Sambre
into enemy-held territory. Again, in summer of 49 BCE, during the Battle of
Ilerda against Pompey’s legates in Spain, the unit not only helped reverse
a panic that had spread through Caesar’s troops but also placed itself in
foolish danger, according to their commander in chief’s own assessment of
events, by rushing the retreating enemy uphill; the Ninth Legion thereby
precipitated more of a battle than Caesar had then intended, but he fol-
lowed their lead and did not abandon the legion, which just kept fighting
despite the difficult terrain. Wave after wave of reinforcements secured an
eventual victory for Caesar. Similarly, the Ninth Legion got into a bind dur-
ing operations against Pompey himself in the region around Dyrrachium
(Durazzo in Albania) about six months later; under Marc Antony’s com-
mand, they turned the tables on the enemy troops (with some covering
assistance from Caesar), again fighting uphill. Afterward, the unit, despite
serious depletion in numbers as well as in the critical noncommissioned
officers known as centurions, still played an important role, led by Caesar
himself, in the efforts to bottle Pompey’s army up in that same region and
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in the Battle of Pharsalus, as noted earlier. The Ninth Legion reinforced

Caesar a year and half later during his campaign against Pompey’s father-
in-law, Metellus Scipio, in North Africa.
By then, Caesar had elevated the Ninth Legion to almost the same sta-
tus as the Tenth Legion. Certainly, among all his fighting units, the Tenth
Legion received his greatest favor and praise for its soldiers’ courage and
exceptional skill; it served him very well in the major battles from 58 to 46
BCE (though less so near the end). Both units made the difficult crossing
from Sicily together, punished by storms, hunger, and dehydration. In the
Battle of Thapsus, the Ninth Legion held the left wing, while the Tenth Le-
gion held its frequent place on the right.
At the start of the Civil War, Caesar had with him only one legion,
the Thirteenth Legion (the rest being still in Gaul), whose soldiers, de-
spite any fears or worries about the superior numbers of their adversaries
south of the Rubicon, declared their readiness to protect Caesar and the
plebeian tribunes who had come to him for refuge; they were ready to
march against the Republic itself, and they were the first of his legions
to do so. Three years later, at about the same season, the Thirteenth and
Fourteenth Legions (the latter had served in Spain against Pompey’s
legates in the summer of 49 BCE) made the journey across from Sicily to
North Africa, joining the Ninth and Tenth Legions to reinforce Caesar
in his difficult campaign against the Pompeian generals and the king of
Numidia.
Also there were the Twenty-fifth, Twenty-sixth, Twenty-eighth, and
Twenty-ninth Legions, noted only in this latter campaign and without fur-
ther details about their specific conduct. Like the Twenty-first and Thirtieth
Legions that served Caesar’s legates in Spain, or the Twenty-seventh and
Thirty-sixth Legions that served under his lieutenants in northern Greece,
these legions consisted of relatively new troops, recruited within the Civil
War period itself and of varying reliability and competence.
Legionaries of whatever period or type had to be Roman citizens by law.
To add particular skills (such a horsemanship, archery, slinging, etc.) to
those possessed by the Roman troops, to spread the risks of battle, and to
make the most of allied or subject populations, the Romans attached con-
tingents from those other peoples to each legion. These auxilia (“help-
ers”) or auxiliary forces might even outnumber the citizen-soldiers, one of
the reasons they were commanded not by their own but by Roman officers
called prefects. Certainly, Caesar’s legions relied heavily on auxiliaries, es-
pecially cavalry forces from Gaul and Spain, but, never one to follow the
rules, Caesar went one step further by recruiting from the non-citizen Gal-
lic towns in Provence to create a legion he called Fifth Alaudae (“Larks”);
this first “foreign” legion served with him in North Africa and again
in Spain.
460
Caesar utilized the Roman legion more effectively and with more inge-
nuity than any commander before him. He pressed the legionary formation
to its limits and his legionaries seemed to bear out his claim that with them
he could storm Mount Olympus against the gods themselves.
See also: Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Antony/Anto-
nius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Belgae; Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bel-
lum Gallicum (Caesar); Centurions; Citizenship; Corfinium, Siege of (49
BCE); Crossing the Rubicon; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Labienus (d. 45 BCE);
Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Memoirs; Munda, Battle of (45 BCE); Ocean;
Pharnaces (d. 47 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48
BCE); Spain; Standards; Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE); Thessaly; Vercingeto-
rix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Goldsworthy, A. 1996. The Roman Army at War 100 BC–AD 200. Oxford, UK: Ox-
ford University Press.
Keppie, L. 1998. The Making of the Roman Army. New York and London: Rout-
ledge.

During Julius Caesar’s teenage years, Civil War had raged in Rome be-
tween, on the one side, partisans of Marius (his uncle) and Cinna (his
father-in-law) and, on the other, partisans of Sulla (their mutual political
rival). Not every partisan had stuck to one side; indeed, several prominent
figures in this Civil War had changed sides, including a Roman aristocrat
named M. Aemilius Lepidus. Lepidus well represented the political oppor-
tunism of the times, taking advantage of unsettled conditions to forward
his own ambitions. In this way, he became a model for Caesar and for his
own son, Lepidus the Triumvir, who joined Caesar, and later Antony and
Octavian, in their attempts to control the Republic.
During the Social War (the conflict between the Roman State and al-
lied communities in Italy, known as socii, that preceded and fed into the
civil strife noted earlier), Lepidus the Elder served under the command of
Pompey’s father, Cn. Pompeius Strabo, in the northern theater of opera-
tions. Once Civil War actually loomed, or perhaps right after the assassina-
tion of Pompeius Strabo, or perhaps after Marius and Cinna gained control
of Rome, Lepidus cooperated with them, as did many other members of
Rome’s upper class. This cooperation lasted only until the return of Sulla
461
to Italy, who ignited civil strife all over again to destroy the faction of his
enemies. Lepidus had probably never really supported Sulla’s rivals; from
the first mention of him in the historical record, he appears to be interested
simply in his own survival and advancement.
Having joined Sulla, Lepidus certainly survived and advanced. He be-
came rich from Sulla’s proscriptions, the lists of wanted men who could
be killed with impunity and whose property could then be confiscated by
the killer. Yet, even though Sulla held a virtually unassailable position in
the state, Lepidus began openly challenging the new order of affairs in-
stituted by him. Everyone knew this when Lepidus ran for one of the
two annual consulships, the highest public offices in Rome, in the elec-
tions of 79 BCE (for 78 BCE); the historian Sallust preserved a version of a
speech Lepidus delivered either during the campaign or just after his elec-
tion, encapsulating a scathing indictment of Sulla’s “tyranny.” Sulla had
retired from the dictatorship the year before and so only spoke against
Lepidus as a private citizen, without power to stop him, but many peo-
ple must have listened and followed Sulla’s authority since, to keep the
“violent,” “hot-tempered,” “unrestrained” Lepidus in check, the voters
elected Sulla’s trusted friend, Q. Lutatius Catulus the Younger, as equal
colleague with Lepidus. Those who backed Lepidus, however, included
others whom Sulla thought he could trust, especially Pompey. Sulla had
welcomed Pompey into his faction during the Civil War, awarded him an
unprecedented triumph, and even honored him with the nickname “Mag-
nus” (“Great One”). Yet, here was Pompey using all his popularity and in-
fluence to guarantee that someone Sulla regarded as a loose cannon would
gain a consulship.
Sulla warned Pompey about the danger Lepidus presented, but perhaps
Pompey welcomed that danger. Perhaps he saw Lepidus as a challenge to
build up and then glory in bringing down. Upon Sulla’s death in spring
78 BCE, an opportunity for this appeared. Lepidus, in his capacity as con-
sul, attempted to prevent the public funeral ordered by the Senate for the
former dictator. Pompey stood in his way, both through persuasion and
through threats of violence; it was he who escorted the funeral proces-
sion and guaranteed a peaceful and honorable cremation and interment
of Sulla’s remains. Lepidus apparently held back and accepted defeat, for
the moment.
On the political front, Lepidus, as consul, sought two things: to renew
the distribution of cheap grain to the Roman populace, which Sulla had
discontinued, and to restore those exiled, dispossessed, and disenfranchised
by Sulla. Achieving these goals would calm socioeconomic and political
unrest, but more important to Lepidus, it would gain for him tremendous
popular support. Evidence suggests that he did succeed in re-implementing
the grain dole, but he failed to carry his other proposals because of the
462
staunch opposition from supporters of Sulla in the Senate, who labeled

Lepidus “tyrant” and “Cinna” in their speeches against him.
An opportunity to acquire greater leverage against such opponents
presented itself in northern Italy, in the region of Etruria (modern Tus-
cany). There, local landowners, who had been evicted at Sulla’s orders for
having supported Marius and Cinna, their properties handed over to his
veterans, attacked these colonists, killing many of them and taking back
the lands that had been confiscated from them. Such localized distur-
bances threatened to spread, if unchecked, throughout Italy, everywhere
Sulla had established veteran colonies. Lepidus proposed to suppress the
problem in Etruria. He had been assigned the territories to the north,
what the Romans called Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul (northernmost
Italy and southernmost France, respectively), as his proconsular provinces
for the following year; if he assumed command of the provincial garrisons
ahead of time, he could end the uprising and make an example of the in-
surgents.
The Senate, however, distrusted Lepidus on his own, and so sent both
him and his colleague, Catulus, with troops to quash the Etrurians. Catu-
lus had seen it as his mission to keep Lepidus in check since the time of the
elections that had brought both of them into the consulship; he had stood
with Pompey to make sure that Sulla was not denied a state funeral; he
surely opposed the restoration of those who had been punished by Sulla at
the conclusion of the Civil War. In addition, Catulus had probably already
put through a new law to curb public, especially politically motivated, vio-
lence in Rome, which Lepidus had been engaged in from the time he broke
from Sulla’s direction.
To handle matters in Etruria, Lepidus and Catulus had to set aside their
strong political differences; they each swore a sacred oath not to resolve
those differences by force of arms. They then left the city of Rome with their
armies, with the plan to catch the rebels in a pincer movement. So, Lepidus
took the Via Cassia through the mountains, while Catulus marched north-
ward by way of the coast road, the Via Aurelia. By the time they arrived in
Etruria, however, they discovered that the uprising had petered out, evi-
dently for want of adequate leadership. The crisis over, Catulus returned
home, expecting that Lepidus would proceed to his provincial assignment.
Instead, Lepidus began to stir up the rebels all over again. He met with
them and addressed the local populations, promising to the discontented
victims of Sulla a reversal of the latter’s policy of confiscations and coloniza-
tion; Lepidus became so popular that he soon raised a large army from the
region of Etruria, as well as from both of his Gallic provinces, and he even
went so far as to make contact with another former Cinnan, Q. Sertorius,
who had already rebelled against the Senate and seized control of the prov-
inces of Spain about two years earlier.
463
Lepidus’s motivation in doing all this was likely ambition rather than
anything else, but the surviving enemies of Sulla, in Rome itself, through-
out Italy, and even in exile, now regarded him as a champion fighting for
the rights of dispossessed citizens; thus, he was joined probably at this time
by L. Cornelius Cinna the Younger (Caesar’s brother-in-law), M. Perperna
Veiento, and other former Cinnans. Caesar himself had the opportunity to
join as well; Lepidus tried very hard to get him on board, making the young
man all sorts of offers, but Caesar apparently had little confidence in Lepi-
dus’s prospects of victory and so stayed out of things.
The Senate, meanwhile, ordered Lepidus to cease his renegade activi-
ties and disband his army, but he refused. They instructed him to return to
Rome to join Catulus in conducting the elections for their successors in the
consulship; he refused. Instead, he demanded a second consulship for him-
self and threatened to march on Rome if that were not granted.
Lepidus had, thus, determined on a course of action similar to that of
Sulla in 88 BCE, Cinna in 87 BCE, and Sulla again in 84 BCE. The Senate
panicked and sent envoys to negotiate with Lepidus. He added another de-
mand: restoration of the full powers of the office of plebeian tribune, from
which Sulla had stripped most key privileges. This move gained Lepidus
even more popularity in Rome among the lower classes and those commit-
ted to traditional rights.
The envoys apparently made some sort of deal with Lepidus, to which
the Senate agreed, but later reneged. By that time, his year as consul had
run out and, no elections having been held, there were no new consuls
to replace him or Catulus in 77 BCE. The Senate recognized the latter’s
continuing authority as proconsul and, apparently, did nothing to rescind
Lepidus’s proconsular imperium (provincial command) either, probably to
maintain good faith in the negotiations with him. He continued to exercise
this power through his legate (lieutenant), M. Iunius Brutus (father of the
famous Brutus, assassin of Caesar). Lepidus in response to the Senate’s wa-
vering on a deal, led his sizable, growing army on the march against Rome.
Not long into this year-without-consuls, L. Marcius Philippus, the old-
est living consular (one who formerly held the consulship, a distinction
of some significance to the Romans) and someone who had already once
stood against Lepidus during the controversy over Sulla’s funeral (Philip-
pus actually delivered the eulogy), aroused the Senate (especially through
a speech that raked Lepidus’s reputation and that of his followers over the
coals) to finally pass its ultimate decree, the senatus consultum ultimum; it
authorized the magistrates of Rome, particularly the proconsul Catulus, to
do whatever was necessary to safeguard the Republic against the danger
presented by Lepidus’s rebellion. Philippus also persuaded the Senate to
give Catulus a special legate in this campaign, Pompey, who was champing
at the bit for military action and a chance to enhance his reputation, even
464
against Lepidus, whom he had so strongly supported for the consulship

in the first place. As previously noted, perhaps Pompey had foreseen that
one day he would have the opportunity to take down the man he had once
propped up.
Nevertheless, it was Catulus who took command of the forces that di-
rectly engaged Lepidus’s army and defeated it not far from Rome (the date
probably the summer of 77 BCE). Lepidus and many of his officers and men
survived that first battle, but then received bad news from Cisalpine Gaul:
Pompey had secured that territory for the Senate. Having chased Brutus’s
army into taking refuge at the town of Mutina (modern Modena), Pompey
placed them under a long siege. Eventually, Brutus felt compelled by his
men to negotiate a surrender; he handed himself over to Pompey on condi-
tion of safe conduct but was seized the next day and executed at Pompey’s
orders.
Lepidus withdrew from the environs of Rome to the city of Cosa on the
Etrurian coast to make another stand; Catulus pursued and defeated them
in a second battle. Those who survived this time, including the severely
wounded Lepidus, escaped by ship across the sea to the island of Sardinia;
Lepidus apparently made a last stand against the governor there but died
soon after from illness. The remnants of Lepidus’s forces, especially the
aristocrats among them, fled from Italy and Sardinia. Under the leadership
of Perperna, they found temporary refuge in Sertorius’s Spain, where they
continued the fight against “Sulla’s Senate.”
In the aftermath of Sulla’s victory over the forces of Marius and Cinna in
82 BCE, the latter were survived by the proscribed who managed to escape
immediate execution through flight, as well as by the families, especially
the children, of the proscribed; with the exception of a very few individuals
who gained protection from partisans on his side, like young Julius Caesar,
Sulla had stripped these enemies and their families of their ancestral privi-
leges and rights. Marius and Cinna were also survived, however, by ren-
egades who had turned against them in the end and thereby had escaped
destruction at the hands of Sulla and could continue to work within the
political and military system of the Republic. In other words, there were
many “enemies” around, within the ranks as well as outside, and, in the
end, many of them sought and demanded reinstatement to full citizenship.
Lepidus, following his own personal ambition, showed them one way
to strive for their goal, through rebellion. When this failed, they turned to
political agitation and the law; here, Caesar played a big part. Within less
than a decade, such means secured the restoration of the tribunes’ pow-
ers, as well as recall of exiles, with amnesty returning some of their citizen-
ship rights. Yet, this struggle could not have succeeded without further
rebellious behavior in imitation of Lepidus, especially the grab for both
consulships achieved by Pompey and Crassus in 70 BCE, who threatened,
465
as Lepidus had done, to use their armies against the Republic if it did not
grant their demands. Furthermore, the former exiles did not gain restora-
tion of full political privileges for another two decades, when yet another
renegade general, Julius Caesar, followed in the footsteps of Lepidus, this
time actually conquering Rome with his own army, as he claimed, to “pro-
tect” the tribunes and fight for people’s rights.
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Cinna
the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE); Citizenship;
Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina;
Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius
(ca.157–86 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Proscriptions; Provinces; Senatus
Consultum Ultimum; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Grant, M. 1994. Cicero, On Government. New York: Penguin Publishing.
York: Penguin.
endon Press.
University Press.

The son of a famous traitor to the Roman Republic, M. Aemilius Lepidus
emerged from relative obscurity to become one of the most influential play-
ers in the senatorial faction loyal to Julius Caesar. Taking full advantage of
the opportunities opened by civil strife, both before and after Caesar’s de-
mise, Lepidus parleyed his influence into a place for himself on top of the
Roman world, though not alone and not for long.
The year 49 BCE witnessed the beginning of a new Civil War, with Cae-
sar’s invasion of Italy against the political opponents who had already de-
clared him a public enemy and would have stripped him of everything he
had achieved. The consuls of that year, the highest officials of state, had
466
helped to precipitate this and sided with Pompey, Caesar’s chief rival. Their
departure from Rome, and, in fact, from Italy left a vacuum in leadership.
Still trying to show some measure of respect for their continued authority,
Caesar seems to have done little to fill their place, aside from securing Italy
for his cause by posting his soldiers and officers in various locations across
the peninsula and leaving them under the command of Marc Antony, one
of his most trusted lieutenants; indeed, though Caesar had invaded Italy
during the second week of January, he did not even come to Rome itself
until the first day of April, and, then, only for a few days to confer with the
senators still there. He had too much else to do, having defeated his de-
clared enemies in southern Italy and having more fighting to see to in the
provinces of Transalpine Gaul (today’s Provence) and Spain.
In the midst of all the chaos of the year, administration of Rome and
Italy must have fallen primarily to the praetors, second in rank among the
elected magistrates of Rome. One of those praetors was Lepidus. What he
had done for the first ten months of his term is a mystery, but he came to
the fore perhaps late in October by nominating Caesar as dictator and pass-
ing a law authorizing that office through the Assembly of Centuries. This
appointment is especially ironic, since Caesar had built his legal and politi-
cal career in opposition to the last person who had held the dictatorship
in Rome, L. Cornelius Sulla. Still, without the presence of the consuls in
Rome, an extraordinary executive magistrate (which was the basic Roman
definition of a dictator) was called for, following Roman custom, especially
to supervise and conduct elections for the consuls of the upcoming year.
Caesar accepted the dictatorship and, on his return to Rome, served in that
capacity for eleven days. To no one’s surprise, the elections returned him as
one of the new consuls.
Why Lepidus had sided with Caesar and not Pompey, and why he had
proposed that Caesar be made dictator, remains as mysterious as the rest of
his activities as praetor. Perhaps he agreed with Caesar’s politics; perhaps he
hated Pompey for having contributed to the downfall of his father, Lepi-
dus the Elder, three decades earlier. Whatever Lepidus’s reasons, Caesar
did not forget to reward him; he certainly arranged for Lepidus to become
governor (propraetor) of Nearer Spain (roughly eastern Spain) in the year
48 BCE.
Near the end of that year, he was called upon to come to the aid of an-
other young senator who had stood by Caesar back in 49 BCE, Q. Cassius
Longinus (cousin of the later assassin of Caesar); Cassius was serving as the
governor of Further Spain (roughly southern Spain) in 48 BCE, where he
provoked an uprising among his own troops and the local population. With
his arrival on the scene, Lepidus, instead of siding with Cassius against the
mutineers, offered to broker a settlement between the latter and his sol-
diers, led now by Cassius’s lieutenant. Despite, or perhaps because of, the
467
fact that Lepidus had a sufficient force behind him to secure peace, Cassius
felt unsure about all this and risked a dangerous escape out to sea. Caught
in bad weather, his ship sank and he drowned.
On his return from the provinces in 46 BCE, Lepidus received more re-
ward, first of all, the honor of a triumphal celebration (for which he had
done nothing traditionally meritorious except to restore order in Spain) and,
secondly, the honor of holding the consulship with Caesar himself. These
privileges, like the others above, demonstrate the trust that Caesar had come
to repose in Lepidus, but none says that more than the office of Master of
Horse (Magister Equitum), second-in-command to the dictator, conferred
upon him from 46 BCE through 44 BCE. In that capacity, Lepidus was left
with the primary responsibility of administering the Roman State, and espe-
cially affairs in Italy and Rome itself, in Caesar’s absence; for example, the
latter spent only three months or so in Rome in 46 BCE, waging wars the rest
of the year against his enemies in the provinces. If anything should have hap-
pened to Caesar, Lepidus would have been in sole charge of the Republic.
As Master of Horse as well as consul in 46 BCE, he was openly contrib-
uting, together with Caesar, to the further breakdown of the Republic’s
customs, since it was against “the rules” to hold both offices at the same
time. Caesar paid for breaking tradition with his life two years later, but
the self-styled Liberators who assassinated him chose not to harm Lepidus,
despite contemplating the latter’s elimination along with Antony’s. News
of the murder must have been especially disturbing to Lepidus, since, just
the evening before, when he had hosted Caesar to dinner at his home, the
dictator had remarked in conversation that quick and unexpected would be
the best of all the ways of dying.
On the Ides of March, Lepidus was safely outside the city limits in charge
of several legions Caesar had gathered to begin his war against the Par-
thian Empire. Lepidus favored attacking the Liberators with those troops,
even after the leading assassins, Brutus and Cassius (both of them his own
brothers-in-law), proposed peaceful negotiation. He occupied the Roman
Forum with his men and publicly denounced the Liberators. Several of
Caesar’s former officers, including Lepidus, gathered to discuss what to
do next, and Antony, together with A. Hirtius, argued that further conflict
and vengeance were not the answer. When Antony gathered the Senate
together, it concurred, and the Liberators sent word of their cooperation
down from the Capitoline Hill, where they had taken refuge. Lepidus could
do nothing unless he wanted to face strong opposition on all sides. To
prove that he had only sought justice for Caesar’s memory and not power
for himself (which some, including Antony, suspected as the true motive),
he acquiesced to the truce and amnesty arranged by the Senate. Indeed, he
commemorated the end of hostilities by supervising the completion of a
temple to Felicitas, the spirit of good fortune and happiness.
468
The arrival on the scene of Caesar’s great-nephew and adopted son, Oc-
tavian, and the latter’s competition with Antony over leadership of Caesar’s
supporters, provided Lepidus with an opportunity to gain certain rewards
from Antony for his continued cooperativeness. The latter betrothed his
eldest daughter, Antonia, to Lepidus’s son and arranged for Lepidus to re-
ceive Caesar’s former position as Pontifex Maximus, chairman of the most
important priestly association in Rome. Lepidus agreed to leave Antony
alone to deal with Octavian.
Lepidus departed Italy to again govern Nearer Spain, together with
Transalpine Gaul, territories which Caesar had designated for him before
the assassination. While there, he was faced with the problem of Sextus
Pompey; this last son of Pompey the Great had managed not only to sur-
vive the Civil War but also to gain control of most of southern Spain. Lepi-
dus decided to work with Sextus instead of against him; he even persuaded
Antony to arrange for the restoration of Pompey’s property in Italy to Sex-
tus and for Sextus to benefit from an amnesty as well, so as to be allowed to
return home. In this way, Lepidus had pressured Antony again to do things
his way and had added another contender for power to the mix, placing
Antony and especially Octavian off balance.
Fresh Civil War broke out when members of the Senate challenged the
growing authority of Antony in early 43 BCE, eventually forcing the lat-
ter to flee Italy. The Senate ordered Lepidus, as a provincial governor, to
move against his old comrade. He seemed, at first, to be siding with the
interests of his brothers-in-law, Brutus and Cassius, and his friend, Cicero,
the famous orator, but he was really wavering, hedging his bets. By the late
spring of the year, however, Antony had won him (and, more importantly,
his army) over to his own cause, as he did other governors of the western
provinces. This stunned and disappointed many of Lepidus’s friends back in
Rome, as Cicero makes clear in no uncertain terms in his surviving letters
from that time; they regarded Lepidus as reviving a war they had consid-
ered finally finished. The Senate responded at the end of June 43 by declar-
ing Lepidus a public enemy (hostis), just as they had done Antony months
before; the others who had taken up his side fell under similar condemna-
tion, but with the provision that they had two months to “come back to the
Republic.” Lepidus himself did not receive such a way out.
Antony and Lepidus pooled their armed forces and marched into Italy,
expecting a confrontation with the armies of the Senate, commanded by Oc-
tavian (in the absence of the real heroes of the Senate, Brutus and Cassius,
who were still in the eastern provinces). The senatorial enemies of Antony,
like Cicero, for instance, counted heavily on Caesar’s adopted son to do the
right thing, even though many of them, including Cicero, had treated the
young man with less respect than he deserved or expected and had already
felt his wrath when he marched on Rome demanding unprecedented rewards
469
for helping to drive Antony out of Italy. When it came down to it, Octavian
did the right thing, for himself, not necessarily the Republic. Instead of en-
gaging Antony and Lepidus in battle (among other things, they did have a
two-to-one advantage over his army in terms of manpower), he negotiated
with them; in the northern Italian city of Bononia (modern Bologna), they
arranged a pact whereby the three of them would avenge the murder of Cae-
sar, which pleased especially Octavian and Lepidus, and assume control of the
Roman Empire, which pleased them all. Lepidus certainly must have felt that
he finally had a chance to satisfy his ambitions.
On their return to Rome, the defenseless Senate and People of Rome
gave in to this coalition of generals. One of the plebeian tribunes proposed
to the voters the lex Titia; its passage on November 27, 43 BCE legally au-
thorized Lepidus, Antony, and Octavian as tresviri rei publicae constituen-
dae, that is, a special executive board of three to “restore the Republic”
over the next five years. Another word for tresvir was triumvir, hence the
term triumviratus in Latin or triumvirate in English to describe their po-
sition. Scholars and students of Roman history also use this same term to
describe an earlier coalition, that of Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus, but their
arrangement had no legal standing, no basis in the political institutions of
the Republic. In contrast, the so-called Second Triumvirate did.
The Triumvirs proposed to seal their pact in blood, the blood of friends,
relatives, and other senators. Octavian, for instance, offered up his men-
tor, Cicero, whom Antony hated and Lepidus, his old friend, did nothing
to protect; Antony and Lepidus each offered relatives, the latter willing to
sacrifice his own brother, L. Aemilius Paullus (though he escaped and later
received pardon). This began their culling of the Senate and the equestrian
order through proscriptions, lists of men wanted for execution; over 100
senators and 2,000 equestrians suffered, some for political or personal dif-
ferences with the Triumvirs, others simply for their wealth and property,
which the three generals hoped would pay off and buy off their consider-
able armies. Lepidus justified their deeds in an address to the Senate at the
conclusion of the proscriptions, promising greater leniency in the future. In
the end, they still needed to impose new taxes to raise sufficient war funds.
The Triumvirs had agreed at Bononia to administer the empire in three
parts, one for each of them. They now confirmed and legitimized that divi-
sion, Antony governing Gallia Comata (central and northern France) and
Gallia Cisalpina (northern Italy), Lepidus governing Gallia Transalpina
(southern France) and Spain, and Octavian governing North Africa and the
western Mediterranean islands. They also set in motion the campaign to de-
stroy the Liberators, who had control of the entire eastern Mediterranean
region. Lepidus, probably because he had so much experience of adminis-
tration and “holding down the fort” from the days of Caesar’s dictatorship,
stayed home instead of accompanying his colleagues to Greece, where the
470
battles of Philippi ended the lives of Cassius and Brutus in the fall of 42 BCE
This was a mistake on his part, for when Antony and Octavian returned vic-
torious, they reduced Lepidus to the lowest position in their arrangement.
Antony, who assumed governorship of the entire East, now took from him
Gallia Transalpina, while Octavian took Spain. The Triumvirate remained
intact legally, but, in reality, had become a fiction. Lepidus had become the
forgotten Triumvir.
He, of course, did not forget his own honor and his own ambitions. His
loyalty toward Octavian when the latter was at war with Antony’s wife,
Fulvia, and brother, Lucius Antonius, gained him the province of Africa
(modern Tunisia) as a reward (of course, Octavian gained more, acquiring
the Gallic provinces). The ensuing Pact of Brundisium in that year (40 BCE)
renewed the Triumvirate, so that Lepidus received Antony’s recognition
as well.
Lepidus remained, however, under suspicion from Octavian, because of
rumors of his contact with Sextus Pompey, whose “pirate” fleet posed a
threat to “young Caesar’s” control of the Mediterranean. Sextus had al-
ready been working with Antony to keep Octavian off balance; if he joined
up also with Lepidus, Octavian might have been forced out of the picture
altogether. Unfortunately, Lepidus hedged his bets, as he had done in the
past, and did not support Sextus when he could have, even though he was
in communication with him at the time when Octavian got it into his head
to eliminate Sextus once and for all. Instead, Lepidus tried to salvage his
own position by bringing military aid to Octavian in his invasion of Sicily,
Sextus’s base of operations.
In the aftermath of their joint victory, Lepidus seized the strategic city
of Messana (modern Messina) and demanded from Octavian that he be
treated with greater respect and that he receive the island of Sicily as part of
his provincial command. Octavian at first protested against this in a public
speech, but, finding himself assaulted by Lepidus’s soldiers for doing so,
then proceeded to surround their camp with his own men as if laying siege.
This terrified Lepidus’s army into surrendering; their commander could do
nothing but present himself to Octavian in the garb of mourning. The lat-
ter spared Lepidus’s life, but otherwise stripped him of all powers and of-
fices, except that of Pontifex Maximus. Octavian then ordered his former
colleague to return to Italy, where Lepidus remained under a type of house
arrest (despite the efforts of some senators, like the jurisconsult Antistius
Labeo, to get him reinstated to the Senate) until his death twenty-four
years later in 12 BCE.
Lepidus the Triumvir, like his father before him, developed tremendous
ambitions for power and glory. They had both tried to play the Roman
system against itself and to maneuver colleagues as well as adversaries
just where they wanted them. Failure followed upon the heels of success,
471
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however, the result mainly of bad timing and over-cautiousness. Lepidus

the Triumvir, in a sense, undid himself.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Dictator; Equites;
Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina; Gaul Transal-
pine/Gallia Transalpina; Ides of March; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum;
Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pontifex Maximus; Provinces; Senate;
Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE); Spain; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Ltd.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
Weigel, R. D. 1992. Lepidus, the Tarnished Triumvir. London and New York:
Routledge.
Letters
People in the Roman Empire, especially the Roman citizens themselves,
loved to stay connected and informed on the latest happenings. In a world
long before modern technologies of communication, a world without
newspapers even, Julius Caesar and others like him took on the challenges
of transportation and travel and made themselves present, where they could
not be in person, through written correspondence. Julius Caesar, for exam-
ple, seemed always to be writing to someone or other.
Few ancient letters (epistulae in Latin) survive intact because of the per-
ishable nature of the materials on which they were written, that is, primar-
ily papyrus and thin sheets of wood; only in the most specific conditions
have such items survived in the archaeological record and, therefore, only
in the most particular locations, such as the dry sands of Egypt or the bogs
of northern Britain. Fortunately for us, the peoples of Medieval Europe,
472
Letters
especially Christian monks and nuns, decided to continue the ancient tradi-
tion of copying, by hand, letters that had originally been composed by an-
cient statesmen, philosophers, and other eminent individuals; they did this
partly to preserve information and insights that continued to resonate with
their own times, but mainly to keep record of the Greek and Latin of the
past for the purpose of studying its composition and style as a model for
their own writings. Ancient letters were, in a sense, mini-textbooks of lan-
guage and culture. So, medieval copyists preserved, and transmitted to us,
a sizable body of correspondence from the classical world.
The vast majority of letters from Roman times thus remembered came
primarily from men, and primarily men of the upper class. They dominated
a vast empire and could not do so without maintaining some sort of regu-
lar contact, in writing, among themselves, no matter where they might be.
Almost 2,000 years before the first newspapers appeared in Europe, letters
among eminent (and even humble) Romans kept them informed on the lat-
est developments of interest; this was regarded as a social obligation. In ad-
dition, through letters, members of the Roman elite engaged in diplomatic,
social, and cultural exchange with leading men from the populations Rome
had conquered, especially Greek aristocrats, intellectuals, professional ex-
perts, and so on, and conducted business ventures across the empire, which
necessitated routine consultations with agents and staff personnel far afield.
Finally, military personnel, especially officers, regularly exchanged letters
among themselves, with their commanders, and with members of the Sen-
ate to keep one another up-to-date on matters of strategic importance;
Caesar, thus, sent dispatches in letter form to the Senate as a whole from as
close as northern Italy and as far away as Britain.
Romans utilized thin, flat rectangles of wood covered in wax as the ma-
terial upon which they wrote quick notes or brief letters; the wax covered
most of the surface of each sheet or tablet of wood, leaving a rim of uncov-
ered wood on all four sides, thus resembling a picture frame in appearance.
The pointed end of a stylus (shaped something like modern chopsticks and
about the same size) was used to carve one’s letter into the soft wax, while
its other, flatter end was used to erase the letter by smoothing the wax
over; made of wood, reed, ivory, or metal, a stylus could be quite basic or,
if turned out by a skilled craftsman, a tiny work of art in itself. Such letters
on waxed tablets had usually only a temporary existence, then, befitting the
temporary need for their content. Still, they were certainly the most com-
mon form of letters.
On the other hand, letters written on papyrus (i.e., the sheets resembling
modern paper developed by the Egyptians from harvesting and processing
the native papyrus plant), were intended for long-term survival; they were
also more costly, since not only were the scrolls of papyrus themselves ex-
pensive (and they could not normally be used more than once), but one
473
Letters
also had to pay often for fresh supplies of ink to write upon them (a pen,
again called a stylus, made of hollowed reed was most commonly used for
this purpose, dipped in ink like the famous quill pens of the eighteenth cen-
tury). Most papyrus letters had no margins; the writer would simply fill up
the entire scroll, from top left to top right and then down line by line to the
bottom right. Caesar was remembered as deviating from this custom, since
he divided the scroll into several columns, as in a modern sheet of newspa-
per, each column of words forming a discreet section of his overall letter.
Leading citizens in politics and business usually delegated the actual writ-
ing of letters to their servants, specifically to highly educated slaves or freed-
men who had won the trust of their masters (or former masters, in the case
of freedmen); Caesar actually had to kill one of his confidential secretaries,
a Greek freedman by the name of Philemon, when he discovered the latter
involved in a plot to poison him. Secretaries (librarii or amanuenses) took
down the dictation of letters and reviewed it with the author himself or her-
self. According to the Imperial biographer Plutarch, Caesar even dictated
letters to his secretaries while traveling on horseback, to save valuable time.
The master or mistress supervised the sealing of the letter once done; in
the case of correspondence on papyrus, a strong thread was passed through
holes in the scroll, tied in a knot, and sealed with a wax impression from
the author’s seal-ring (engraved or shaped in such a distinctive fashion that
it identified the wearer and, therefore, confirmed the authenticity of his or
her letter); a similar procedure was followed for waxed tablets, except that
usually two or more were bound together, faces turned inward. Julius Cae-
sar famously took a pretty casual approach toward “signing off” on his let-
ters, trying to get his massive correspondence out even while eating meals,
and even as a guest at other people’s homes. Romans, then, did not put
their signature to letters; in fact, our word “sign” comes from the Latin
word signum, meaning “seal.” Romans opened a letter by cutting the cord
that bound it, not breaking the wax seal itself, since they regarded an intact
seal as so important a proof of authenticity.
A sealed letter made it to its destination not through the postal service,
since the Roman Republic had no such institution but rather by way of pri-
vate couriers (tabellarii), again usually slaves of the sender, or friends and
associates or their slaves, heading in the right direction on their own affairs.
Sometimes, one might even have to rely on strangers to deliver one’s letters
if there were no one else readily available. All of this could take anywhere
from two weeks, for correspondence traveling from one end of the Italian
Peninsula to the other, to two months, for correspondence traveling from
Egypt, for instance, to Rome. To guard against loss or theft of letters en
route, Romans sent multiple copies, if possible, by multiple means, and to
protect against prying eyes, some even turned to composing their letters in
code, as Caesar did, for example.
474
Letters
CODED LETTERS
Since there existed no official service for the delivery of correspon-
dence, whether private or governmental, during the Roman Republic,
individuals who sent letters had to take precautions so that content
of their messages did not fall into the wrong hands. Perhaps no one
was more aware of this danger than Julius Caesar, who employed a
method of alphabetic substitution in the confidential portions of his
correspondence to friends and political associates. Basically, the re-
cipient had to know that each letter Caesar put down in the Latin
alphabet actually stood for a different one, in the following fashion:
A = S, B = T, C = U/V, D = A, E = B, F = C, G = D, H = E, I = F,
K = G, L = H, M = I, N = K, O = L, P = M, Q = N, R = O, S = P,
T = Q, U/V = R. So, a word like “assassination,” parricidium in
Latin, would appear encoded in a message from Caesar as sduumgmcp,
totally incomprehensible gibberish. Actually, Caesar’s was one of the
simplest systems of code of those developed during the Republic by
clever letter writers.
From the period of the Roman Republic, the best-preserved and best-
known correspondence, with all of its complexities in content and audi-
ence, as well as its wide variations in style, comes from M. Tullius Cicero,
the well-known statesman and contemporary of Caesar. Of Cicero’s letters,
we have close to 1,000, thanks primarily to the efforts of his freedman,
Tiro, who served in the capacity of confidential secretary; Tiro kept copies
of his boss’s correspondence, especially the letters that Cicero considered
most valuable, as a regular procedure; he also safely stored many of the
replies that came in to those letters, as well as letters between others who
had wanted to keep Cicero in the loop as to what information had been
exchanged.
Some time after Cicero’s death in 43 BCE, Tiro decided to publish a large
selection of these letters (which we know as the Epistulae ad familiares or
“Letters to friends”), virtually unedited, including both those sent by and
those received by Cicero in the last twenty years or so of his life; perhaps
he was following up on the wishes of his employer, who had toyed with the
idea of such publication. In the Roman world, publishing meant commis-
sioning hand-copied editions to be given to family, friends, and associates,
who would then have copyists of their own make more editions for anyone
else they knew who might be interested; in this way, Cicero’s letters spread
among the Roman elite, eventually becoming even a standard element in
the curriculum for students of Latin in the schools of the empire, as did
475
Letters
others of his more formal works of writing. Within a century of his passing,
even the more candid and personal letters written to his friends Atticus and
Brutus, as well as those to his brother Quintus, had made their way into
circulation among the educated public.
Amid the particular correspondents of Cicero’s, and one of the hottest
topics among his other “pen pals,” was Julius Caesar; thanks to Cicero and
his circle, evidence survives from about thirty or forty letters exchanged be-
tween them. Of those, we possess only three complete letters from Cicero
to Caesar and only three complete letters from Caesar to Cicero, the latter
fortuitously preserved as copies by Atticus. The totality of these writings
indicate the friendly relations between Caesar and Cicero, as well as the lat-
ter’s brother, Quintus (who served as an officer under Caesar’s command),
the long-standing generosity and kindness of Caesar (for which the Ciceros
were grateful), the passion of Cicero for recommending people for service
on Caesar’s staff, and the latter’s desire to keep Cicero on his side, or at
least neutral, once the Civil War erupted in 49 BCE.
Unlike his contemporaries, Caesar developed the unusual habit of writ-
ing letters in between face-to-face encounters; since he did not have suffi-
cient time to meet personally with every friend or associate who needed or
wanted to do so; this habit allowed him to maintain a regular flow of infor-
mation and keep in contact with all matters requiring his attention.
The Senate, provincial governors, and military commanders, exchanged
official letters over great distances, as did business partners scattered across
the empire, and private individuals corresponded with their family and
friends wherever they were. Even to connect with someone just across
town, a Roman would send off a letter. In the Roman Empire, then, letters
served the same purposes as telephone, e-mail, and video conferencing do
in ours.
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cicero,
Quintus (102–43 BCE); Education; Slavery/Slaves
Further Reading
Howatson, M. C. 1989. The Oxford Companion to Classical Literature. 2nd ed.
Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
476
Libertas/Dominatio
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
Libertas/Dominatio
The sloganism of the Late Republic unleashed the foundation stones of the
Roman sociopolitical system as weapons against political opponents. The
most important of those foundation stones was the political concept of lib-
ertas; one promoted oneself always as a defender of libertas and condemned
one’s opponents as seeking to undermine libertas with the aim of replacing
it with dominatio.
We might translate libertas into English as “freedom” in the sense of the
opposite of enslavement; a free person in Roman society was neither owned
nor controlled by any other person. Yet, Romans were raised not to exercise
libertas in a selfish manner; this sort of individual freedom, the kind that
many people expect or seek today when they live alone, or drop out of so-
ciety, or “do whatever they want,” or try to get the government and other
large entities off their backs, would have been regarded as reckless, antiso-
cial behavior by the Romans, who would have called it not libertas but li-
centia (lawlessness, license) and would have severely criticized anyone for
attempting to live that way. Instead, true libertas did not consist in the in-
dividual’s freedom to maintain personal values but rather to maintain soci-
etal values, in other words, the freedom to live according to the customs of
the ancestors (mos maiorum), the teachings of Roman religion (disciplina
Romana), and the principles of their forbears (instituta patrum), or, more
succinctly, the freedom to fulfill one’s duties in life (officia).
Romans, thus, closely connected libertas with the concept of member-
ship in the community, that is, citizenship (civitas); in fact, their word for
free person was the same as that for citizen (civis). In other words, they did
not regard libertas, as many modern people would do, as a natural, inalien-
able human right, but rather, as an acquired, civic right, defined as free-
dom before the law. There was no such thing as freedom outside of society.
One’s libertas was founded on laws, bound firmly by laws, and could not
exist without the proper functioning of laws.
From the Roman perspective, an essential element in such a free society
grounded in law was the acceptance of equity (aequitas or aequum ius), that
is, taking only one’s appropriate share in the functioning of the commu-
nity. Ideally, every free person, whether commoner or aristocrat, possessed
477
Libertas/Dominatio
a share of rights and powers within the Roman community commensu-

rate with his or her contribution to and standing within that community.
The Romans did not believe that every citizen was equal (aequalitas, abso-
lute equality, and aequabilitas, uniformity, were usually pejorative terms in
Latin), that every free person had the right to run for office or lead armies,
for instance; they always believed that only a few men possessed the moral
integrity that would ensure stability and order, whereas whole groups of
citizens were judged unfit to make good decisions. Thus, they did accept
a gradation of freedoms within their own community; some citizens were
“more free” than others, and privileges or honors marked them off from
the rest. Yet, such privileged citizens (especially the Roman aristocracy)
were regarded as morally superior to their fellow citizens, and thus deserv-
ing of greater freedom, only so long as they strived for a consensus of rights
and powers in which they all shared and accepted the boundaries of the
same laws as the rest of the citizenry. As the famous statesman and orator
M. Tullius Cicero would have expressed it, libertas did not consist of per-
sonal rights or privileges alone but entailed a balance of these with societal
duties and expectations.
By the Late Republic, however, more and more unscrupulous aristocrats
struggled with one another over potestas (power) without regard to aequi-
tas; they were no longer satisfied with their “fair share” or insisted that they
deserved a greater “fair share” and sought to eliminate the “fair share” of
their rivals. They came to value their own personal and familial dignitas
(sense of worthiness and respect from others) as more important than eq-
uity. They would not stand for any diminishment of their own preeminence
or that of their faction within the elite. They no longer strived truly to do
great things with faithfulness, courage, and seriousness of purpose for the
sake of ancestors, family, and country (what Romans summed up in the
one word, virtus), but rather sought overwhelming, self-centered benefits.
Libertas, as the Romans had understood it, could not survive in such a
political climate; without it, the Republic as a whole could not survive ei-
ther. The two seemed inextricably linked. In his account of the Civil War
between himself and Pompey, Caesar recorded his own words to an emis-
sary of Domitius Ahenobarbus outside Corfinium to the effect that he him-
self was defending not only his own libertas but that of the Roman People,
who had, he asserted, been oppressed by a senatorial faction comprising
only a few men (ut se et populum Romanum factione paucorum oppressum in
libertatem vindicaret). Later in the narrative, one of his centurions, Crasti-
nus, calls upon his comrades to fight in the Battle of Pharsalus to regain
their libertas (nostram libertatem recuperabimus), again an allusion to the
suppression of the common citizen by the “bad guys” on Pompey’ side.
From the opposite perspective, the famous orator and statesman, Cicero, in
several letters to his friend Atticus, asserted that the assassination of Caesar,
478
Libertas/Dominatio
CAESAR AND THE FOUNDERS OF THE

UNITED STATES
The Founders of the United States, all of whom were very thoroughly
versed in Greek and Roman literature and history, and tended to see
things, past and present, in quite moralistic, judgmental, black-and-
white terms, revered the opponents of Julius Caesar rather than Ju-
lius Caesar himself. Hence, George Washington, in the winter of
1777–1778, staged Joseph Addison’s well-known play, Cato, hop-
ing to inspire his men at Valley Forge to take the title hero, Caesar’s
nemesis, as their inspiration in the desperate war against the British.
Revolutionary Americans compared King George III of Great Britain
to Caesar; they saw themselves as Brutus, ready to take him down.
Furthermore, the Founders and their supporters equated Julius
Caesar and his character (overly ambitious, selfish rather than self-
sacrificing, a seeker after fame and glory, a demagogue among the
People of Rome, respectful of no laws or societal restraints) with
the moral decline of the Roman Republic, something they were ob-
sessed with averting in their new American Republic. Early Americans
also believed that Caesar’s actions had opened the way for the rise of
evil tyrants, the emperors of Rome in the first century CE (as vilified
by the Roman authors Tacitus and Suetonius). So, not surprisingly,
even within the new American government, political adversaries, like
Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson, accused one another in
vicious terms of being like Caesar whenever they seemed bent on any
scheme that would give one individual or one institution more power
over the others in their careful system of checks and balances. Hamil-
ton, indeed, knew how sensitive Jefferson was about this, pushing his
buttons by asserting that the greatest man who ever lived was Julius
Caesar.
which had taken place a month before his writing, had restored libertas,
but not the Republic; this was an incongruous situation, as Cicero clearly
recognized. A year later, he received a letter from his friend C. Cassius
Longinus, one of the famous assassins of Caesar, who characterized those
responsible for preventing the Republic’s restoration, his adversaries Do-
labella and Antony, as bloodthirsty tyrants, insisting that he himself, with
Cicero’s encouragement, had seized control of the Roman armies in the
East to defend the Republic and its libertas. Cicero wrote back to Cassius
that summer urging him, together with M. Junius Brutus and the other
479
Libertas/Dominatio
self-styled Liberators, to establish libertas so firmly that it would last for-

ever. In the Roman mind, the absence of libertas meant the absence of
peace, order, and true security; it meant either the presence of anarchy, leges
nullae, or of tyranny, dominatio.
Dominatio (from the Latin word dominari meaning to rule or hold mas-
tery) denoted the opposite of free politics, the control of society by a par-
ticular group or individual. Interestingly, the term was used primarily by
authors writing in the first century BCE and the first century CE; even when
they employed it to characterize political conditions in Rome’s past, the
term reflected definitions and connotations of their own time. Cicero’s es-
says, letters, and political speeches contain the most references to domina-
tio, some targeting Julius Caesar directly or his association with Pompey
and Crassus, the so-called First Triumvirate. Indeed, in the second month
of the Civil War, Cicero wrote a private letter to Atticus in which he boldly
stated that both Pompey and Caesar aimed at dominatio, rather than beata
et honesta civitas (a happy and honored state). Even one of Caesar’s own of-
ficers, his slightly younger contemporary, the historian Asinius Pollio, later
described Caesar’s dictatorship as dominatio. Octavian-Augustus, Caesar’s
adopted son, perhaps in the most famous use of the term, in his Res Gestae
(Record of Achievements), spoke of saving the libertatem rei publicam (the
Free Republic) from the dominatione factionis (tyranny of a faction), not
specifying whether the faction was that of Brutus and Cassius or that of
Marc Antony. Yet, Augustus’s own position was itself dominatio, as charac-
terized by the Imperial historian Tacitus.
The end of the Republic and rise of one-man rule in the form of the
Roman Emperors entailed, again as Tacitus would have described it, the
victory of dominatio paucorum, the tyranny of the few, over the populi im-
perium et libertas, the power and freedom of the entire populace. Taking
into consideration the vitriolic political rhetoric of the Late Republic, this
was not an exaggeration. More and more Roman senators, whether alone
or in coalition with one another, exerted stronger and stronger influence
within the political and military systems of the Republic in defense of vari-
ous personal goals; they may not have controlled every official, election, or
province, but they strove to, with increasing disregard of libertas or aequi-
tas, paying these only lip-service to score points against their adversaries.
When these adversaries were finished off, the victors had no need of true
freedom or equity and replaced these with what we might call benevolent
dominatio.
BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Centurions; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Citizenship; Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Dignitas; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Propaganda
480
Further Reading
Press.
University Press.
Keyes, C. 1928. Cicero: On the Republic. On the Laws. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
Rudd, N. 1998. Cicero: The Republic and the Laws. Oxford, UK: Oxford Univer-
sity Press.
lishing.
Publishing.
Wirszubski, C. 1968. Libertas as a Political Idea at Rome during the Late Republic
and Early Principate. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Hudson.
The largest and most comprehensive collection of written material in the
whole of antiquity, the Library of Alexandria served as a major point of
pride for the Ptolemies, the Greek rulers of Egypt. The Romans, under
their commander, Julius Caesar, inflicted upon the Library its first major
calamity.
The founder of the Ptolemies, Ptolemy I (r. 323–282 BCE), boyhood
friend of Alexander the Great, general, scholar, and author, conceived of
the notion of establishing a magnificent library within the new (at that
time) city of Alexandria. Of course, royal libraries dated back as far as the
third millennium BCE in the ancient Near East, but the basic model for
Ptolemy’s idea came from Alexander’s famous tutor, the philosopher Aris-
totle, who had himself amassed a sizeable collection of books (i.e., scrolls)
over the years, a personal library passed down for generations by his fol-
lowers.
In tandem with the Library, Ptolemy also worked to establish a cen-
ter for learning, a place where experts in all fields might come to live,
481
The reading room of the modern Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Alexandria, Egypt. This
new Library of Alexandria, opened in 2002, stands in commemoration of its famous
ancient predecessor. (Cristian Tzecu/Dreamstime.com)
conduct research, and write. Considering this center something sacred

to the Nine Muses, the goddesses who inspired humankind to create
art, literature, music, dance, science, and so on, Ptolemy called it the
Museion (Museum in Latin, from which derives our English word for a
much different sort of institution). Again, this idea was not novel, since
many schools, such as those well known of Aristotle and his teacher,
Plato, contained shrines to the Muses. Ptolemy hoped that the Museum
and the Library would make Alexandria the cultural capital of the Medi-
terranean world.
The project for the Museum and Library, though begun by Ptolemy I,
came to fruition during the reign of his son, Ptolemy II (r. 282–246 BCE).
Together they and their successors attracted the greatest minds in liter-
ature, philosophy, mathematics, geometry, geography, medicine, astron-
omy, and many other fields to take up lodging in that part of the royal
palace where the Museum was constructed. The royal family provided
comfortable spaces for these thinkers to live, to study, and to discuss and
share their ideas and discoveries with one another; they provided the very
best meals, funding (tax-free), supplies (e.g., the writing material, papy-
rus), and, of course, the resources of the Library itself. Apparently, it, like
the Museum, took up a large section of the increasingly massive palace
482
complex, a wing not far from the Great Harbor of Alexandria. We have
little idea of its exact layout, though; judging from smaller examples of li-
braries in that era, it likely consisted of an open courtyard surrounded by
columns and walkways, these surrounded by rooms containing the actual
volumes.
By the end of the third century BCE, the Ptolemies had established a sec-
ond library in Alexandria within the sacred precinct of the god Serapis, not
too far from the palace. Again, we see this important connection between
the divine space and the practice of learning. This alternative library appears
to have been open to a wider readership than the Great Library, the latter
reserved for the scholars and special guests.
The royal family of Egypt sought to acquire a copy of every Greek
work known, on every subject from the most sublime science to the most
mundane cookery; they were especially fond of antique copies, since they
regarded these as closer in time to the original and hopefully very ac-
curate texts. They also ordered Greek translations of works from other
cultures, like Babylonian astronomical archives or the Hebrew Scriptures
(called the Septuagint in its Greek form). Agents scoured the eastern
Mediterranean world for these scrolls (the common form of “books” in
those days), acquiring them by whatever means necessary, from fair and
open purchase to hijacking or theft. Harbor officials even had standing
orders to confiscate books onboard any ship that docked in Alexandria;
the books went to the Library and royal copyists made duplicates to re-
place those confiscated.
In this way, by the time of Julius Caesar, the two royal libraries together
contained over 500,000 scrolls, which might translate into at least some
100,000 separate texts, taking into account the many duplicates and mul-
tiple versions, as well as scrolls containing more than one “book” on them.
The several Directors of the Libraries over time (especially Callimachus of
Cyrene) had organized the massive collections according to subject and au-
thor, alphabetized and catalogued for easier location and consultation. The
Libraries functioned smoothly and efficiently for generations as the ancient
equivalents of today’s research libraries.
Near disaster for the Great Library arrived with the Romans. In late
48 BCE, Julius Caesar landed at Alexandria, having pursued his chief rival,
Pompey, to Egypt across the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Finding him mur-
dered by consent of King Ptolemy XIII, Caesar soon sided with the latter’s
sister, Cleopatra VII, in their dynastic struggle for power. This made Caesar
the target of both an opposing local army and the citizens of Alexandria,
who, at that time, intensely distrusted and disliked Cleopatra. As part of
their maneuvers against him, enemy forces attempted to gain control of the
ships in the Great Harbor, and Caesar prevented them from doing so by
arranging to have the ships burned. The fire got out of control, however,
483
and spread to shore, where it engulfed and destroyed several buildings.

One ancient source claimed that the Library was among those buildings
burned down, since it extended close to the Harbor; another asserted that
only some annexes of the Library were gutted, in which, nonetheless, were
many precious volumes of books in storage.
The story that the entire Library ceased to exist, thanks to Caesar’s reck-
lessness, appears a gross exaggeration, a tall tale. Still, considerable dam-
age likely took place. Not many years later, Marc Antony arranged for the
entire library (some 200,000 scrolls) of the city of Pergamum, another of
the famed centers for learning in the Greek world, to be handed over to
Cleopatra; this was probably part of an effort to replenish what had been
lost in the fire. Copies of works from other collections in the region were
also likely commissioned for the Great Library.
The Library certainly continued to operate well after Caesar’s time, en-
dowed and otherwise supported by Rome’s Emperors for generations.
Indeed, despite some controversial testimony, there is little doubt that it
functioned through the early Byzantine period right up to the era of the
Muslim conquest of Egypt in the seventh century CE, after which Islamic
scholars likely absorbed its many volumes, as they did the Greek libraries of
Syria, for the very foundation of their own system of learning.
tra (d. 30 BCE); Education; Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE); Ptolemy XIII
(d. 47 BCE)
Further Reading
Casson, L. 2001. Libraries in the Ancient World. New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press.
Press.
Ltd.
Gutas, D. 1998. Greek Thought, Arabic Culture. London and New York: Routledge.
nesota Press.
484
Libya/Numidia
Libya/Numidia
Of all the regions in the western half of the Roman Empire, Julius Caesar
had never had occasion to visit North Africa until the Civil War between
himself and Pompey. In his pursuit of Pompey, after the latter’s defeat at
Pharsalus in Greece, Caesar came for the first time to Egypt; over a year
later, he returned to North Africa, this time to that part called Libya or
Numidia in pursuit of Pompey’s still-resistant comrades. Some of the most
terrible fighting and memorable episodes of the Civil War took place there.
At least from the time of the Greek poet Homer in the eighth century
BCE, Libya was the term used by Greeks to describe the coastal regions of
North Africa to the west of Egypt; at least from the time of the Greek his-
torian Herodotus in the fifth century BCE, some Greeks went further and
used the name to designate the entire African continent. This would have
been contemporary style in Caesar’s lifetime, though he also would have
known the coast and the continent as Africa, named for the Roman prov-
ince in what is today Tunisia. What we call Libya today was mainly known
as Numidia to the Romans, after the seminomadic Berber population that
inhabited the region. In fact, their settlements stretched far westward into
what we call Algeria and Morocco today.
Famed as warrior horsemen, the Numidians served as key allies of Rome
during its war with Hannibal’s Carthage in the late third century BCE and
Main square of ancient Leptis Magna (near Tripoli, Libya). This town, relatively small
in Caesar’s time, gained much greater importance under the Roman emperors.
(Izzzy30/Dreamstime.com)
485
Lictors/Fasces
one of their leaders, Massinissa, received territory from Carthage with

Rome’s blessing; in fact, over the next half century, the Numidians would
chip away at the remainder of Carthage’s land, provoking the Third Punic
War, which saw the destruction of Carthage by the Romans. Nevertheless,
the Numidians adopted and preserved many Carthaginian ways, especially
in terms of language, urban life, and agriculture.
Massinissa’s heirs remained strong allies of Rome, except for his grand-
son, Jugurtha, who sought to rule his expansionist kingdom with greater
independence from Roman control; he provoked a series of military inter-
ventions on the part of Rome, ending with his capture in 105 BCE and sub-
sequent execution. Though the Roman Senate confiscated some Numidian
territory at the time, it left most of the defeated kingdom under Jugurtha’s
relatives, once again loyal friends of Rome.
One of these relatives, Juba I, joined Pompey’s cause against Caesar in
the Civil War. In 49 BCE formidable Numidian forces defeated Caesar’s leg-
ate, Curio; fighting alongside Pompey’s father-in-law, Metellus Scipio, in
the Battle of Thapsus (spring 46 BCE), they tasted defeat, only after having
caused Caesar’s forces much damage.
Caesar annexed the eastern half of Juba’s kingdom (roughly the coastal
regions of modern Libya) as the Roman province of Africa Nova (New Af-
rica). Caesar handed over the western half to Bocchus II and his brother
Bogud, joint kings of Mauretania (roughly modern Morocco), both of
whom had participated loyally on Caesar’s side of the conflict. In fact,
Bogud would continue to prove his mettle as a leader of auxiliaries in Cae-
sar’s cause, both in North Africa and in Spain.
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE); Juba (d. 46 BCE); Marius
(ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces; Thapsus,
Battle of (46 BCE); Utica
Further Reading
Brett, M., and E. Fentress. 1997. The Berbers: The Peoples of Africa. London:
Wiley-Blackwell.
Fentress, E.W.B. 1979. Numidia and the Roman Army. Oxford, UK: British Ar-
chaeological Reports.
Lictors/Fasces
The Etruscans, the mysterious population who in ancient times inhabited
what is today the region of Tuscany north of Rome, imparted to the Roman
culture many customs and institutions. Among these was the tradition of
designating leaders by the attendance of bodyguards carrying symbols of
486
Lictors/Fasces
An actor dressed as a Roman

lictor carries the fasces, symbol
of power in ancient times, in
front of the Colosseum. Part of
the parade and re-enactment in
celebration of the foundation of
Rome (Natale di Roma).
(doveloupo/Dreamstime.com)
the leaders’ authority. The Romans called these attendants “lictors” and the
symbols fasces. Lictors and fasces provided the imagery of power for Roman
officials who held imperium (the right to command and be obeyed), such
as consuls, praetors, and provincial governors.
Julius Caesar spent much of his career around lictors and fasces. When
he served as praetor in 62 BCE, six lictors, drawn from the common citi-
zens and dressed in togas, attended him, as was standard practice. He
dismissed them, however, when he got himself into trouble with the
Senate at the start of his term and resigned his office. Many regarded
this as a sign of restraint and good judgment on his part. When the Sen-
ate soon reinstated him, naturally, he regained the service of his lictors.
They accompanied him, wearing their red war cloaks or saga, during
his governorship of Further Spain (roughly southern Spain today) from
62 to 60 BCE.
As a group, the lictors marched in front of the magistrate or promagis-
trate to whom they were assigned, wherever he went on official business,
clearing a path for his approach through crowds of onlookers; as individu-
als, they regularly announced the official’s arrival in public venues and sum-
moned persons to his presence. Lictors also carried out the official’s orders
to arrest particular people and even to execute them. That was why they
carried the fasces, a bundle of wooden rods about five feet long tied by
leather straps around an axe; the lictors might remove a rod to inflict pun-
ishment or to coerce compliance, or remove the axe to cut off a body part
or even a prisoner’s head.
487
Lictors/Fasces
On his return to Rome, Caesar managed to get elected to one of the

consulships in 59 BCE. In this way, he continued to be accompanied and
protected by lictors, now numbering twelve, as again was standard practice;
within the confines of the city of Rome, however, they were not permitted
to carry an axe within the fasces, since they were not permitted to inflict any
drastic corporal or capital punishments within the city limits.
In accordance with ancient custom, which Caesar deliberately revived
in an effort to make himself appear collegial, he split the year with his col-
league, Bibulus, so that they would exchange the fasces with one another
month by month, giving one of them the greater executive, and especially
immediate coercive, power for a period of time. Bibulus’s lictors walked in
front of him, while Caesar was followed by his lictors during the months in
which the latter did not have the fasces, so that Caesar was preceded in pro-
cession by only one assistant. Recognized as a method of power sharing, of
checks and balances as we might say today, this was truly an empty gesture,
since Caesar soon drove Bibulus into hiding by the use of intimidation and
force; Bibulus could not make much use of his lictors or the fasces when he
spent most of his term inside his own mansion. And Caesar put his own lic-
tors to good use, as when he ordered one of them to forcibly remove his
famous adversary Cato from the Senate House and escort the latter to the
detention cell at the edge of the Roman Forum.
The actions of Caesar and his political rivals eventually precipitated a
Civil War among the Romans. In the midst of the confusion that ensued,
Caesar even witnessed private citizens escorted by lictors inside the city, and
even upon the sacred Capitoline Hill, all in contradiction to ancient exem-
plars. He put a stop to this, especially on becoming dictator for the first
time in late 49 BCE. This extraordinary office, approved by the Senate, pro-
vided Caesar with twenty-four lictors and fasces fully armed with axes, even
within the city of Rome. These were carried before Caesar on his arrival in
Alexandria about a year later and drew a huge crowd of spectators, espe-
cially the Roman troops garrisoned there. Caesar also made good use of his
lictors in the aftermath of the Civil War, when, as dictator for the fourth
time, he ordered them to enforce the provisions of some of his new laws,
such as confiscating illegal luxury items from people’s homes.
The lictors and the fasces themselves heralded the authority and power
of Roman officials. In addition, they sported decorations of honor, such as
laurel wreaths commemorating military victories, thus even further display-
ing the renown of their boss. When Pompey refused to place laurels upon
his fasces, despite his victory over Caesar in western Greece, he demon-
strated not only restraint but also respect for the “Romanness” of the lic-
tors and fasces; they should never be employed to denigrate fellow Romans,
even Roman adversaries, he thought. On the other hand, when Caesar’s
lieutenant, Curio, criticized Pompey’s lieutenant, Domitius Ahenobarbus,
488
Luca
for having thrown away his fasces in the aftermath of his defeat at Corfin-
ium, he illustrated the Roman belief that the symbols of office should never
be desecrated or abandoned; to do so was, again, not Roman. Thus, the
image of the lictor and fasces generated great respect in Roman culture.
See also: Alexandria; Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Capitoline Hill; Curio (d. 49 BCE);
Dictator; Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Hono-
rum; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces; Senate; Spain
Further Reading
Luca
The town of Luca (modern Lucca in northern Italy) dates to at least as far
back as the Etruscans of the sixth century BCE; it may not have been one of
the most significant towns in the region originally, but it certainly grew to
Panoramic view of modern Lucca, in Tuscany, Italy. The town preserves much of its
ancient and medieval heritage. Caesar met here with his closest associates, Pompey
and Crassus, in 56 BCE. (Jitka Urbanova/Dreamstime.com)
489
Luca
be quite prosperous under Roman influence. A number of major Roman

highways passed through or close to Luca, bringing opportunities for rich
trade in the region’s agricultural products; the town proved its loyalty to
Rome over the centuries, especially during and after the Second Punic War.
In Caesar’s day, there were many Roman citizens living there. He chose
this bustling town, then part of his extensive provincial command, as the
place to hold a very critical conference with his key associates, Pompey and
Crassus, in 56 BCE.
In the early months of that year, Caesar left most of his army north of the
Alps in Gallia Comata (roughly central and northern France today), giving
them a break from military operations, and made his normal visit to col-
lect taxes and administer justice in the province of Cisalpine Gaul (north-
ern Italy), which also fell within the scope of his command. This visit was
special, though. He had come with lots of money and with the intention of
distributing that money among his political supporters in Italy.
Caesar sent such “gifts” to various people in Rome, and many of them
traveled to the city of Luca, where he was based, to thank him; many oth-
ers, citizens of all kinds, including magistrates, governors (like Metellus
Nepos, on his way to Nearer Spain), and generals, went to Luca at this
time to ask Caesar for financial and other forms of support. The ancient
sources record that over 200 senators thus paid their respects to Caesar
at Luca.
Most prominent among these were Pompey and Crassus. Caesar sum-
moned them himself to try to heal the breach that had developed between
his two associates. They had never gotten along all that well with each
other, and any cooperation the two men had managed in recent years had
been due to Caesar’s efforts. Since his own departure for Gaul about two
years earlier, Pompey had risen to a position of greater prominence in com-
parison to Crassus. Most conspicuously, in 57 BCE, the Senate had chosen
Pompey (after a severe famine had hit the city) to take charge of the entire
grain supply of Rome for five years with proconsular imperium (i.e., gov-
ernorship) over markets, ships, and ports throughout the Mediterranean
region; even some prominent Optimates, the political enemies of Caesar,
had supported this extraordinary post. Crassus, perturbed by this and other
developments, came to find Caesar in Ravenna, another important city of
Cisalpine Gaul, to discuss his concerns.
Caesar realized that he himself needed the continued political assistance
of Pompey and Crassus to maintain a guard against political adversaries
who were quite eager to take him down at the earliest opportunity; he
was apprehensive, for instance, that the laws of his consulship might be re-
pealed and that his personal enemy, L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, would win
one of the consulships of 55 and assume command of Gaul, which the lat-
ter, in fact, declared he would do. Caesar also recognized, even if his two
490
Luca
comrades did not, that they stood against common opponents in the Sen-
ate stronger together than divided.
So, in April 56 BCE, having already met with Crassus, Caesar asked Pom-
pey to join both of them at Luca. Each had his own agenda; each wanted
something to make their continued partnership personally worthwhile.
Caesar sought to remain in his provincial command for another five years;
in that way, he would be safe from his political adversaries (they could not
prosecute him for former “misdemeanors” nor harm him amid his loyal
soldiers) and continue to rack up wealth and glory through warfare among
the Gauls. Crassus desired an opportunity to elevate his own military repu-
tation to the same level as his two comrades by waging a war against the
Parthians (who then controlled most of the Middle East); to accomplish
this, he needed the governorship of the province of Syria, also for five years.
Pompey, of course, could not allow himself to be totally eclipsed by the
other two; they agreed he should have the governorship of the Spanish
provinces for the same period of time.
Having established their terms and strategies at Luca, Caesar remained
there (as he could not legally leave his province), while Pompey and Crassus
returned to Rome to stand for the consulships of 55 BCE; Caesar provided
lavish campaign financing (read: bribes) and his own furloughed soldiers (as
well as other clients of his) to serve both as voters and as pressure on others
to assure the victory of his partners. At first, the three men arranged for the
preventing of elections from being held on time; then, they delayed them
over and over again until the first of January 55 came along. With no con-
suls to assume office at that point, the government reverted to the custom
of interregnum, by which the Senate appointed its prominent members to
serve as temporary consuls, one at a time for no more than five days each.
In this instance, the interrex was M. Valerius Messala Niger.
Finally, the renewed Triumvirate “permitted” elections, literally shov-
ing out of the way the only other viable contender for the consular of-
fice, Domitius Ahenobarbus, who lost in his challenge to Pompey. They
similarly worked to prevent M. Porcius Cato, leader of the Optimates,
from winning a praetorship and secured the election of friendly magis-
trates in other posts. One of these, the plebeian tribune C. Trebonius, put
through the actual law that parceled out provincial commands to Caesar
and friends.
In all this, the ex-consul and famous orator, M. Tullius Cicero (who had
not come to Luca and whom Pompey, his supposed friend, had not in-
formed about his own visit there), played his part as spokesman for the Tri-
umvirs, pushed by Pompey, forced to defend himself to many critics. The
truth was that many other senators chose this same course, the path of ex-
pediency and “political wisdom,” as Cicero characterized it, while a relative
few, like Cato and Domitius, boldly adhered to an ideology of resistance
491
Lucan’s Pharsalia
and obstructionism. Crassus, Pompey, and especially Caesar rewarded their

supporters with political and military advancement, as well as opportunities
for gaining wealth. The various meetings at Luca came to symbolize the
decadence of the Late Republic.
See also: Ambitus/Bribery; Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43
BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Elec-
tions; Extraordinary Commands; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/
Gallia Cisalpina; Gloria/Glory; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Optimates;
Parthia; Patrons and Clients; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies;
Spain; Triumvirate
Further Reading
lishing.
Publishing.
University Press.
University Press.
Lucan’s Pharsalia
Known to English speakers as Lucan, the Latin poet M. Annaeus Lucanus
(39–65 CE) evidently came to detest the cruel and arbitrary power exercised
by the Roman emperor Nero. When he traced that power back to its his-
torical source, he concluded that the ultimate blame lay with none other
than Julius Caesar, whose efforts at domination had led directly to the es-
tablishment of the Julio-Claudian dynasty of emperors, of whom Nero was
the last. Lucan conveyed this message through an enormous poem that
railed against Caesar’s pivotal Civil War with Pompey and his other rivals in
Rome, a work perhaps titled De Bello Civile, “On the Civil War,” but today
called Pharsalia.
Lucan had grown up with Nero as a childhood friend; they both ben-
efited from the tutelage of Lucan’s famous uncle, the philosopher Seneca,
492
Lucan’s Pharsalia
who also became a key advisor of the emperor. Lucan himself became a
very productive author, operating in a variety of genres from epic poetry to
tragic drama; he evidently also possessed a forensic bent, a strong tendency
toward intense, indeed furious, rhetoric, the sort of thing one would have
heard in the law courts of Caesar’s own time.
In the early 60s CE, Nero rewarded Lucan with titles and official posi-
tions within his administration, but they had a falling-out, perhaps over
literary as well as political differences, not long afterward, indeed, around
the very time that Lucan began to publicize Pharsalia, his most recent
work. The temporal connection here cannot be accidental. Pharsalia dis-
plays remarkable anger against Julius Caesar not just as an individual but
rather more as the exemplar of what scholars have called “Caesarism,”
that is, tyrannical, autocratic government, into which Nero was more
and more slipping. The poet did rely a great deal on the writings of
Caesar himself for the raw material of his work, but he recognized that
written history is an argument, that the same facts may be rearranged
and reinterpreted to present an entirely different conclusion than oth-
ers might have been willing to discuss. In his case, Lucan reinterpreted
the entire scene of the Civil War through the lens of someone who knew
where it would all lead, to a future without honor, without freedom of
speech, without much political initiative, where the successors of Caesar,
like Nero, could use their unlimited power in the most selfish and abu-
sive fashion.
Lucan held no illusions about the Late Republic; it had become a rotten
shell of its former greatness. Even when the character of Caesar encounters
the Spirit of his Country before his invasion of Italy, he finds her old, dis-
tressed, and sorrowful. Prosperity had bred greed and greed had bred the
mentality that force determines legality (mensuraque iuris/vis erat). Roman
Senators, epitomized by the character of C. Scribonius Curio, treat the
Republic as a form of merchandise, to be bought and sold to the highest
bidders, and show no qualms in accepting the use of power, force, or intim-
idation as legitimate means for getting things done among fellow citizens.
There were still heroic figures, like Domitius Ahenobarbus, who stood up
against Julius Caesar over and over again, the only one of Pompey’s gener-
als in Italy not to flee from Caesar; he sought to escape Caesar’s so-called
mercy and die a patriot, but most other so-called Republicans were haunted
by fears and permeated by selfishness. Clearly madness must have taken
over to lead the Romans into this slaughter of kindred, utterly pointless,
with so much of the world still left to be conquered by Roman arms. Yet,
it seemed to Lucan that, if the gods sought to punish Rome (for its moral
failings perhaps), it could not be vanquished but by Romans themselves,
and perhaps the rise of the emperors, like Nero, could not have taken place
without such civil strife.
493
Lucan’s Pharsalia
The ultimate symbol of the Republic’s struggles is the character of Pom-

pey, whose “greatness” is a hollow sham, the residue of his former life, as
seen in his speech reminiscing about past glories, an address that receives
no applause from his troops. By the time of the Civil War, he has become al-
most totally dependent on others, unable to stand on his own against foes,
as the Republic also used to do; he resembles the barren trunk of an oak
tree, like those used in trophies, laden with decorations of wars long past.
Pompey may lead the Senate and a lawful army, but he needs assistance,
popularity, applause, praise, affection, or he is nothing; like the Republic,
he has become an empty name.
As for Pompey’s rival, Julius Caesar, Lucan had many reasons for detest-
ing him. Even his place of birth gave him one: Caesar had sacked Lucan’s
native city of Corduba (modern Córdoba), located in the Roman province
of Further Spain (southern Spain today), as punishment for siding with
Pompey’s sons in his war against them in 45 BCE. People of the ancient
world did not easily forget such insults, no matter how far back in time they
might have been, and Lucan was likely no exception to this.
The poet acknowledged Caesar’s almost superhuman achievements in
the military sphere, as well as his overweening self-confidence and irrepress-
ible will, but these did not negate the general’s own corruptness, shared
with most other leaders of his generation; indeed, Caesar’s energy and abili-
ties, coupled with that inner decadence, made him even more dangerous
and destructive than they. Lucan thus dismantles Caesar’s claim, repeatedly
found in his letters and his memoir about the Civil War, of moral justifica-
tion for waging war against the rivals who “dominated” his country. Even
in the poem, the character of Caesar makes the hollow claim of being just
a “soldier of the Republic” and labels Pompey as the unlawful, glutton for
Civil War, a lean and hungry tiger.
Yet, Caesar’s relationship to the Republic is no better than that of his
rivals; in fact, it is much worse and his interest is in total victory for per-
sonal gain. The poet characterizes him as a thunderbolt, dazzling, terrify-
ing, fast, obviously unstoppable but also unconcerned about what it strikes;
he draws a parallel between Caesar and the mythical figure of Medea, the
mad woman who killed her own children in a fit of wild rage simply to spite
her husband. Rabid Caesar, sinister Caesar, the “savage lion,” a second
Hannibal, invades Italy to destroy his homeland, not to save it; he flagrantly
challenges the will of the gods again and again in favor of his own will; he
shows mercy only as a ruse to gain the confidence of fools, and, even then,
it is never enough to offset the damage he does, the carnage he leaves in
his wake. Lucan describes Caesar as acer (shrewd and keen) and indomitus
(untamed), moved by hope and anger, always his hand on his sword, seek-
ing the supreme position, dissatisfied with all conquests, pressed forward by
every success, following Fortune wherever it leads, joyful to make his way
494
Lucan’s Pharsalia
by ruination, happy at shedding blood, believing nothing finished as long

as something remained to be accomplished (nil actum credens, cum quid
superesset agendum).
Thus, the victory of Caesar over Pompey in the Battle of Pharsalus be-
comes for Lucan the catastrophe of the Republic, when the criminal had
the freedom to establish himself as the lawgiver. Omnia Caesar erat, as
Lucan says, “Caesar was everything.”
If any figure comes off as a hero for Lucan, that must be Cato the
Younger. From the very first book of the Pharsalia, the poet makes this
clear in the now-famous phrase, “The gods favored the victorious cause,
while Cato favored the defeated one” (victrix causa deis placuit sed victa
Catoni). In other words, Cato understood better than the gods, who seem
to have abandoned Rome to its fate, that the cause of Caesar, though suc-
cessful, was the worse one. An embodiment of Stoic philosophy (in which
Lucan himself was evidently well trained) as well as the ideals of the Re-
public, especially libertas, Cato is the counterpoint to Caesar on the scale
of political morality.
Encouraged by his son-in-law, Brutus (the future assassin) to take ac-
tion with Pompey against Caesar, Lucan’s Cato agrees but also realizes
that there is little to be said for Pompey’s side. Cato will fight in defense of
the laws and freedom, not in defense of either general; indeed, Cato sees
that he must join Pompey’s side to prevent the latter, if victorious, from
becoming master of Rome. Both Pompey and Caesar, and especially the
latter, have pursued virtus (“manly achievements”) without much concern
for pietas (duty to country and ancestors); the heroes of the Old Republic
dedicated themselves always to both of these values, and Cato hopes to do
the same. Since the Republic is hopelessly dying, however, decadent and
caught between the two combatants, the best that Cato can hope for is to
emulate the self-sacrificing heroes of Rome’s past; he wishes that he could
be scapegoat for all the Republic’s ills, instead, and rescue it from doom.
Despite being heralded by Brutus as a sort of divinity, humbling himself by
coming down to earth from Mount Olympus, Cato simply sees no other
choice, since even he cannot stay out when the entire universe is crashing
down around them.
Whether Lucan intended to extend his yet-unfinished Pharsalia be-
yond the ten books extant today remains a mystery, as does the projected
end point of the poem should he have done so. What we possess only
covers the Civil War period through to the middle of the Alexandrian
War in 48–47 BCE, with references to later events. Lucan would not have
had much chance to edit or continue his work once Emperor Nero de-
cided, perhaps in the summer of 64 CE, perhaps later that year, to ban
Lucan from any further reading of this or other writings of his and to cut
him out of all affairs of state. Indeed, within less than a year, Lucan was
495
ordered to end his own life, having been charged with conspiring against
Nero.
See also: Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Bellum Civile (Cae-
sar); Cato (95–46 BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE); Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48
BCE); Letters; Libertas/Dominatio; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Propaganda; Spain
Further Reading
Ahl, F. 1976. Lucan: An Introduction. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Joyce, J. W. 1993. Lucan: Pharsalia. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Masters, J. M. 1992. Poetry and Civil War in Lucan’s Bellum Civile. Cambridge:

Most of what we know about the life of L. Licinius Lucullus involves his
military career; that military career was intimately tied up with those of
Sulla and Pompey. Lucullus served Sulla as a staunch friend, military aide,
and ideological ally; he provided Pompey with a rival for military glory and
struggled, unsuccessfully, to stifle the latter’s rise to political prominence.
Lucullus was firmly devoted to L. Cornelius Sulla, who recognized
this later by dedicating his memoirs to Lucullus and even more so, on
his death in 78 BCE, by placing his son, Faustus Sulla, under Lucullus’s
guardianship. One of the most telling demonstrations of Lucullus’s de-
votion to Sulla occurred a decade earlier, in 88 BCE, during the civil strife
between Sulla and his one-time commander, C. Marius. The latter and
his political associates had seized control in the city of Rome by violence,
forcing Sulla to flee for his life. When he reached the Campanian town
of Nola, where several legions of the Roman army were stationed in de-
fense of that region against Samnite and other rebels (at the time, the
Social War was still raging between Rome and several of its former allies
in Italy), Sulla persuaded almost all the troops to march with him against
Rome instead. The officers of those legions refused to follow him in such
an action, however, with the key exception of Lucullus. From that time
on, until Sulla’s death about a decade later, Lucullus was always on Sul-
la’s side.
Though the historical record notes that he served with distinction in
the Social War, not much is known about what the young officer Lucul-
lus actually did then, or during the civil strife of 88. In the latter event, he
must have served quite effectively and loyally because Sulla next took him
along as his second-in-command (proquaestor) in the much-expected
496
campaign against the rebellious King Mithradates of Pontus (modern

northeastern Turkey). This is where we can first see in detail Lucullus
prove his military skill.
While Sulla led the Roman ground forces against Mithradates’s generals
in Greece, he entrusted to Lucullus the significant responsibility of ridding
the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean seas of Mithradates’s fleet; with-
out that fleet, not only would Mithradates have been unable to keep Sulla
bottled up on the Greek mainland, but he also would have been unable to
maintain his own military presence there, and could not possibly have pre-
vented an invasion by Sulla of his own kingdom of Pontus whether over-
land through Asia Minor or by way of the Black Sea coast.
In fulfilling his primary duty to Sulla, Lucullus had to contend not only
with Mithradates’s regular warships but also with the Cilician and Cretan
pirate vessels that the king had hired as mercenary allies. This made travel
by sea in search of naval allies for Rome even more treacherous. Making
his way quickly from Greece to the island of Rhodes, where he gained
naval support, he proceeded to seize the island of Crete with a very few
ships; then, he ventured out across the open sea, quite a dangerous thing
to do in the winter months, but necessary to avoid the many piratical hide-
aways along the shoreline from Turkey to Egypt. Finding allies in Cyrene
(modern Libya), Lucullus attempted to sail thence to the Ptolemaic King-
dom of Egypt, but the pirates got him anyway, destroying or capturing
most of his ships. The Egyptians escorted him northward to the island of
Cyprus; along the way, Lucullus did manage to collect a substantial fleet
of warships from supportive maritime towns. Bypassing the pirate coves
of Cyprus, he led his ships rapidly back into the Aegean, where they de-
stroyed Mithradates’s naval capability in a number of key engagements,
and indeed arrived just in time to ferry Sulla’s troops across into Asia
Minor. Characterized by undaunted determination, cunning deceptive-
ness, and aggressive vigor, Lucullus’s efforts proved essential to Rome’s
success in this First Mithradatic War; in its immediate aftermath, Lucul-
lus continued to use his victorious fleet, at Sulla’s orders, to press towns
along the western and southern coasts of Asia Minor into submitting once
again to Rome, destroying some of them in retaliation for their coopera-
tion with the Pontic king.
Lucullus undoubtedly learned very much about the problems of the
East; such knowledge came to be quite useful when he returned there,
not even a decade later, to conduct yet another war, the third one, in fact,
against the ever-intractable Pontic king. By that time, Rome had three pro-
vincial footholds in Asia Minor (Asia in the west, Cilicia along the southern
coast, and Bithynia along the northwestern coast); Mithradates, mean-
while, had gained some military assistance from the neighboring kingdom
to the East, Armenia, and its ruler, Tigranes II. The Pontic king realized
497
that the Romans, who had never ratified Sulla’s peace terms with him, were
working to gradually encircle his kingdom and remove him from power. In
74 BCE, when Mithradates invaded the neighboring kingdom of Bithynia,
in an attempt to prevent the Romans from absorbing that country as a
province, the Senate declared war.
At the time, Lucullus was serving as consul back in Rome, along with M.
Aurelius Cotta, who hoped to be assigned the command against Mithra-
dates. Political forces were at work, however, to give the command to a
much more famous general, Pompey the Great, who was then engaged in
a war against rebel forces in Spain. Lucullus pulled out all the stops to sup-
port Pompey’s mission there and to delay his return to Italy; he did the
same to gain appointment as both governor of Asia and Cilicia with com-
mand of the war against Mithradates. His consular colleague, Cotta, was
granted only the governorship of Bithynia; his associate, the praetor M. An-
tonius, became naval commander against Mithradates’s pirate allies (based
mainly on the island of Crete). Lucullus received overarching authority
over both of them.
Mithradates’s invasion of Bithynia had gone badly for him at first, but
he had learned to streamline his forces and conduct more efficient warfare
with the Roman garrisons there. Besides, the population of the kingdom,
and the people of the neighboring Roman province of Asia, quickly wel-
comed Mithradates as a liberator from Roman oppression, especially the
extortionate methods of Roman moneylenders and tax collectors.
Lucullus’s colleague, Cotta, meanwhile, jumped too soon at the chance
to defeat the Pontic army and navy, to grab all the glory before Lucul-
lus had his shot, and instead suffered defeat at the hands of Mithradates’s
forces both on land and at sea. In fact, Cotta found himself blockaded and
shut up inside the city of Chalcedon.
So, at the start of his campaign, Lucullus had to play two roles: he had
to play savior to rescue the Roman troops under Cotta and play goodwill
ambassador to persuade the local populations to accept Roman rule. In
the latter capacity, Lucullus won much local support in the province of
Asia by employing his police powers against the hated moneylenders and
tax farmers, apparently forcing a number of them to leave the territory.
On the former score, he determined to turn the military situation around
by bringing his troops bearing down on Mithradates’s in Bithynia. Tak-
ing note of the fact that the Pontic forces overwhelmingly outnumbered
the Romans, however, while their supplies did not in any way suffice for
such numbers, Lucullus turned to his characteristic determined patience,
delaying the attack and focusing his efforts on denying the Pontic troops
access to any resupply. Eventually, Mithradates attempted to evacuate his
troops from Bithynia in several stages; Lucullus took advantage of this
dividing up of the enemy force to attack and defeat it piecemeal in four
498
major engagements by land and sea, Lucullus even reprising his role as
commander of a fleet of allied ships, as in the previous war with Mithra-
dates.
Though Mithradates made it back to his own kingdom, few of his troops
escaped from Bithynia. Lucullus understood rightly that the king’s next
move would not only be to raise fresh forces from the homeland but also,
and especially, to bring his son-in-law, Tigranes of Armenia, fully into the
conflict with Rome. Until then, he had only supplied some men to Mithra-
dates; he could send many tens of thousands more, if he chose to declare
himself an enemy of Rome. Lucullus hoped to prevent this full alliance of
Rome’s adversaries.
When Lucullus invaded Pontus in 72 BCE, he carried out operations
very slowly, to give plenty of time for Mithradates to regroup and attack.
The latter at first favored only small skirmishes with the Romans, but even-
tually became too confident, taking the bait to launch a full-scale attack
with his fresh troops. The Romans slaughtered them, and would have cap-
tured Mithradates, had they not distracted themselves with looting the
king’s treasures. Lucullus’s own conduct of the war exacerbated this; he
had been (and continued to be afterwards) very strict with his men in the
handling of captured towns, resisting their now too-common passion for
extreme plundering. Sometimes, like this time, he simply could not re-
strain them.
So, Mithradates found safety with Tigranes, who refused to surrender
him to the Roman envoys; not long after, intelligence reports indicated
the imminent invasion of the Roman province of Cilicia by Tigranes’s
army. Lucullus now played the part of aggressive defender, taking the
fight into Armenia in 70 BCE, without direct mandate from Rome. Hav-
ing defeated one of the Armenian’s best generals, Lucullus drew Tigranes
to the field by laying siege to his capital, Tigranocerta. The Roman com-
mander’s remarkably bold maneuvering gained both the city and a battle-
field victory.
Then came the fall of Lucullus. His own actions and personality played
their part in this. He had alienated prominent equites, especially the publi-
cani, the collectors of taxes in the province of Asia, by curtailing their ex-
tortionate practices in the region and bringing tax relief to the towns there
in the form of reduced interest and reorganized installment plans. He had
also angered his own soldiers by pushing them hard in long, seemingly
never-ending campaigns, by maintaining strict discipline among them, and
by forbidding them to plunder many captured places. No wonder it was so
easy, in 68 BCE, for one of Lucullus’s junior officers, his own brother-in-law,
P. Clodius, to foment a mutiny (the third mutiny of the war, in fact), thus
immobilizing the Roman army and giving the chance for Mithradates and
Tigranes to regroup and fight back. All of this fed into the public opinion
499
back in Rome, stirred up by Lucullus’s rivals, that he was a hard, unso-

ciable man who would not end the war because of his arrogant desire for
glory and could not win the war because of the uncooperativeness of his
troops.
Such opponents also criticized his associates, bringing charges against
Cotta that destroyed the latter’s career and condemning Antonius “Cre-
ticus” (who was already dead at the time) for making a treaty with pirates
instead of eliminating them. Then, in 67 BCE, the plebeian tribune, A.
Gabinius, put through one law, transferring governorship of Bithynia, as
well as a portion of Pontus, to a new commander, and another creating a
special three-year command against the pirates for Pompey, thus stripping
away two pieces of Lucullus’s extraordinary command. It only remained for
someone to propose removing Lucullus from what was left. Early the fol-
lowing year, the plebeian tribune, C. Manilius, did just that; command of
the war against Tigranes and Mithradates and authority in the provinces of
Asia Minor passed to Pompey. Lucullus returned to Rome, barely permitted
to celebrate a triumph for his achievements; his military career had ended.
Lucullus had successfully prosecuted a difficult war and surely would
have left behind one of the greatest military reputations in Roman history,
had it not been for the machinations of his political enemies back home.
Still, it must not be forgotten that Lucullus’s was the extraordinary com-
mand of all extraordinary commands up to that time; even though many
of his Optimate associates might not have criticized it as they did extraor-
dinary commands granted to others, his did establish a dangerous prece-
dent, born of personal ambition, that was duplicated by Pompey not long
after, and eventually, most fatefully, by Julius Caesar. In addition, although
retired (into a life of remarkable luxury and leisure) from 63 BCE until his
death, Lucullus was active politically on Pompey’s return, when he worked
with other Optimates to prevent ratification of Pompey’s arrangements
in the East and rewards for those mutinous Roman troops. In this way,
Lucullus played no small part in driving Pompey into the arms of Caesar
(who had himself prominently supported those measures that had removed
Lucullus from his command), thus helping to precipitate further political
crisis for the beleaguered Republic.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Equites; Extraordi-
nary Commands; Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE); Optimates; Piracy; Pom-
pey (106–48 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Taxation/Tax Farming
Further Reading
Keaveney, A. 1992. Lucullus: A Life. London and New York: Routledge.
500
Lupercalia
Lupercalia
Of the many festivals celebrated by the ancient Romans, no other is better
remembered from Julius Caesar’s lifetime than the Lupercalia. A very an-
cient religious holiday, the Lupercalia came to be associated with Caesar’s
supposed secret desire to be made king of Rome.
Each year on the fifteenth of February, the Romans engaged in a very ar-
chaic and somewhat bizarre set of rituals. First, the priestly brotherhood of
the Luperci, two groups of young noblemen, including magistrates, gath-
ered on the southwestern slope of the Palatine Hill near a cave called the
Lupercal; Caesar added a third group in his own honor. The Romans be-
lieved that Lupercal was the place where, according to their oral traditions,
a she-wolf or lupa rescued and suckled the two abandoned babies, Romulus
and Remus, the former of whom would go on to found the city of Rome.
Next, certain priests began the rituals of the day by sacrificing a dog and
several goats at the cave entrance, perhaps to placate the spirit of the lupa.
Caesar Refuses the Diadem, a

drawing in J. C. Ridpath’s
History of the World, 1894. Marc
Antony, depicted somewhat in
the fashion of the runners in the
Lupercalia festival, attempts to
crown Caesar with the
bejeweled silken ribbon worn
by royalty in the ancient
Mediterranean world. He has
dropped the goat-skin strap that
played such an important
function in the festival. (Archive
Photos/Getty Images)
501
Lupercalia
Two of the Luperci, young and from patrician families, were chosen as
symbolic leaders of the group; the priests selected them out from the rest,
smeared each of their foreheads with goat’s blood from the sacrificial knife,
and then wiped them clean with milk-soaked wool. The Luperci then en-
joyed a feast of roasted goat meat together. They flayed the goats’ hides and
fashioned this into loin clothes, which the Luperci put on, being otherwise
completely naked and rubbed down with oil, and into furry straps, which
the Luperci carried in their hands.
While all this was going on, Romans all across the city swept clean their
homes and then gathered in large crowds in the Forum Romanum to watch
the Luperci. They had by that time set off on a foot race around the entire
perimeter of the Palatine, and especially along that side facing the Forum
Romanum, striking at the earth, the buildings, objects, and the throngs of
spectators with their goat-skin straps. In this way, the Luperci ritually puri-
fied the city center in the same way as individual Romans had purified their
homes. Among the most prominent bystanders, however, were married
women of child-bearing age, who hoped to be strapped by the young men;
Romans believed this ritual action would enhance fertility, prevent sterility,
and aid in pregnancy and safe childbirth.
In 44 BCE, one of the Luperci was also a consul of Rome, the famous
associate of Julius Caesar, Marc Antony. As he was running through the
Forum, he veered off from the normal path of the race, the crowd of peo-
ple opened a way for him, and Antony dashed up to the main speaker’s
platform, the Rostra, upon which Caesar, having addressed the spectators
as Dictator for Life (an honor recently bestowed upon him by the Senate),
was sitting in a golden chair, dressed in his purple triumphal robes. Antony
had with him a laurel wreath, a symbol of victory from the Olympic Games
of Greece, wrapped with a diadem, a strip of fine cloth, sometimes silk,
worn by kings in the eastern Mediterranean as a symbol of their power;
after being hoisted up onto the Rostra by his comrades, he attempted sev-
eral times to place the wreath-and-diadem on Caesar’s head. The latter
repeatedly pulled away and rejected these gestures, apparently communi-
cating to the audience that he did not want to be crowned, in other words,
that he had no wish to be king. The people greeted Caesar’s rejection of
the crown with great applause, supporting his nod to the continuation of
the Republic; Caesar ordered the wreath-and-diadem to be placed in the
Temple of Capitoline Jupiter as an offering.
All of this may have been a piece of political theater, choreographed
by Caesar himself, to gauge popular support for openly recognizing in
name the kingship he already basically exercised in fact. Or perhaps Cae-
sar had set the whole thing up to produce a publicly witnessed refutation
of the rumors that he desired to be king; Antony did record in the daily
register of the Senate that Caesar had officially rejected kingship. Still, the
502
Lupercalia
second-century CE Greek biographer Plutarch, and probably the written

sources he consulted as well, believed firmly in Caesar’s desire for king-
ship. The Lupercalia was, after all, the second occasion on which such a
crown had been offered to Caesar around the time of a major religious
festival (previously, during or just before the Latin Festival on January 26,
44 BCE, an anonymous citizen or citizens had placed a wreath-and-diadem
on one or more statues of Caesar), and two such incidents in such a short
space of time suggested to Plutarch in his day, and to the suspicious Roman
populace and even more to the suspicious Roman Senate of Caesar’s day,
that indeed Caesar was “seeking a crown” despite his public protestations
to the contrary. Plutarch even records a violent outburst on Caesar’s part
against the crowd that so loudly applauded his rejection of the wreath-
and-diadem.
After the assassination of Caesar, which took place exactly one month
after the incident at the Lupercalia festival, his contemporary, the famous
orator Cicero, who had not at all favored Caesar’s growing autocratic be-
havior, thoroughly raked Marc Antony over the coals in the most thor-
ough character assassination ever seen in any Roman writing. Cicero was
appalled that Antony, a Roman consul, had participated half-naked in the
event and had addressed the crowds in the same state; clearly, he regarded
the propriety of Antony’s high office as trumping his duty as a Lupercus.
More importantly, he accused Antony of a fully premeditated attempt at
helping Caesar establish a monarchy, which, again, was so totally inappro-
priate for a consul. If that was not criticism enough, Cicero also blamed
Antony’s actions during the Lupercalia for the murder of Caesar. Other
ancient authors, like Plutarch, not surprisingly, agreed, regarding the inci-
dents of attempted “crowning” as contributing the final spark to the plot
against Caesar’s life.
Capitoline Hill; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Conspiracy of the Liberators; Festivals; Forum Romanum; Plutarch’s Lives;
Religion, Roman; Rex
Further Reading
Macmillan and Co.
lishing.
503
Lustrations
Lustrations
The Romans referred to rituals of purification as lustrations. These were in-
tended to do much more than clean an individual, a group of people, or a
place in a physical sense. In some instances, such ceremonies were designed
to release negative energies from an individual, group, or place, while in
others, the goal was to ward off evil energies from coming in.
A lustration typically consisted of a circular procession around the in-
dividual, group, or place to be cleansed (any of which had to be literally
cleaned before the procession could begin). Three times the priests or
other public officials in charge of the ceremony, along with their attendants
and others who wanted to participate, would parade around the desig-
nated perimeter, carrying lighted torches (to scare away dark supernatu-
ral powers) and leading animals to be sacrificed to the gods (to gain their
favor and support in the cleansing process); the members of the parade
also engaged in singing special chants to special music and dancing in ritual
fashion. In all these ways, the Romans believed they were sectioning off
the target of the purification from the rest of the world, excluding it from
the evils outside, creating a sacred space in which benevolent divine forces
could confer their blessings on that target without interference. Sacrifice
of the animals from the procession, and a banquet on their roasted flesh,
followed the parade.
Purification of the farm fields, both by individual families and by the
state, held high importance in the Roman calendar. For instance, every
May, the Arval brethren, twelve members of the Senate, performed the
Ambarvalia, a lustration probably connected to the celebration in honor
of Dea Dia, an animistic goddess of soil and sunshine. On the 29th of
May, the brethren conducted the ritual known as suovetaurilia, in which
a boar, ram, and bull, three precious, and strong, animals of the Roman
farmer, were sacrificed and examined by the haruspices, priests with exper-
tise in studying the internal organs of victims to identify signs from the
gods. Perhaps at around the same time of year, a similar festival of puri-
fication, the Amburbium, was held to cleanse the city of Rome and all of
its inhabitants.
Many lustration ceremonies focused on the Roman military; not surpris-
ingly, it depended upon the special favor and protection of many deities,
and it needed, more than any other Romans, cleansing in a spiritual or psy-
chological sense, just as much as in a physical sense, after its bloody battles.
In preparation for the campaign season, which Romans, like other ancient
peoples, usually opened in the spring, the army underwent lustration dur-
ing the Quinquatrus festival every March 19; the month itself was sacred to
Mars, the war god, and for the feast to Minerva, goddess of skill, including
warrior skill.
504
Lustrations
While on the march or before a battle, the commanding general had the
right to conduct a purification of his forces, though considerably less elabo-
rate than the ones performed at Rome. Julius Caesar, for instance, carried
out his own version of the Quinquatrus lustration when on military cam-
paign against rivals in North Africa in the year 46 BCE; during the Civil War,
which made a mess of the traditional calendar of campaigning seasons, such
rites had to be performed at Rome for the viewing of the citizen population
and also elsewhere for the benefit of the army itself. Caesar had performed
another noteworthy purification ceremony two years earlier before fighting
the Battle of Pharsalus in Greece against his chief rival, Pompey. On this occa-
sion, he had slaughtered the first animal in the sequence of the suovetaurilia
for his lustration when he was interrupted by the haruspex, who was reading
the omens from the animal’s entrails and predicted a decisive turn of events,
thanks to battle, within three days’ time. Caesar must have completed the
lustration after this declaration (the Imperial biographer Plutarch, our main
source for this event, gives no further details); the whole event bolstered the
spirits of his men, who up to then, had been bested by Pompey’s forces.
The traditional campaigning season of the Roman military closed with
the Armilustrium, the ceremony to purify the army of all the blood it had
shed, held on October 19 in honor of Mars; again, during periods of civil
strife, the timing of the ritual was adhered to, even if more fighting con-
tinued in the months to follow. The twenty-four Salian priests (by custom,
all patricians and each with both parents still living), conducted the Armi-
lustrium, and probably the Quinquatrus as well; dressed in archaic military
outfits, especially their sacred armbands, they beat their shields, sang an in-
comprehensible chant (carmen), and danced the procession in elaborately
choreographed fashion.
Despite his alleged doubts about the efficacy of such rituals (and the va-
lidity of religion in general), Julius Caesar presided over many lustrations
over his lifetime, especially in his capacities as military commander and
magistrate. He could not have done otherwise, since the Roman People,
including the Roman army, believed so strongly in the need for ceremonies
of cleansing to keep themselves, and their actions, in line with the natural
and divine worlds.
See also: Army; Haruspicy; Omens; Patricians; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE);
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion, Roman; Sacrifices
Further Reading
and Co.
505
Lustrations

Thames and Hudson.
506
All Things
Julius Caesar
All Things
Julius Caesar
An Encyclopedia of
Caesar’s World and Legacy
Volume 2
Michael Lovano
Copyright © 2015 by ABC-CLIO, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, except for the inclusion of brief quotations
in a review, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lovano, Michael.
All things Julius Caesar : an encyclopedia of Caesar’s world and
legacy / Michael Lovano.
pages cm
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-4408-0420-5 (hard copy : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-1-4408-0421-2 (ebook)
1. Caesar, Julius—Encyclopedias. 2. Rome—History—Republic, 265–30 B.C.—
Encyclopedias. I. Title.
DG261.L67 2015
937.05092—dc23 2014014519
ISBN: 978-1-4408-0420-5
EISBN: 978-1-4408-0421-2
19 18 17 16 15 1 2 3 4 5
This book is also available on the World Wide Web as an eBook.
Visit www.abc-clio.com for details.
Greenwood
An Imprint of ABC-CLIO, LLC
ABC-CLIO, LLC
130 Cremona Drive, P.O. Box 1911
Santa Barbara, California 93116-1911
This book is printed on acid-free paper
Manufactured in the United States of America
I wish to dedicate this book to two women
of great significance in the story of my life:
To my mom, Biagina Lovano, because I don’t know

what I would do without her. She is always there for me
with her love, encouragement, and support, no matter what.
And to our very dearest friend, Avis Rawlings,

who was like a second mother to me for nearly forty
years and whom we deeply miss. We remember her
tremendous faith, determination, and optimism in our
dark times and draw strength from her example.
Contents
Volume 1
Preface xix
Introduction xxi
Chronology xxix
Maps xxxviii
Genealogy of Julius Caesar xli
All Things Julius Caesar A–L 1–506

Volume 2

Contents
All Things Julius Caesar M–V 507–888

Primary Documents 889
Select Bibliography 903
Index 919
viii
VOLUME 1 Ariovistus
Adriatic Sea Arms and Armor
Aedui Army
Aeneas Artistic Depictions of Caesar
Aeneid (Virgil) Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE)
Agriculture
Alexander the Great
(356–323 BCE) Balbus
Alexandria Basilica Julia
Alexandrian War Belgae
(Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE) Bellum Civile (Caesar)
Ambiorix Bellum Gallicum (Caesar)
Ambitus/Bribery Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
American Caesar: Douglas Bona Dea
McArthur (Manchester) Britain
(Book 1978/Documentary Brundisium
1983) Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE)
(ca. 83–30 BCE) Caesar I–IV (Computer Games
Apollonius of Rhodes 1993–2006)
Caesarion (47–30 BCE) Curia

Calendar Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Calpurnia
Camps Dacians
Campus Martius Dante’s The Divine Comedy
Capitoline Hill Debt Laws/Loans
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE) Dictator
Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE) Dignitas
Cato (95–46 BCE) Divus Iulius
Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE) Domitius Ahenobarbus
Catulus the Younger (d. 48 BCE)
(d. ca. 61 BCE) Dreams/Dream Interpretation
Census Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE)
Centurions
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE) Education
Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE) Egypt
Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE) Egyptians
Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE) Elections
Citizenship Epilepsy
Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE) Equites
Cleopatra (Film 1963) Eulogies/Imagines
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE) Exile
Clothing Extraordinary Commands
Coinage/Money
Collegia Festivals
Colonies Food and Drink
Congiaria Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris
Conspiracy of 65 BCE Forum Romanum
Conspiracy of the Liberators
(44 BCE) Games
Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE) Gangs
Cornelia (d. 69 BCE) Gardens
Coronae Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina
Courts Gaul Transalpine/Gallia
Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE) Transalpina
Cremation Gaul/Gallia Comata
Crossing the Rubicon Germans
Crucifixion Gloria/Glory
x
Haruspicy Marius (ca.157–86 BCE)

HBO’s Rome (2005–2007) Marriage/Divorce
Helvetii Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE)
Homosexuality Masters of Rome (McCullough)
Honor (Books 1990–2007)
Hostis Mediterranean Sea
Memoirs
Ides of March Military Discipline
Illyricum Milo (d. 48 BCE)
Impeachment Mithradates VI (ca. 134–63 BCE)
Imperator Mourning/Funerals
Jews
Juba (d. 46 BCE) Names
Julia (d. 54 BCE) Navy/Ships
Land Reform Ocean
Legal Profession Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE)
Legions Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE)
Omens
Oppius and Hirtius
Letters
Optimates
Libertas/Dominatio
Oratory
Libya/Numidia
Parthia
Lictors/Fasces
Patricians
Luca
Patrons and Clients
Lucan’s Pharsalia
Pharsalus, Battle of
Lupercalia
(48 BCE)
Lustrations
Piracy
Plebs
VOLUME 2 Plutarch’s Lives
Machiavelli’s The Prince Pompeia/“Caesar’s Wife”
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Marcellus Cousins Pontifex Maximus
xi
Popular Assemblies Taxation/Tax Farming

Populares Temple of Castor and
Prison Pollux
Propaganda Tenth Legion
Proscriptions Thapsus, Battle of
Provinces (46 BCE)
Ptolemy XII Auletes Theater of Pompey
(d. 51 BCE) Thessaly
Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE) Trade
Public Works Transpadane Gauls
Treasury
Recreation Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)
Regia Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE)
Religion, Roman Triumphs/Trophies
Rex Triumvirate
Sacrifices Utica
Senate Vatinius
Senatus Consultum Ultimum Venus Genetrix
(SCU) Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE) Vestal Virgins
PRIMARY DOCUMENTS
(Original Play and Film
Versions 1953, 1970) Suetonius on Caesar’s Ancestry
Siegecraft and Aspirations
Slavery/Slaves Caesar’s Response to the
Spain Conspiracy of Catiline
(63 BCE)
Cassius Dio Describes Julius
Standards
Caesar’s First Invasion of
Subura Britain (55 BCE)
Suebi Cicero’s Affection for
Suetonius (ca.70–ca. Caesar (September 28, 54
130 CE) BCE)
Suicide Julius Caesar on the True
Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE) Causes of the Civil War
Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE) (49 BCE)
xii
Cassius Dio Describes Pompey’s The Reaction of Octavian

Behavior at the Start of the and His Family to Caesar’s
Civil War (49 BCE) Assassination (44 BCE) in
A Letter from Caesar Regarding Nicolaus of Damascus’s Life of
His Campaign of “Kindness Augustus
and Generosity” (ca. March 10, Cicero Comments to Atticus on
49 BCE) the Fallout from
Appian Describes the Key Battle Caesar’s Murder (April 7,
of Pharsalus (48 BCE) 44 BCE)
Julius Caesar before and after the Suetonius on the Vengeance of
Battle of Pharsalus (48 BCE) Octavian-Augustus
xiii
Documents/Media Events
Aeneid Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE)
American Caesar: Douglas Alexandrian War (Fall 48
McArthur (Book 1978/ BCE–Spring 47 BCE)
Documentary 1983) Conspiracy of 65 BCE
Bellum Civile (Caesar) Conspiracy of the Liberators
Bellum Gallicum (Caesar) (44 BCE)
Caesar I–IV (Computer Games Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE)
1993–2006) Crossing the Rubicon
Cleopatra (Film 1963) Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE)
Dante’s The Divine Comedy Ides of March
HBO’s Rome (2005–2007) Lupercalia
Lucan’s Pharsalia Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE)
Machiavelli’s The Prince Munda, Battle of (45 BCE)
Masters of Rome (Books Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE)
1990–2007) Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE)
Plutarch’s Lives Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE)
(Original Play and Film Groups/Peoples
Versions 1953, 1970) Aedui
Spartacus (Film 1960) Army
Belgae Dignitas
Centurions Divus Iulius
Collegia Dreams/Dream Interpretation
Dacians Education
Egyptians Elections
Equites Epilepsy
Gangs Eulogies/Imagines
Germans Exile
Helvetii Extraordinary Commands
Jews Festivals
Legions Games
Lictors/Fasces Gloria/Glory
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum Haruspicy
Optimates Homosexuality
Patricians Honor
Patrons and Clients Hostis
Plebs Impeachment
Populares Imperator
Senate Land Reform
Slavery/Slaves Legal Profession
Suebi Libertas/Dominatio
Tenth Legion Lustrations
Transpadane Gauls Marriage/Divorce
Triumvirate Military Discipline
Vestal Virgins Mourning/Funerals
Names
Ideas/Institutions/Customs Navy/Ships
Agriculture Omens
Ambitus/Bribery Oratory
Calendar Piracy
Census Pontifex Maximus
Citizenship Popular Assemblies
Congiaria Prison
Courts Propaganda
Cremation Proscriptions
Crucifixion Provinces
Debt Laws/Loans Public Works
Dictator Recreation
xvi
Religion, Roman Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE)

Rex Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43
Sacrifices BCE)
Senatus Consultum Ultimum Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE)

(SCU) Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE)
Siegecraft Cornelia (d. 69 BCE)
Suicide Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE)
Taxation/Tax Farming Curio (d. 49 BCE)
Trade Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48
Treasury BCE)
Triumphs/Trophies Juba (d. 46 BCE)

Julia (d. 54 BCE)
Individuals
Aeneas
Lepidus the Triumvir
Alexander the Great (d. 12 BCE)
(356–323 BCE)
Ambiorix
Marcellus Cousins
Marius (ca.157–86 BCE)
(ca. 83–30 BCE)
Milo (d. 48 BCE)
Ariovistus
Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE) Nicomedes (d. 75/74 BCE)
Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE) Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE)
Aurelia/Aurelian Family Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE)
Balbus
Oppius and Hirtius
Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)
Bona Dea
Calpurnia Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE)
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE) Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE)
Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE) Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE)
Cato (95–46 BCE) Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE)
Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE) Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE)
Catulus the Younger Suetonius (ca.70–130 CE)
(d. ca. 61 BCE) Sulla (c. 138–78 BCE)
Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE) Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE)
Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE) Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)
xvii
Vatinius Places
Venus Genetrix Countries
Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE) Britain
Egypt
Objects/Things Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina
Arms and Armor Gaul Transalpine/Gallia
Artistic Depictions of Caesar Transalpina
Clothing Gaul/Gallia Comata
Coinage/Money Illyricum
Coronae Libya/Numidia
Food and Drink Parthia
Letters Spain
Memoirs
Standards Geographic Features
Adriatic Sea
Structures Mediterranean Sea
Basilica Julia Ocean
Camps Thessaly
Colonies
Curia Locations
Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris Alexandria
Forum Romanum Brundisium
Gardens Campus Martius
Library of Alexandria Capitoline Hill
Regia Luca
Temple of Castor and Pollux Subura
Theater of Pompey Utica
xviii
M
Machiavelli’s The Prince

In 1513, the Florentine statesman and scholar, Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–
1527 CE), drafted his twelfth book, Il Principe or The Prince. Though not
officially in publication until 1531, four years after his death, it had already
come into some sort of circulation in and around the city of Florence itself.
In the work, Machiavelli attempted to encapsulate all the lessons of history,
distant and more recent, that he believed would guarantee success for the
ruler of almost any state. Among the historical figures he analyzed to ferret
out these lessons was Julius Caesar.
Machiavelli lived in a world still recovering from many calamities, such
as the Great Schism of the Catholic Church, the Black Death, and the
Hundred Years’ War, and suffering from new ones. Closer to home, the
French and Spanish crowns competed for control and influence in the Ital-
ian Peninsula, preferring to wage wars there rather than on their own soil.
The Italy Machiavelli knew was a patchwork of separate countries, with five
major powers (the Kingdom of Naples and Sicily, the Duchy of Milan, the
Republic of Venice, the Papal States, and the Republic of Florence) vying
with one another for supremacy or, at least, greater leverage over the oth-
ers. From a wider view, much of this, as Machiavelli and his contempo-
raries recognized, resembled the conflicts of the ancient Greek world, the
struggles between city-states and kingdoms. Hence, his frequent attention
in The Prince to ancient Greek history and its famous figures, such as Ag-
athocles, Epaminondas, Pyrrhus of Epirus, Nabis of Sparta, Antiochus III,
Xenophon, and, naturally, Philip of Macedon and his son Alexander the
Great. From a tighter perspective, the internal view of politics and popular
will within these Italian powers was often reminiscent of the history of an-
cient Rome. This was especially true in Machiavelli’s native Florence, where
feuding factions among the upper classes played such a significant role and
the people could make or break a leader with their favor or their hatred.
Machiavelli came from an old Florentine family of some status, politically
opposed to the most powerful family of his city, the Medici. Not surprisingly,
then, he supported the ouster of the Medici from Florence in 1494 and the res-
toration of a Republic freed of that family’s dominating influence. He served
as a bureaucrat in the administration, as a diplomat, and as an official, espe-
cially in several of the government’s war offices. In such capacity, he raised and
trained a new militia for the Republic and scored some military successes with
it until a coalition of powers defeated his army in 1512. Virtually defenseless,
Florence received assistance from the French crown in exchange for accepting
the return of the Medici as dukes of Florence and consenting to the end of the
Republic. Staunch opponents of this, like Machiavelli, were punished with ar-
rest and torture. He was fortunate in being released and, retiring into a life of
writing, dedicated The Prince to the new duke, Lorenzo de Medici.
509
Statue of Machiavelli outside

the Uffizi Gallery, Florence,
Italy, sculpted in plaster by
Lorenzo Bartolini
(1777–1850). (Raluca
Tudor/Dreamstime.com)
CESARE BORGIA (1476–1507 CE)

During the Renaissance period in Italy, the reputations as well as the
very names of ancient Romans regained tremendous popularity. Even
the Catholic popes showed favor toward this resuscitation of basi-
cally pagan renown. One of these popes, Alexander VI, himself from
the wealthy and well-connected Borgia family, not that different from
the old Roman aristocrats, indulged, as the generation of Caesar had
done, in ambitious and unscrupulous behavior, including the tak-
ing of many mistresses; one of these produced for the pope a son,
whom he named purposely and unashamedly Cesare, that is, Caesar
in Italian. Pope Alexander encouraged and assisted his son in turn-
ing the Papal States (the territory in central Italy ruled by genera-
tions of popes before Alexander) into a kingdom for their own family
to hold on to, especially by means of military force. Cesare’s efforts
510
also seriously altered the balance of power in the Italian Peninsula

(then divided into separate, competing countries) and obliterated ri-
vals within Rome itself. Only the unexpected death of Alexander VI
in 1503 halted Cesare’s successes; without Papal sanction for his ac-
tions, himself ill, and his enemies in Rome and beyond straining at
the chance to take him down, the position of Cesare Borgia rapidly
unraveled. He fled to Spain, homeland of his family, where he died
(embroiled in further dynastic intrigue and war) four years later at the
age of only thirty-two. The famous political theorist, Niccolò Machia-
velli, credited Cesare Borgia, despite his precipitous fall, nonetheless
with being the closest thing to an ideal leader during his lifetime and
perhaps in recorded history up until then. He had certainly lived up
to his ancient namesake in a myriad of ways.
Despite his idealistic preference for a republic, Machiavelli’s years of ex-

perience had taught him to accept one-man rule as a necessary evil in the
“real” world. This is what makes it so odd that he deals so little with the Late
Roman Republic in The Prince; what Florence experienced with the ambi-
tions of the Medici, and the parallels between Florentine society and poli-
tics and the Republic of Rome, should have made the latter an ideal source
of lessons for his time. Instead, when it comes to his selection of historical
figures, he chooses to discuss Roman commanders of the third century BCE,
such as Scipio Africanus and Fabius Maximus, and Roman emperors of the
second and third centuries CE, like Commodus and Caracalla. He mentions
no Pompey, no Sulla, no Marc Antony, not even Caesar Augustus, who
would have made a perfect parallel for Cosimo de Medici (also not men-
tioned). Indeed, of all the potential examples from the Late Republic, the
only one he includes is Julius Caesar.
Caesar appears twice in the handbook. In Chapter Fourteen, in which
he discusses how a prince should organize his militia, Machiavelli asserts
that no better intellectual training is necessary for this purpose than the
study of history, especially the modeling of oneself on some great general
of the past. He reminds his reader, correctly, that Caesar took Alexander
the Great as his role model, hoping to match the latter’s deeds and gain
similar honor. In Chapter Sixteen, on generosity and parsimony, Machia-
velli again mentions Caesar as someone who knew how and when to be
generous. While acknowledging, rightly, that Caesar had risen in power,
in no small part, thanks to his remarkable (even in his own time) spread-
ing around of wealth to his supporters, Machiavelli argues that Caesar
would have fallen from power had he continued to be as generous after
511
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum
achieving mastery of the Roman world. He would have either bankrupted

himself with such lavish giving or have turned to harsh means of rais-
ing money so as to redistribute it, a recipe for resentment from those
forced to give up their wealth to him. Caesar, of course, fits into a cat-
egory Machiavelli discusses in this chapter and elsewhere: the leader who
is generous with someone else’s money, that is, with wealth gained from
conquests, a wealth demanding to be shared with one’s soldiers and other
supporters but a finite wealth unless one intends to wage wars perpetually.
Unfortunately, this was as far as Machiavelli went in his study of Julius
Caesar as a model in The Prince. He refers multiple times to the latter’s ex-
ploits in Gaul and during the Civil War in another of his books, The Art of
War, citing Caesar as an excellent example to follow in all sorts of battle-
field circumstances. Surprisingly, then, Machiavelli did not take Caesar as
the prototype of his ideal prince, when he fit so many of the prerequisites:
realistic, balanced, calculating, intelligent, pragmatic, only ruthless when
necessary, flexible in his morals and his word, loved and feared more than
hated, and cognizant of the lessons of history.
See also: Army; Legions; Military Discipline
Further Reading
Bock, G., Q. Skinner, and M. Viroli. 1990. Machiavelli and Republicanism. Cam-
Bull, G. 1999. Niccolò Machiavelli: The Prince. New York: Penguin Publishers.
Chabod, F. 1958. Machiavelli and the Renaissance. London: Bowes and Bowes.
Gilbert, A. 1965. Niccolò Machiavelli: The Chief Works and Others. Chapel Hill:
Hale, J. R. 1961. Machiavelli and Renaissance Italy. London: English Universities
Press.
Whitehorne, P., and E. Dacres. 2007. Niccolò Machiavelli: The Art of War. Rad-
ford, VA: Wilder Publications.
The Roman People elected Julius Caesar a number of times as a magistrate,
that is, a public official with political, military, and religious responsibilities
and powers. He served as aedile, quaestor, praetor, and consul, following
the cursus honorum, literally the “course (as in race course) of honors,” the
customary sequence of offices starting from the junior level and proceed-
ing to senior level.
During the fifth and fourth centuries BCE, magistrates succeeded to the
various responsibilities and powers of the former Roman kings, who had
been ousted from their rule in the late sixth century BCE. The Roman Senate
512
authorized these magistrate positions, developing them through trial and

error, and there is a lot of haziness about this development for the early pe-
riod because of the inconsistent and sometimes inaccurate literary and in-
scriptional sources now available to us.
Certainly by the end of the fourth century BCE and for the remainder of
the Republic, the top magistrates were the two consuls; these men were
granted imperium, the power to command and to be obeyed, and so served
as the chief military commanders of Rome and the implementers of senato-
rial policy. They still used the ancient symbols of the kings of Rome, such as
the purple-bordered toga, the curule chair made of ivory, the ivory scepter,
and the fasces (the bundle of wooden rods surrounding an axe) carried by
each of the twelve bodyguards, the lictors, who attended each consul wher-
ever he went on official business.
A number of quaestors (twenty in Caesar’s day) assisted the consuls;
these deputies acted primarily as state treasurers, with their headquarters in
the lower level of the great Temple of Saturn, located at the western end of
the Roman Forum. Quaestors might remain in Rome, serve in the major
ports of Italy collecting customs duties, or accompany consuls on military
campaign as paymasters and supply officers for the armed forces or even
serve as deputy commanders in time of need.
Magistrates called praetors also served as deputies to the consuls: the
urban praetor handled matters of civil administration when both consuls
were off at war; the peregrine praetor concerned himself with resident
aliens and foreigners in Roman territory; and other praetors served as mili-
tary commanders abroad (and hence held imperium from the Senate and
People of Rome) or as judges in the Roman court system at home.
In the earliest years of the Republic, whether with imperium (consuls
and praetors) or without imperium (quaestors), magistrates were selected
overwhelmingly from patrician families and probably appointed directly by
the Senate; by at least the end of the fourth century BCE, however, if not
as early as the mid-fifth century, they could be either patricians or plebe-
ians, as long as they were extremely wealthy. Wealth in land became the
chief condition for holding public office; one had to own property valuing
a minimum of 400,000 sesterces or 100,000 denarii, roughly 300 times the
annual income of the average Roman worker, that is, something like the
difference in our society between the income of a school teacher and a mul-
timillionaire. So, Roman magistrates were always independently wealthy,
receiving no salary in exchange for doing their duty as public servants; in
fact, they often had to contribute their own funds to supplement the rela-
tively small official budgets they received from taxes.
In addition, magistrates were no longer normally appointed by the Senate
but instead were elected by the Popular Assemblies, the annual conventions
of Roman voters. Campaigning for office through such popular elections
513
could lead to bankruptcy, and frequently did in the Late Republic, so remain-
ing in public affairs again necessitated great wealth. The Comitia Centuriata
(Assembly of Centuries or Centuriate Assembly) elected consuls and prae-
tors; quaestors were elected by the Comitia Tributa (Assembly of Tribes or
Tribal Assembly). By the Late Republic, election to any of these three magis-
tracies automatically enrolled one as a life-time member of the Senate.
Wealthy plebeians gained access to the offices formerly held only by pa-
tricians, as noted earlier, thanks to a series of hard-fought laws passed in
the period between 450 and 300 BCE. They also established magistrates of
their own in that time period, that is, magistrates who had to be of plebe-
ian ancestry to be eligible for candidacy. This came with the creation of the
Concilium Plebis, the Meeting of the Plebeians. In this gathering of exclu-
sively plebeian voters, ten tribunes of the plebs were elected, as were the
two plebeian aediles.
Tribunes had the duty to remain always close to Rome to help and pro-
tect citizens (what was called the ius auxilii or right of aid) who appealed
to them against the government in any way; tribunes could, therefore, indi-
vidually or as a group publicly address the People of Rome anywhere in the
city at any time without interruption from the Senate or other magistrates.
They convened and presented proposals to the Meeting of the Plebeians
and acquired the same rights in the Tribal Assembly and the privilege of
summoning and addressing the Senate.
Plebeian aediles performed functions that protected Roman commerce,
infrastructure, and public safety, especially policing market places, businesses,
and construction sites; supervising food and water supplies; providing pub-
lic entertainments; maintaining the streets, public buildings, temples, and so
on, as well as intervening in acts of rape and violence. The patricians in the
Senate and among the voters apparently considered these responsibilities too
important to hand over to plebeian officials alone, and so they authorized the
election of two curule or patrician aediles by the Comitia Tributa to do paral-
lel tasks, but as assistants to the consuls rather than the tribunes.
Originally, neither the office of tribune nor the office of aedile admitted
one to the Senate. By the second century BCE, however, a number of laws
had changed this, which seriously altered the role of tribunes and plebeian
aediles, formerly opponents of “the establishment,” now members of “the
establishment.”
Aside from their specific powers, magistrates had limited terms of of-
fice (one year) and always shared their particular powers with colleagues of
equal authority; Romans referred to this as par potestas, equalizing power.
They could check the actions of their immediate colleagues through inter-
cessio or the right of intercession; one would simply say “Veto,” “I forbid
that action.” The two consuls had the special power to veto all other mag-
istrates, which gave them maior potestas, superseding power, while the ten
514
tribunes possessed the right to veto senatorial resolutions, proposals, and

actions of their own colleagues and all other magistrates, even laws in the
Popular Assemblies, not because they had maior potestas or imperium—
they did not—but because the plebeians vowed a sacred oath to stand be-
hind the tribunes’ decisions or exact vengeance on those who stood in their
way. Individual Roman citizens also had the right to stop a magistrate from
exercising his power against them by appealing (provocatio) to their fellow
citizens, which then legally required the convening of a popular assembly to
determine whether the magistrate’s actions were or were not legal.
Roman citizens trusted that all these restrictions would increase co-
operation and compromise and reduce the chances of foolish or radical
behavior and unrestrained competition among their leaders, very real pos-
sibilities given that election to office did not legally require any confirmed
expertise or training. Fortunately, seldom did a totally inexperienced man
become a magistrate; most had at least served some amount of time in the
military, had been lawyers in the Roman courts or had been appointed to
one of the minor government posts, like mint-master, custodian of the
roads, and so on.
Though most ordinary magistracies, the political offices mentioned so
far, were selected by the People of Rome every year on a regular sched-
ule and with limited powers, they also chose one set of ordinary magis-
trates whose powers and term of office went beyond the norm. These were
the two censors, the special executives, originally only patricians, later ei-
ther patricians or wealthy plebeians, who officially registered adult Roman
males and their families according to age, wealth, and residence through
the Roman census. They also evaluated members of the Senate in terms of
their wealth, health, and conduct to determine if they were fit to remain
members of that august body; censors had the power to censure a member
of the Senate or even expel someone from the Senate. They did the same
for members of the equestrian order. Lastly, they protected public moral-
ity (what Romans called the cura morum or care for morals) through vari-
ous forms of scrutiny and decrees issued against individuals; they famously
could place a black mark next to a citizen’s name in the census rolls to in-
dicate how dishonorable had been his conduct, temporarily removing from
him many of his civic rights. Censors served eighteen-month terms but
were only elected every five years (under ideal conditions) by the Assembly
of Centuries; few men sought this onerous honor.
Roman custom evolved over time to determine when one should hold
particular high offices, and such custom became solidified by law in the
early second century BCE and again in the early first century BCE with state-
ments of minimum age requirements and minimum time-intervals between
offices. In addition, holding the same office twice required an interval of
at least ten years. The thus-stabilized sequence of offices or positions of
515
honor, the cursus honorum, began formally with the quaestorship, held at
the age of at least thirty. Next came the praetorship, at the age of thirty-
nine. Finally, consuls had to be forty-two years old. If one sought either
the curule or plebeian aedileship, one was expected to have already served
as quaestor. For plebeian politicians, a tribuneship could be held before or
after the quaestorship, but one usually had to be thirty years old to stand
for it. Censorships were reserved for ex-consuls.
Despite the remarkable growth of Roman power and territory, first in
Italy, then around the Mediterranean, which made this relatively small
array of high officials quite inadequate to the task of running a vast empire,
the Roman People and especially the Roman Senate hesitated for genera-
tions in increasing the number of ordinary magistracies. Even though sen-
ators relished competing over offices, they did not welcome having more
posts to fight over, since this would have diminished the individual value
and perhaps the power and influence of each office; more posts at the lower
levels would also have left more candidates in the running for the two con-
sulships at the top, and no one seemed to want more of those to be cre-
ated or for there to be any more disgruntled politicians who had failed to
attain them.
Even Caesar, once he became the dictator of Rome, reformed the magis-
tracies in only a modest attempt to meet the administrative needs of the state.
He increased the number of quaestorships from twenty to forty, of aedile-
ships from four to six, of praetorships from eight to sixteen. He basically ab-
sorbed the powers of the censors himself when he made changes to the census
process, removed senators convicted of extortion, added equestrians to the
Senate, and elevated certain plebeian families to patrician status. As for the
coveted consulships, he made no changes, aside from delaying elections (as
he did also in the cases of quaestorships, aedileships, and praetorships) until
late in the year, contrary to long tradition. The only official post untouched
by Caesar was the tribuneship, and understandably so, since he went to war
with Pompey and other members of the Senate, ostensibly, to protect the
rights of tribunes, and any interference in the tribuneship could have sparked
serious trouble with the people. In the end, Caesar used the magistracies to
reward more of his loyal supporters and to fragment the individual powers of
political offices.
Roman citizens considered service to the state to be the duty of their ar-
istocracy of status and wealth; aristocrats viewed the magistracies that way
as well, but also as means to military experience and glory, political and
economic connections, profit and power, and the enhancement of personal
and familial dignity. Many of these views held true among the Founders of
the United States, who studied the Roman magistracies very seriously and
carefully, especially the checks and balances among their powers and re-
sponsibilities, when designing a “modern” Republic.
516
Marcellus Cousins
See also: Dictator; Elections; Equites; Patricians; Plebs; Popular Assemblies;

Senate
Further Reading
Astin, A. 1958. The Lex Annalis before Sulla. Brussels, Belgium: Latomus.
Lintott, A. W. 1993. Imperium Romanum. London and New York: Routledge.
Lintott, A. W. 2003. The Constitution of the Roman Republic. Oxford, UK: Oxford
University Press.
Marcellus Cousins
Three members of this ancient and most distinguished Roman family, the
brothers Marcus Claudius Marcellus and Caius Claudius Marcellus, as well
as their cousin, also named Caius Claudius Marcellus, stood as some of the
toughest opponents of Julius Caesar. They also helped to precipitate a Civil
War with the intention of bringing him down.
The first opportunity for the Marcelli to stand in the way of Caesar’s am-
bitions came in the year 51 BCE. Caesar’s nearly decade-long conquest of
Gallia Comata (roughly central and northern France, Belgium, and parts of
Germany and Holland) had come to a successful conclusion and he hoped
to be honored with an official triumphal celebration on his return to Rome.
He also sought to stand for the consulship in absentia, which would have
allowed him to slip smoothly from his provincial command into a position
of political power in Rome, thus protected from his many enemies there.
Pompey, the only senator who could truly rival Caesar, seemed to support
this, but M. Marcellus, as one of the consuls in 51 BCE, and a skilled orator,
strongly opposed it. To campaign for one of the two consulships, a candi-
date needed the approval of both of those who currently held that office
and would preside over the election of their successors; Marcellus vetoed
Caesar’s candidacy.
Marcellus went further as representative of the views of the Optimates
(especially Cato, Caesar’s staunchest opponent, who had been prevented,
thanks to Caesar’s machinations, from becoming consul himself); since the
wars in Gaul were over, they saw no reason for Caesar to continue in com-
mand there, especially in command of ten legions of Romans, not counting
auxiliary troops; the Optimates also wanted to bring Caesar home to stand
trial for breaking all sorts of customs and taboos during his first consulship
back in 59 BCE. So, Marcellus pushed the Senate to end Caesar’s provincial
command, send out successors to take charge of his three provinces, and
recall him to Rome no later than March 1, 51 BCE.
Pompey again spoke up for Caesar and prevented this motion from car-
rying; though he couched his reasons in terms of respect for Caesar, he
517
Marcellus Cousins
probably regarded the proposal as setting a precedent that he himself would

not have wanted to abide by in the future. Marcellus’s own consular col-
league, Serv. Sulpicius Rufus, also opposed the motion on legal grounds. It
then seems, according to the young senator Caelius Rufus in a letter to the
famous orator Cicero, that Marcellus proved true the rumors about him as
being slow and ineffective, since he decided to delay bringing up another
motion regarding Caesar’s provincial command until June 1. Yet, Marcellus
did continue pressing the issue through the summer months, despite the
real hurdle of not getting enough senators to vote in his favor.
Finally, on the last two days of September, a raft of resolutions passed
the Senate, instigated by Marcellus. One of them stated that no vetoes or
other forms of obstruction would be allowed to prevent senatorial debate
on the assignment (really reassignment) of provincial commands (including
Caesar’s). Another called upon the consuls of the following year to conduct
such a debate (if that opened by Marcellus failed to produce results) no
later than February 19, 50 BCE and to treat the reassignment of provinces
(should Caesar not step down from his) as top priority as of March 1, 50
BCE. A third opened the opportunity for Caesar’s soldiers to appeal for dis-
charge (regardless of his approval) directly to the Senate. Yet another urged
the selection of governors for all provinces (excepting Caesar’s and Pom-
pey’s), with the intention of thereby leaving no place for Caesar to go to
except back to Rome to face his enemies.
Returning to the summer of 51, Marcellus had also made a point of
showing his utter contempt for the “laws” passed during Caesar’s consul-
ship eight years before; like the other Optimate senators, he regarded these
as invalid since they had been pushed through the Popular Assembly with-
out senatorial sanction, using bribery and violence among the voters. Mar-
cellus targeted specifically the law of Caesar’s key henchman, P. Vatinius,
plebeian tribune back in 59, that permitted Caesar to establish a colony of
Roman citizens at Novum Comum (modern Como) in Transpadane Gaul
(Italy north of the Po River). Marcellus rejected this measure as illegal and
illustrated his objection by flogging a prominent man of that town who
served in the local senate; according to Vatinius’s law, that status would
have qualified the man as a Roman citizen and thereby immune to the pun-
ishment of flogging. Not only did Marcellus have this punishment inflicted
upon him (as though the man were impersonating a citizen), but he also
sent him off to Caesar so that the latter would see the scars on the man’s
back and understand the true meaning of Marcellus’s action.
Though most of the Optimates seemed to agree with what Marcellus
had done, not everyone in the Senate saw this as a wise move. In July 51
BCE, for example, Cicero wrote about this incident to his close friend At-
ticus; he disagreed with Marcellus’s behavior and considered it disgraceful
for a consul. Cicero respected the Transpadani, who had partial citizen
518
Marcellus Cousins
rights at that time and feared that Marcellus had not only aroused Caesar’s
anger at himself and those who backed his action, but also aroused Pom-
pey’s anger, as the latter was a patron of the Transpadani and on hand in
Rome to do something about it all.
Nonetheless, the Marcelli kept up their attack on Caesar. They managed
to get another member of their family, C. Marcellus, elected as one of the
consuls of 50 BCE; Caius was the first cousin of Marcus. This time, Caesar
bribed the other consul, L. Aemilius Paullus, with a large sum of money to
keep C. Marcellus in check. The latter, nevertheless, continued his cousin’s
previous efforts at recalling Caesar and sending out replacement governors;
the Senate became even more divided over this issue, with Caesarians op-
posing the Optimates, and most other senators caught somewhere in be-
tween. After months and months of wrangling, near the end of the year,
Marcellus decided to propose two separate motions: one motion, that suc-
cessors should be sent out to take the provinces from Caesar, passed the
Senate; the other, that Pompey should be relieved of his provincial com-
mand over Spain (which Caesar had insisted upon as a condition for his
own stepping down as governor), found a majority of senators opposed. In
the point of view of Marcellus and his Optimate allies, the upshot was clear:
the majority of the Senate favored Pompey over Caesar and the latter no
longer had a leg to stand on.
This political maneuvering of C. Marcellus crashed into a huge, and
unexpected, obstacle. One of the plebeian tribunes, C. Scribonius Curio,
who had always stood against Caesar, but had recently received a huge
bribe from him, interposed his veto to prevent senatorial motions against
Caesar. Eventually, Curio formally proposed to the Senate that both Cae-
sar and Pompey step down from their provincial commands and retire into
private life. Though Marcellus retorted that Caesar was a latro (“thief,”
“mercenary,” or “brigand”) and should be declared hostis (public enemy),
if he did not surrender command of his army and provinces, literally almost
95 percent of his fellow senators disagreed and voted in favor of Curio’s
motion. It turned out, to the dismay of the Marcelli and their allies, that
the vast majority of the Senate wanted both of the big rivals for power to
just go away.
C. Marcellus did not accept this reality, though. He dismissed the meet-
ing of the Senate, scolding its members for basically opening the way for
Caesar to become their future master. Soon, he reconvened that body, how-
ever, when rumors reached Rome of Caesar’s “invasion” of Italy. Disputing
this, Curio used his veto to prevent Marcellus from declaring Caesar a pub-
lic enemy based on such false reports. On December 2, Marcellus stormed
out of the Senate and, accompanied by his colleague Paullus, he went to
where Pompey was staying outside the city limits and handed him a sword.
Marcellus had taken it upon himself as consul, regardless of the position of
519
Marcellus Cousins
the other senators, to “defend the safety of the Republic”; he and Paullus
ordered Pompey to lead an army against Caesar, authorizing him to take
charge of armed forces in Italy (including two legions which Caesar had
sent down to reinforce Bibulus, governor of Syria, in his conflict with the
Parthian Empire) and to raise further levies as he saw fit.
Civil War had begun, though not quite. Caesar attempted to stop it
through negotiations, offering to hand over almost all of his provincial
powers, to which Pompey appeared sympathetic. C. Marcellus was not and
since Pompey’s authority at this juncture as “defender of the Republic”
came from him (and Paullus) his opposition prevented any peace talks.
Caesar tried again with the consuls of the new year, 49 BCE, writing them a
letter which had less conciliatory terms; he insisted on his rights and privi-
leges and threatened to defend his dignitas against his enemies, but he did
offer to lay down his command in compliance with the motion carried by
Curio. In fact, Caesar had entrusted delivery of his letter to that former
plebeian tribune; two plebeian tribunes of the new year, Marc Antony and
Q. Cassius, made sure that the consuls did not keep its contents private but
read the letter out to the assembled Senate on January 1, 49 BCE.
These new consuls, though, had already been won over by Marcellus,
since they, too, were both enemies of Caesar; they were Lentulus Crus and
another C. Marcellus, this time the brother of Marcus. Lentulus, at least
according to Caesar’s own account of events, had the greater determina-
tion to obstruct any peace negotiations; the Imperial biographer Plutarch
places him with the C. Marcellus who met with Pompey. The new consul
Marcellus, later regarded as cowardly by Cicero (in a letter to Atticus dated
May 49), perhaps followed Lentulus rather than leading the charge against
Caesar. Surprisingly, his brother, M. Marcellus, proposed not taking any ac-
tion to aggravate Caesar until a sufficient military force had been collected
to protect the Senate and the city of Rome from possible attack; Cicero
later wrote to him commending this proposal as the action of a wise man of
sound judgment. Lentulus, however, harshly rejected Marcellus’s idea and
his colleague apparently remained silent, thereby leaving his own brother
out in the cold.
Instead, both consuls pushed the Senate to support a motion from Pom-
pey’s father-in-law, Metellus Scipio, that declared Caesar, all his associates,
and his troops public enemies (hostes); six days later, under further pressure
(including armed intimidation) from Pompey and the Optimates, the Sen-
ate declared a state of emergency and authorized the officials of state to take
action against Caesar to protect the Republic. The consuls chased his sup-
porters, including Marc Antony, out of Rome on pain of death and worked
to rouse support behind Pompey as the “protector” of the Republic.
Even after Caesar’s unexpectedly rapid entry into Italy proper and the
consequent second-guessing of the senators in their support for war (e.g.,
520
Marcellus Cousins
Cicero stood among those who sought continued negotiation instead),

Marcellus and his consular colleague simply rejected any accommodation
with Caesar. They escaped Rome on January 18 to avoid confronting Cae-
sar’s arrival directly and followed Pompey in a strategic retreat from Rome
into southern Italy, where they hoped to build an army sizable enough to
stand against the “invader.” By mid-February, the consuls had left the re-
gion of Campania, an important recruiting ground centered on the Bay
of Naples. Pompey wished one of them to join him in southeastern Italy
(Apulia or modern Puglia), while the other proceeded to the island of Sic-
ily; both came to him, instead. When Pompey decided to remove his forces
to Greece and make his stand against Caesar there, Marcellus and Lentulus
assumed command of the first forces that made the crossing.
Eventually, Pompey placed C. Marcellus in charge of warships gathered
from the Greek island of Rhodes. Ancient sources fail to mention him after-
ward, however, not even in connection with the key battle of Pharsalus in
the summer of 48 BCE, in which his colleague Lentulus participated. Most
probably, Marcellus had died before then—the circumstances a mystery.
In the meantime, neither his brother, Marcus, nor his cousin, the other
Caius, joined the war against Caesar, despite their hostility toward him.
Caius stayed in Italy and went into retirement with Caesar’s blessing; in
fact, it was probably around that time (rather than earlier as sometimes
suggested by scholars) that he made a strong connection with Caesar by
marrying the latter’s great-niece, Octavia, sister of the future emperor,
Octavian-Augustus. Caius outlived Caesar for a mere four years.
Marcus also retired, but in Greece, where he had accompanied Pom-
pey without actually fighting in the Civil War on either side, apparently
because he came to see both as evils that he could not stomach. In the
fall of 46 BCE, he finally received Caesar’s pardon, despite the latter’s
understandable hesitation; the overwhelming majority of the Senate at
that time (including cousin Caius) begged Caesar to do this and Cicero
roundly praised him in a speech that still survives. The latter then wrote
repeatedly to Marcus, as his personal friend, encouraging him to return
to Rome, to participate in and contribute his talents to the continuing
political life of the Republic, and imploring him also for the sake of his
cousin’s happiness.
Marcus’s fate was not so peaceful as his cousin’s, though. His response to
Cicero suggested that he would, indeed, return home. In late May 45 BCE,
however, a man named Magius Chilo murdered M. Marcellus in the port
of Athens, apparently after the two had had dinner together. The reason is
unclear; ancient authors mention Chilo’s financial indebtedness to Marcel-
lus as a probable cause, as well as the fact that Chilo resented Caesar’s par-
doning of Marcellus, perhaps because he had hoped that the dictator would
have done the dirty work of getting rid of his creditor for him. Fortunately
521
Marius (ca. 157–86 BCE)
for Marcellus, his former colleague, Sulpicius Rufus, was there in Athens
(having actually visited him a few days before the tragedy), arranged for his
funeral, and for the burial of his ashes in the gardens known as the Academy
(famous for the philosophical school established there by Plato).
The fates of the Marcellus cousins thus ran the gamut of possibilities in
the era of Caesar’s rise to power. Their careers illustrate the passions, am-
bitions, and traditions fought over by many senators of the Late Republic
and the impact of so-called lesser figures on the decisions and actions of the
so-called great men of Rome.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Bibulus (d. 48 BCE);
Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Citizenship; Curio (d. 49
BCE); Debts Laws/Loans; Dignitas; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/
Gallia Cisalpina; Hostis; Legions; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Opti-
mates; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular As-
semblies; Provinces; Senatus Consultum Ultimum; Senate
Further Reading
lishing.
Publishing.
University Press.

According to a famous anecdote, the dictator Sulla saw in the young Ju-
lius Caesar not one but “many Mariuses.” Caesar’s uncle by marriage, C.
Marius certainly served in some ways as a sort of role model for his nephew.
More importantly, Marius set into motion many of the issues that faced
522
Caius Marius among the Ruins

of Carthage, print by J. Vander-
lyn, 1842. As part of his exile
from Rome in 87 BCE, Marius
fled to North Africa for refuge;
though he never did reach the
ruins of Carthage, the image of
him doing so became a popular
motif in European art. (Library
of Congress)
Caesar and his generation and many of the forces that destabilized the Late
Republic and opened the doors to dictatorial rule.
Marius was the greatest example of the successful novus homo or “new
man” in the Late Republic, someone who rose to prominence in the Sen-
ate from a family previously outside the senatorial aristocracy, in Marius’s
case, a family of equestrian status with roots in the Latin town of Arpi-
num. He held seven consulships in his lifetime, five of them in succession,
thanks to his connections within the Roman aristocracy (like his patrons,
the Metellus family, or the Julius family into which he married), within the
upper levels in the Centuriate Assembly (especially fellow members of the
equestrian order from which he originated), among Roman voters in gen-
eral (especially after defending the secret ballot as tribune of the plebs),
and among Roman soldiers (having served with distinction twice in Roman
Spain and probably also in the province of Asia). The desperate need for a
good general in two instances of crisis, however, did most to catapult Mar-
ius’s remarkable career forward.
In 109 BCE, the consul Q. Caecilius Metellus took the field against
Jugurtha, king of Numidia (roughly modern Algeria and Libya); though
a formal ally of Rome, Jugurtha had provoked this war by repeatedly
523
disobeying orders of the Senate and endangering (indeed taking) the lives
of Roman citizens within his territory. Metellus was not the first com-
mander sent against him (indeed the war had been going on already two
years before he arrived) but was the most energetic and honorable so far,
and set out to methodically devastate Numidia and thus force Jugurtha’s
surrender. As a good Roman patron, Metellus appointed as his senior lieu-
tenant or legate his client, C. Marius.
Despite some Roman successes, the conflict against Jugurtha continued
for almost two more years, and Marius, whose relations with Metellus had
become strained, broke with his former patron and determined to take
command of the war for himself. Returning to Rome on leave, he played
on popular and equestrian discontent with the progress of the war, and
using the connections and support noted earlier, to win a consulship, again
a major feat for a new man. According to the historian Sallust, Marius ar-
gued that his own hard work, experience, personal virtue, and reputation
qualified him more for the consulship than the typical ancestral credentials
of the Roman nobility, a classic defense of the new man as well as a clear
attack on the noble Metellus. Marius next engineered a law removing Me-
tellus from the command against Jugurtha and appointing himself as re-
placement. Many in the Senate objected to this but yielded in the face of
the significant pressure brought to bear not only by Marius’s supporters
across Roman society but also by political opponents who accused resistant
senators of bungling the war or even colluding with the enemy. Metellus
was recalled to Rome.
In dire need of sufficient forces to win the increasingly unpopular war
against the Numidian king, Marius disregarded the normal property quali-
fications for soldiers and invited thousands of poor Roman farmers and
especially city dwellers, the latter known as proletarians (because they had
little besides their proles, their kids), to sign up with his army. In exchange
for their good service to him, he promised compensation in land.
Marius was not the first commander to employ proletarians in this way;
they had been levied as emergency forces before, especially during the Sec-
ond Punic War against Hannibal. His action, however, combined with the
increasing need for large numbers of Roman troops in the wars of the Late
Republic, led to a general disregard of the property qualifications for mili-
tary service in the years to come.
Commencing his campaign against Jugurtha in late 107 BCE, Marius
continued to attack and seize towns and fortresses, as Metellus had done,
but also adopted Jugurtha’s own guerilla tactics against him; Marius had
considerable experience of such methods already from his earlier service in
Spain. For example, he made use of a new tactical unit, the cohort, stan-
dardized by him but probably first developed by the famous Scipio Africa-
nus. Marius divided his legions into ten cohorts, each consisting of about
524
500 soldiers; each cohort could function independently like a mini legion
and maneuver more effectively in the desolate terrain of Numidia. In addi-
tion, Marius equipped his men at the state’s expense under the Gracchan
military law, arming all of his heavy infantry with the same standard weap-
ons and armor, which made them more formidable under attack.
Jugurtha tried to shore up his position by allying formally with his
father-in-law, King Bocchus of Mauretania. Nonetheless, two difficult
Roman victories over the combined Numido-Mauretanian armies late in
106 BCE induced Bocchus to betray Jugurtha to the Romans; Marius sent
his quaestor, L. Cornelius Sulla, to arrange the arrest, which took place
early the next year. What should have amounted to little more than a po-
lice action on the part of Rome, and had instead dragged on for years, had
finally been settled by the new man Marius in virtually no time; this was a
severe blow to the prestige of the senatorial nobility and made Marius, and
his popular and equestrian backers, appear totally justified in their argu-
ments against their “betters.”
By the time Marius returned home in triumph, the People of Rome had
already elected him in absentia to a second consulship, without the requi-
site time interval between offices; he had received special dispensation from
the Senate because of a new national emergency that the People of Rome
expected Marius to confront: German tribes, called Cimbri, Teutones, and
Ambrones, had invaded Roman territory in southern France (Transalpine
Gaul) and seemed poised to invade Italy as well. Rome’s armies had failed
miserably against them so far, especially at Arausio (modern Orange) in 105
BCE, where the commanders’ failure to cooperate with one another had cost
the lives of 60,000 Roman troops.
Marius arrived in 104 BCE to find the remaining soldiers badly shaken,
though partly reconditioned and retrained by his predecessor, P. Rutilius
Rufus, consul in the previous year; Marius improved on this considerably:
he practice-marched the lax troops relentlessly, expecting them to cover
twenty-four miles in five hours while carrying sixty pounds of equipment
on their backs; he drilled them in constant weapons exercises.
In the meantime, year after year, the voters reelected Marius to the con-
sulship, still without him actively seeking it; his colleagues each time were
his friends or those of the aristocracy at least willing to work with him.
Marius’s military glory had secured further political honor without much
effort on his part. To cement his status, and especially to fulfill his promises
as patron of his soldiers, he also utilized the services of one of the plebeian
tribunes, L. Appuleius Saturninus.
Holding office in 103 BCE, Saturninus first arranged through the Meet-
ing of Plebeians for Marius’s veterans from the Numidian campaign to
receive land allotments out of territory confiscated from Jugurtha. This
further contributed to Marius’s military strength against the German tribes
525
as it constituted a considerable inducement for needy men to continue

enrolling in his army; Saturninus, speaking for Marius, assured them that
they would receive rewards of land, too. Whether in or out of office,
Saturninus also urged voters to support the repeated reelection of Marius as
consul.
Marius’s new army, inspired by his charisma and following his strate-
gies, gained two great victories, in southern France against the Teutones
and Ambrones in 102 BCE and in northern Italy against the Cimbri in 101
BCE. The People of Rome had reposed their hopes in Marius and he had
not let them down. Hailed by them as savior of his country and refounder
of Rome, Marius had also kept the highest offices of the land out of the
hands of his noble enemies. He continued to receive the backing of the
prominent equestrian order, which blamed the nobles for the repeated
failures against Jugurtha, and could mobilize a huge clientela (following)
from among them and the common people, especially his veterans.
After the Cimbric War, at the elections of 100 BCE, Saturninus and Mar-
ius pooled these human resources to win reelection, Saturninus to a sec-
ond tribunate, Marius to his sixth consulship; Saturninus proposed colonies
across the Mediterranean as settlements for the veterans of the German
campaign. He also deployed these veterans as armed gangs to intimidate
opponents. This changed the landscape of Roman politics, revealing the
power of a military clientela and the potential dangers of the new relation-
ship between generals and troops forged by Marius.
Saturninus’s reelection as tribune for the third time and his contin-
ued use of massive strong-arm tactics and violence to help friends and
harm, even to kill, opponents cost him the support of Marius; the Sen-
ate declared an emergency decree that empowered Marius as consul to
do whatever he had to against his former ally in the restoration of order.
Marius laid siege to Saturninus and his supporters, who had taken refuge
on the Capitoline Hill; promised safe conduct to the Senate House and
protection by Marius, they were nonetheless attacked and killed inside
the building by an angry mob. The six-time consul had restored order
but lost face.
Marius faded into the background as a retired general, trying to survive
in the world of political debates and courtroom dramas. He traveled to Asia
Minor (modern Turkey) seeking fresh military action, warning King Mithra-
dates VI of Pontus, one of Rome’s allies, to stop threatening other allied
kingdoms in the region, or else; no war materialized there, though—yet.
Instead, closer to home, a massive civil war erupted between Rome and
its Italian allies, the Social War. In 90 BCE, Marius came out of retirement
to serve as legate to one of the consuls, despite the suspicion some senators
had about him of being too “friendly” with the enemy; he did, after all,
have good and close connections with equestrians and other local leaders
526
throughout Italy. Regardless of such suspicions, he proceeded to rout a

contingent of enemy forces, thereby saving fellow legionaries from a disaster
in which his commanding officer had been killed; Marius’s military skill had
not diminished one bit even though he was then about 67 years old. In the
fierce fighting that marked the following two years, however, as the Roman
armies defeated the rebel forces one by one, the battlefields of Italy found
Marius absent; his poor health and advanced age apparently did make him
unfit for further duty.
That did not mean that Marius wanted to sit on the sidelines, though.
He still craved more honors and more glory, and Mithradates once again
appeared to be the means. The latter had broken all agreements with Rome,
seized his neighbors’ kingdoms, and even invaded the Roman province of
Asia (western Turkey). The Senate did approve a declaration of war, but as-
signed the command to Sulla, Marius’s former quaestor (and former friend)
from the Numidian campaign. Marius refused to accept this decision, and,
once again working through a radical plebeian tribune, P. Sulpicius Rufus,
attempted to replace Sulla through legislative maneuver. Marius still com-
manded a large following among the voters, especially his former soldiers.
This maneuvering backfired, however, precipitating useless violence inside
Rome, Sulla’s siege of Rome, and the eventual exile of Marius, as a public
enemy, by the Senate.
His exile, miserable by all accounts, embittered Marius deeply, as he fled
through Italy, across to North Africa, and back to Italy again. On his re-
turn, though, he was welcomed by the rebellious consul of 87 BCE, L. Cor-
nelius Cinna, who was besieging a Rome held by their mutual political
opponents. Gaining entry by promising peace, Cinna, and especially Mar-
ius, murdered their most prominent enemies and arranged to be reelected
consuls, Marius now for the seventh time. He was still planning to replace
Sulla as commander against Mithradates when he died, in January 86 BCE,
from poor health exacerbated by over-drinking.
On Sulla’s return from the East, and with his brief dictatorship in Rome,
and sanctioned by the cowed Senate, he disinterred Marius’s cremated re-
mains, tossing them into the Tiber River, and removed the monuments of
Marius’s victories from the Capitoline Hill. Marius’s teenage nephew, Ju-
lius Caesar, never forgot this insult to his family. Years later, as quaestor, he
delivered a public eulogy for his aunt Julia, Marius’s widow, in which he
prominently praised Marius as well, and, as aedile, he revived his uncle’s
reputation by conspicuously restoring copies of the latter’s victory mon-
uments to their proper places; even as presiding judge in the murder court,
Caesar engaged in judicial attacks on Sulla’s surviving henchmen. Caesar
topped it all off by crushing the menace posed by the Gallic and Germanic
tribes as well as the Optimates, the new “Sullas.” Caesar had taken up Mar-
ius’s mantle as the savior of Rome.
527
Marriage/Divorce
See also: Army; Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Equites; Libya/Numidia; Op-
timates; Populares; Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Carney, T. 1961. A Biography of C. Marius. Assen, MN: Royal Van Gorcum Press.
Evans, R. J. 1994. Gaius Marius: A Political Biography. Pretoria, South Africa:
Unisa Press.
Marriage/Divorce
According to the famous code of law promulgated in the sixth century CE
by the emperor Justinian, the Romans defined marriage as “the union of a
man and a woman, a partnership for life involving divine as well as human
law” (23.2.1). It took over 1,000 years of many changes and develop-
ments in the institution of marriage and in the legal status of women for
the Romans to formulate such a seemingly simple and modern-sounding
concept. In Caesar’s day, Roman tradition, history, and laws enacted by
the Popular Assemblies with senatorial approval established what mar-
riage was and how it might be dissolved. For Romans, marriage was al-
ways a practical social institution for the producing of legitimate children
(as heirs) and the solidifying of political, economic, and social alliances
between families.
As was the case in many ancient societies, in Rome from early times mar-
riages were arranged by the respective parents (or legal guardians) of the bride
and groom. This sponsalia or betrothal might have been under negotiation
from the very births of the young couple and could certainly be conducted
even in their absence, but custom established that it could not be made for-
mal until they were about seven years of age, old enough to comprehend
what was happening. Julius Caesar’s contemporary, the linguist M. Terentius
Varro, wrote that a simple, yet formal, mutual exchange of promises and con-
sent was all that was needed for a betrothal; we know that for generations up
to that time, the method of betrothal had become quite flexible and hence
varied across families. A waiting period of at least five to seven years was still
typical, however, to ensure that the boy and girl had reached puberty and
could, therefore, consummate their marriage and begin a family. Julius Caesar
was just a boy, for example, when his father arranged his betrothal to a young
girl of the Cossutii. We do not know if the engagement lasted the typical span
of years, but we do know that Caesar broke it off when he was about sixteen.
The betrothal of Caesar and Cossutia is interesting because members of
patrician families, like the Julii Caesares, rarely set up engagements to mem-
bers of equestrian families, like the Cossutii; perhaps there was some con-
cern over finances, since the Cossutii were famously well-to-do architects
528
Marriage/Divorce
with interests in the stone-working business from Italy to the Greek islands.
This calls to mind one of the fundamental parts of the betrothal negotia-
tions: the arrangement for the bride’s dowry, legally her contribution to
the new household’s assets. From the scanty evidence dating from the Re-
public, one can deduce that a dowry was not required for establishment
of a valid union. Nevertheless, the Romans had developed several forms
of dowry by Caesar’s time. First, the bride’s family might present money
or land to the groom, who became its new owner, although it would still
be referred to as the bride’s patrimony. Second, the bride’s family might
assume or reduce a debt on behalf of the groom or his family. Third, the
bride’s father or guardian might replace her with her new husband as heir
to the family estate in the absence of other male heirs; she was said to have
waived her right of succession, though often she would not even have been
consulted on the matter, let alone have any say in it. Last, the bride’s family
might transfer to the groom their legal right to prosecute or sue someone
who had committed wrongdoing against them; presumably, the wrongdoer
would also have been an enemy of the groom or his family to make this an
attractive offer.
Romans placed certain legal restrictions on intermarriage (conubium) of
individuals based on social rank, nationality, and even occupation. Members
of the senatorial elite could not marry former slaves, pimps, prostitutes, ac-
tors, or any other member of other “unclean” professions. Relations by
blood or adoption could not marry any closer than the level of first cousins,
which became more and more common by the end of the Republic; guard-
ians could not marry their wards. A Roman man could not legally marry a
foreign woman; if he did so, his “woman” and their children would remain
legally foreigners. The same was true if a foreign man married a Roman
woman, which he might do if he acquired conubium from a grant of the
Roman State; however, his wife could petition the Roman government to
further grant her husband and their kids Roman citizenship. Slaves had
no conubium; marriage with or between slaves was not considered legal.
Contubernium (“common dwelling”) was permitted between slaves for the
breeding of slave “stock.” Most of these restrictions aimed at preserving
the integrity of Roman citizenship and property rights or guarding against
perceived reproductive or economic dangers.
Once past all the qualifying factors, Romans of Caesar’s time practiced
two forms of marriage, manus marriage and free marriage. In the more
traditional manus marriage, the bride was legally removed from her natal
family, especially from the legal power of her father or guardian, and le-
gally enrolled as a member of the groom’s family; this usually meant that
her husband had legal authority (manus) over her just as if she were his
daughter (in fact, this made her heir to his legacy along with his/their chil-
dren), although in some cases, the groom’s father would also have such
529
Marriage/Divorce
legal authority over her. Her property belonged to her husband and he ad-
ministered her legal affairs; a family council, typically consisting of the hus-
band’s male relatives, weighed in on any wrongdoing of his wife.
Under the form of free marriage, a bride remained legally under the au-
thority of her father or guardian with no interference of the husband. This
often allowed her to maintain and administer her own assets within the
marital household, the use of which she might consent to grant her hus-
band or not. As a consequence, a wife in free marriage had no right of in-
heritance from her spouse nor did he from her; even their children had no
right to any of her property, which would revert to her natal family, unless
she specifically stipulated otherwise in her will. These and other character-
istics of free marriage imparted greater legal and economic freedom to the
wife. As daughters of Rome’s prominent families began to inherit larger
shares of their natal families’ estates in the Late Republic, this type of mari-
tal arrangement increasingly appealed to them and women turned to free
marriage as opposed to manus marriage in ever greater numbers.
The free marriage did not entail anything in terms of ceremony; the
bride and groom had simply to live together for a specified period of time
to be considered legally married. Manus marriage was different in that
there were three ceremonies associated with it; thus, those Romans at-
tracted to pomp and circumstance, or whose status demanded it, contin-
ued to engage in manus marriage even in the Late Republic. The most
solemn, sacred, and elaborate ceremony, the confarreatio, was presided
over by one of the pontiffs, required the presence of at least ten witnesses,
and included a large feast at the home of the bride’s father followed by a
torchlight procession ending at the groom’s house. This was probably the
sort of wedding ceremony celebrated by Caesar and his first wife, Cornelia,
daughter of the consul, L. Cornelius Cinna, not only because it was com-
mon among the patrician families (a distinction shared by both the Julii
Caesares and the Cornelii Cinnae) but also because Caesar and Cornelia
had been chosen by Cinna to hold the prestigious posts of flamen and
flaminica Dialis, priest and priestess of Jupiter, who were expected to be
married by confarreatio.
Another very ancient manus ceremony, the coemptio, developed from the
early form of marriage as the purchase of a mate. A mock sale of the bride to
the groom, complete with token money and the use of scales to weigh the
“merchandise,” took place, witnessed by at least five persons.
The third manus ceremony, the usus or usucapio, was the least formal.
After obtaining the necessary approvals from family or guardians, along
with the appropriate witnesses, the bride and groom cohabitated for one
year, at the end of which the wife was considered to be fully under her hus-
band’s legal authority. It was probably out of this sort of manus marriage
that the free marriage evolved in the second century BCE.
530
Marriage/Divorce
With marriage came divorce. The earliest cases of divorce in Rome pun-
ished only the wife with expulsion (repudium) from the household, merited
by such things as infertility, criminal activity, misuse of the family assets, or
adultery. (Roman society during the Republic condoned men, especially
of the upper class, in their extramarital affairs as long as they did not in-
volve betrothed or married women.) The husband was required to pro-
nounce formal words of divorce in those marriages sealed by manus; he
did not have to provide any actual proof of wrongdoing on the part of his
wife unless a family council, this time consisting of relatives from both her
family and his, convened to determine punishment beyond simple expul-
sion. Needless to say, under these circumstances, the divorced woman had
very few legal options, if any. Again, this led to the appeal of free marriage,
from which either partner could initiate divorce for any reason as long as
mutual consent was eventually obtained. No witnesses, no procedures, no
paperwork. That is, unless the wife, or her natal family, raised a fuss over
the recovery of her dowry, something the Roman law courts began to con-
cern themselves with more and more from the early second century BCE
onward. By Caesar’s time, contests over dowry were very common. An ex-
wife could demand full restitution in court; the ex-husband had the right to
retain up to one-sixth of the dowry if his wife had been divorced on crimi-
nal grounds and up to one-half of the dowry if he could demonstrate its
necessity for support of their children.
Roman custom always allowed men to remarry if they chose to. Pom-
pey the Great, for instance, was married five times, lost two of his wives
“AEGISTHUS”
According to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Pompey the Great
often referred to Julius Caesar as “Aegisthus.” Aegisthus was a charac-
ter from Greek tragic drama; in the most common legend, he seduced
Clytemnestra (apparently without much resistance on her part), wife
of his famous cousin Agamemnon, while the latter was away in the
Trojan War. Aegisthus later conspired with Clytemnestra to murder
Agamemnon when he finally returned home from the fighting. For
Pompey to have associated Caesar with Aegisthus would have been to
condemn Caesar as a charming, but treacherous, wife-stealer, a back-
stabbing villain. Indeed, Pompey may have had very good reason for
doing so, since writers from the Late Republic accused Caesar of hav-
ing seduced Pompey’s third wife, Mucia Tertia.
531
Marriage/Divorce
(Aemilia Scaura and Julia) in childbirth, and divorced twice, once for po-
litical reasons (Antistia), and the second (Mucia Tertia) supposedly on the
grounds of wifely infidelity. His last wife, Cornelia Metella, blamed herself
(i.e., Pompey’s political connection with her family through her) for his
falling out with Caesar and the consequent Civil War.
Divorced (and widowed) women were traditionally expected not to re-
marry, but by the time of Caesar, such taboos had weakened considerably,
partly under political pressures. One example of this was how Sulla ar-
ranged the divorce of his pregnant stepdaughter Aemilia Scaura simply for
her to marry Pompey; whether she had any chance of refusing the wishes
of her stepfather and her mother is doubtful and the stress of it all probably
contributed in no small part to her death in childbirth not long after. An-
other example was how Cornelia Metella, the young widow of P. Licinius
Crassus, had barely three years to mourn her husband’s tragic end in the
Parthian War before her father arranged her political marriage to Pompey,
perhaps twenty years her senior.
Marriages within the Roman aristocracy frequently sealed political part-
nerships, so naturally divorces often broke such cooperation. For example,
when Sulla attained the power of dictator in 81 BCE, he strongly requested
that Pompey divorce in order to marry Sulla’s own stepdaughter, thus seal-
ing their political friendship; Pompey complied, though somewhat reluc-
tantly. When Julius Caesar was ordered to divorce Cornelia, the daughter
of Cinna (Sulla’s nemesis), Caesar refused, demonstrating his continued
loyalty to the opposing faction and thereby endangering his own life. Cae-
sar found protectors among his mom’s side of the family, who had joined
Sulla’s cause, but Sulla, nonetheless, stripped Caesar of Cornelia’s dowry as
a punishment. Yet another example of the political effects of marriage and
divorce comes from Pompey’s later life: after nearly twenty years of mar-
riage, Pompey divorced Mucia, the mother of his two sons, on the grounds
of infidelity during his long absence on campaign. Her cousins, especially
Q. Metellus Celer, a prominent Roman senator and magistrate, and former
legate of Pompey, turned on Pompey as a result, causing much trouble for
him and his associate, Caesar.
Social conservatives, like Cato the Younger, complained that political in-
fluence and positions in the government were basically being prostituted by
frequent, wholly pragmatic marriages and divorces. Despite such protests,
however, such behavior continued, especially among the aristocracy, even
into the early generations under Imperial rule as the Romans held on to
their more flexible definitions of such institutions.
See also: Calpurnia; Cato (95–46 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Corne-
lia (d. 69 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion,
Roman; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
532
Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE)
Further Reading
Rawson, B. 1991. Marriage, Divorce, and Children in Ancient Rome. Oxford, UK:
Clarendon Press.
Treggiari, S. 1991. Roman Marriage. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.

The prosperous and influential ancient city of Massilia stood against Julius
Caesar during his Civil War with Pompey the Great. By way of a prolonged
siege, Caesar’s forces reduced the town’s resistance and secured his com-
plete control of Gaul (modern France).
The modern city of Marseilles on the coast of southern France began as
the Greek colonial settlement of Massalia (referred to as Massilia in Roman
texts) in the late seventh century BCE. Greek merchants had been sailing
along that coast for generations and the colonists, sent out by the city-state
of Phocaea in Asia Minor (modern Turkey), negotiated with the local Li-
gurian tribe (the Segobriges) to acquire the site, a promontory surrounded
by water on three sides and approached, with difficulty, from the land on
the fourth side. The location and situation provided natural protection to
the colony from pirates and marauding Gallic warriors, while its proximity
to the Rhone River valley opened up access to trade with the Gallic tribes
further inland; in exchange for wine, olive oil, and pottery, the Massiliotes
received tin, grain, and amber from the Gauls. The harbor of Massilia was
ideal for maritime commerce and opened the way for stiff competition with
the Carthaginian merchants who were expanding their markets northeast-
ward from their bases in Spain; this led to military confrontations as early as
the fifth century BCE, which saw the Massiliotes come out on top. As noted
earlier in the entry on Gallia Comata, the continued commercial rivalry
between Massilia and Carthage was one of the major causes of the Second
Punic War between Rome and Carthage, the Romans claiming to defend
Massiliote interests in the Western Mediterranean. From then on, the city
remained one of Rome’s firmest allies in southern France.
When Civil War began between Pompey and Caesar in 49 BCE, one of
Pompey’s firmest allies and Caesar’s inveterate enemies, L. Domitius Ahe-
nobarbus, intended to assume command of the provinces of Gaul; the sena-
tors in support of Pompey had agreed to this, while Caesar continued to
consider himself the rightful governor. Domitius delayed his departure for
Gaul until after his defeat (and despite his release) by Caesar at the Siege of
Corfinium. In the meantime, young noblemen from the allied city of Mas-
silia, who had visited with Pompey before his retreat from Rome, arrived
home to encourage their fellow townspeople to support Pompey against
533
Caesar. Having chased Pompey out of Italy and taken control of Rome,
Caesar did not want to have a hostile Massilia, with great wealth and a pow-
erful fleet, in his rear, perhaps working with Domitius; so, Caesar soon left
Rome for southern Gaul, arriving in April 49 BCE.
When he arrived, Caesar discovered the gates of Massilia locked against
him and intelligence reports indicated that the Massiliotes had collected
large stores of grain and other necessary supplies, were beefing up their for-
tifications and ships, and had also arranged for the aid of local Gallic tribes-
men against Caesar. Massilia possessed a strong oligarchic government, a
council of 600 lifetime legislators presided over by a committee of fifteen
executives chosen from among them. Caesar demanded a conference with
the Fifteen, in which he warned them not to stand against him and instead
to take the posture of the towns of Italy, most of which had quickly agreed
to avoid hostilities by accepting Caesar’s authority. After conferring with
the Council of 600, the Fifteen replied that their government could not
decide between Caesar and Pompey; while they acknowledged that during
his tenure as governor of Gaul, Caesar’s relations with them had been quite
positive, they also insisted that from Pompey as well they had received equal
benefits in the past (referring to Gallic territories that had been handed over
to Massilia by Pompey). The city offered to remain neutral in the Civil War
by cutting itself off from both belligerents.
The duplicity of such statements became clear when Domitius arrived
and the Massiliotes admitted him into their city and gave him command of
its defense against Caesar. Domitius ordered their ships to scour the area
for stores of grain and to confiscate all civilian vessels they came across to
bolster Massilia’s fleet and increase its material resources. In response to
these actions and the now-hostile posture of the city, Caesar placed it under
siege by three of his veteran legions. While Caesar himself proceeded to
Spain against Pompey’s legates there, he left the siege operations under the
command of Trebonius, with Decimus Brutus in charge of the blockading
fleet of twelve warships.
The Massiliotes mustered their vessels under Domitius’s authority, who
placed archers, Gallic warriors, and many poor (but desperate) Romans that
he brought with him from Italy onboard as marines. Brutus commanded
fewer ships but onboard were some of the very best soldiers from Caesar’s
legions; they were prepared to fight hard with their weapons, but they also
had all the apparatus necessary for seizing and boarding the enemy warships.
When the two fleets engaged, a bitter struggle commenced. The Mas-
siliote ships made great speed and possessed clever helmsmen and skilled
oarsmen, who attempted to make use of these advantages by ganging up
on individual vessels of Brutus’s or slamming through their banks of oars or
keeping their distance to encircle the Caesarians. The latter did not possess
such advantages, since their ships were heavier and slower and their crews
534
green, but they sought every chance to grapple the enemy ships and send
their marines into hand-to-hand combat with the enemy crews. In the end,
this proved good enough, as the Massiliote fleet gave up the fight after hav-
ing lost nine vessels captured or destroyed.
The Massiliotes, who had not lost heart or courage, turned to repairing
damaged ships and preparing further ones from all their supplies. Indeed,
the entire population of the city had apparently come to believe that their
next naval battle with the Caesarians would mean either decisive victory
(and safety) for themselves or total destruction; as a result, every able-bodied
man in Massilia had been called up to serve, and especially the members
of the aristocracy had “volunteered” to man the fleet as marines. Domi-
tius, meanwhile, received reinforcement warships under Nasidius, sent by
Pompey himself all the way from Greece. Women, children, and the elderly
prayed to the gods in their temples and watched hopefully and dreadfully
from the walls of Massilia as their fleet and that of Nasidius joined up along
the coast to the east of the city.
Decimus Brutus hurried his vessels to engage them. As in the first con-
frontation at sea, this one also was difficult and fierce. Indeed, Brutus’s flag-
ship was almost smashed between two Massiliote vessels; like a scene in a
modern movie, his crew managed to make speed just in time to get out of
the way, the enemy ships collided with one another, causing severe damage,
and other Roman vessels came in for the kill by surrounding and sinking
the attackers. In the meantime, Nasidius’s crews proved unreliable; hav-
ing no true personal or patriotic stake in saving Massilia from capture, they
were unwilling to really risk their lives in the battle. They soon withdrew
from action on various pretexts and sailed off to Spain. The Massiliotes hav-
ing fought so bravely and skillfully, nonetheless, suffered sufficient losses
to persuade them to retreat into port. The further defense of grief-stricken
Massilia would have to rely on resisting the Roman siege.
All the while the naval battles had been in progress, Caesar’s land forces
under Trebonius had been constructing their siege works. They had sum-
moned workers and supplies, especially of timber, from all across the Roman
province of Narbonensis (roughly Provence today) to accomplish the mas-
sive, and slow, task. A siege-ramp sixty feet wide and eighty feet high, made
of earth shored up by a considerable amount of timber, was necessary to
reach the top of Massilia’s walls on the landward side of the city. As the Ro-
mans erected this, the Massiliotes used artillery devices, like their massive
tormenta (giant-size crossbows) and catapults, to bombard the workers and
soldiers outside. According to Caesar’s own account, such devices hurled
large missiles, twelve feet long, with such force that they penetrated the
usual protective screens employed by the Caesarians. To counteract this,
the latter designed covered passageways of thick timber and a large mobile
hut (tortoise) of the same material to shield themselves as they built up the
535
ramp. Of course, the Massiliotes did not let this stop them; they ordered
their Gallic allies to rush out of the city from protected spots and regularly
harass the Roman troops and disrupt their work with firebrands.
In response, Caesar’s men decided to build, about sixty feet from the
ramparts of Massilia, a brick fort, thirty feet square with walls five feet thick,
as a place of refuge and regrouping. Over time, they very ingeniously in-
creased the height of this fort, turning it into a stationary siege tower, vir-
tually impervious to artillery missiles and fire. From its base, they threw out a
covered passageway in the direction of Massilia’s walls, not just made of thick
timbers but also covered on top with brick, clay, animal hide, and wet quilts,
to protect it from fire, as they had done with the roof of the siege-tower fort.
The defenders of Massilia dropped large chunks of stone and fiery bar-
rels of pitch onto the siege passageway, to no effect, and were attacked
themselves by volleys of javelins and other missiles from the Roman siege-
tower fort. From inside the protection of the passageway, the Roman sap-
pers had dug under the wall of Massilia and brought a portion of it to
collapse. Crowds of civilians rushed out of the opening in the wall, begging
for Roman mercy and asking for a cessation of hostilities until the return
of Caesar from his victory in Spain. Trebonius agreed to this, knowing that
Caesar did not at all wish his enraged troops to take the city by force.
The truce was uneasy. From both sides came raids against the other,
especially a night raid in which the Romans were beaten back from their
attempt to penetrate the city, and a midday raid by the Massiliotes, who
successfully destroyed by fire almost all the siege works of the Romans,
including their siege fort. Not surprisingly, Caesar, in his official account,
placed all the blame for the violation of the truce on the Massiliotes, whom
he accused of the basest treachery.
His men had few timber resources left to them to construct new siege
works, so they attempted to build a ramp flanked by thick walls of brick,
topped with what wood they had left, and covered over in clay to guard
against fire. The Romans advanced this structure toward the walls of Mas-
silia, again with the plan to undermine them and invade the city. The ex-
traordinary efforts of the exhausted, but never-more-determined, forces of
Caesar caused the Massiliotes now to pause and critically examine their po-
sition. After all, Caesar’s fleet had the city blocked off by sea and his ground
troops had cut off any escape by land; they seemed resolute in doing over
and over again anything needed to hold and take the city. On their side,
the people of Massilia were suffering from illness and dwindling supplies of
fresh food after nearly six months of siege. So, the Massiliote government
requested another truce and offered to surrender in good faith.
Caesar arrived in late October to accept this surrender. He ordered the
Massiliotes to hand over all their weapons and ships, as well as all the money
in their treasury; to guarantee their continued cooperation, he stationed
536
Masters of Rome (McCullough) (Books 1990–2007)
two Roman legions in the city. Otherwise, Caesar decided to take no fur-
ther punitive action against the Massiliotes, out of respect, he said, for their
ancient alliance with Rome. With Massilia secure, Caesar had no further
need to worry over the Gallic territories for the remainder of the Civil War
nor, indeed, for the rest of his lifetime.
See also: Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Trebo-
nius (d. 43 BCE)
Further Reading
De Angelis, F. 1994. The Archaeology of Greek Colonisation. Oxford, UK: Oxford
University Committee for Archaeology.
Rivet, A.L.F. 1988. Gallia Narbonensis. London: Batsford.
Masters of Rome (McCullough)

(Books 1990–2007)
In recent decades, especially, historical fiction set in the world of the an-
cient Romans has become quite popular. Julius Caesar, not surprisingly,
has caught the attention of the authors of such fiction and appears among
their central characters as they try to re-create the experiences of the Late
Roman Republic for modern-day readers. A good example of this sort of
writing is the series of books collectively titled Masters of Rome by one of
the most productive of contemporary authors, the Australian, Colleen Mc-
Cullough.
Colleen McCullough’s series consists of seven truly massive books, each
close to 700 pages in length. The earliest, The First Man in Rome, fo-
cuses on the rising career of Caesar’s uncle, Marius. The second, The Grass
Crown, witnesses Marius’s fall from grace and the rise of his former friend,
Sulla, as his chief competitor. The third, Fortune’s Favorites, addresses
Sulla’s securing of power through violent means and his dictatorship and
the early achievements of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar. Next comes Cae-
sar’s Women, which, despite the attention the author does give to Caesar’s
mother, daughter, wives, and other romantic relationships, is truly about
his rise to power in the political arena. McCullough’s fifth book clearly il-
lustrates her special interest in Caesar among all the other “great” men
she has described. Titled Caesar: Let the Dice Fly, it picks up in the middle
of his military campaigns in Gaul (roughly modern France), in fact, at the
moment of his second invasion of Britain (perhaps not surprising coming
from an author with an audience largely within the nations of the British
537
Commonwealth), and then primarily addresses his most famous victories

over the Gauls and his fellow Romans at the start of their Civil War. The
author’s sixth book, The October Horse, completes the picture of the Civil
War and of Caesar as dictator of the Roman world, and covers his assassina-
tion and its aftermath, with the rise of his successors, Octavian and Antony,
up to their victory at Philippi. Pressure from her devoted readers convinced
McCullough to round off her series with a seventh volume, titled Antony
and Cleopatra, thereby carrying the story down to the victory of Octavian
and the full establishment of the veiled monarchy in Rome.
McCullough appears to have set herself a task quite similar to that of the
Imperial Greek biographer Plutarch who also sought to understand the end
of the Roman Republic by reconstructing the life stories of certain men,
especially the Roman generals Marius, Sulla, Pompey, Caesar, and Antony.
The period of time that both the ancient author and the modern one thus
cover is almost identical, with McCullough coming farther forward in time
since she reaches in her narrative through to the final victory of Caesar’s
adopted son, Octavian-Augustus in 27 BCE. Still, like Plutarch and other
ancient thinkers, McCullough has clearly absorbed their emphasis on re-
laying history by telling the story of “great” men. Her work rivets readers’
attention on the personalities, achievements, and failures of these figures,
demonstrating her mastery of a huge amount of evidence about them as
well as her inventiveness in developing more of them than even our ancient
sources can tell us. All the other elements of Roman society and culture,
other historical persons, and especially the issues plaguing the Republic, are
seen as they come to bear upon the lives of these “great” individuals. What
we have are not so much modern novels as new versions of the old biogra-
phies melded together into larger wholes.
The author’s “analysis” (if one should use such a term about historical
fiction) does not include much out of the ordinary compared with any-
thing one might find in a standard history text on the time period; she
develops no unusual insight into the troubles of the Late Republic. Mc-
Cullough’s fascination with “great” men, however, especially with those
who damaged the integrity of the Republic by their actions, leads readers
to the overall impression that such individuals understood what was bet-
ter, in a practical sense, for the Roman Empire (and for their own careers,
of course) than did their opponents, who seem irredeemably flawed in
their lifestyles and judgments within her presentation. In fact, she seems to
have taken this point of view even further than the ancients (except maybe
some rhetoricians and speechwriters) especially in her fascination with Ju-
lius Caesar as a “man of the People,” a savvy politician, a daring military
strategist.
However much he may have been any or all of these things in fact, Mc-
Cullough lacks the healthy dose of ambivalence with which even Greek and
538
Roman authors regarded Caesar. They recognized his political opponents

as some better men than he, some lesser, with Caesar himself simply more
lucky or more blessed than they. His successes did not make him right in
a moral or political sense, at least, not any more right than his adversaries.
McCullough, on the other hand, appears to idealize or perhaps idolize Cae-
sar, not really addressing his many flaws. Further proof of McCullough’s
fixation on Caesar is the fact that she had first intended to end the series
with her sixth book, which described the death of his principal assassins.
She thus seems to be yet another contributor to the resurgent mythology in
our contemporary world, noted among so many students and a large seg-
ment of the general public, that regards Caesar as a heroic figure, regardless
of (and fully conscious of) his clearly self-serving agenda.
Despite the extraordinary length and density of these novels, then, they
seem to display a lack of interest in the true complexities of the period of
the Late Republic, which modern readers would do well to learn more
about, not only for their intrinsic value but also for what can be learned
for application in our own world. McCullough does a great job bringing
battles to life, with all their threads of strategy and tactics, emotion and re-
gret, and has a fantastic grasp on the workings of the institutions of the Re-
public. Yet, by falling into the trap of Caesar’s own self-image, promoted
in his memoirs and disseminated through so much of our other ancient
sources, she has come to portray other figures from his time as simply foils
for the demonstration of his grandeur. This sadly minimizes readers’ un-
derstanding of the many real people who made the Republic tick, not just
the “great” individuals; then again, even such persons seem to be simply
reflected off of Caesar to prove his faultlessness and their own lack of merit.
Like any other society, whether in the past or present, there were more than
simply heroes, villains, and fools in the Late Republic of Rome, though this
truth McCullough apparently ignores.
Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Dictator; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Marius (ca.157–
86 BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Plutarch’s Lives; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
McCullough, C. 1990. The First Man in Rome. New York: HarperCollins.
McCullough, C. 1991. The Grass Crown. New York: HarperCollins.
McCullough, C. 1993. Fortune’s Favorites. New York: HarperCollins.
McCullough, C. 1997. Caesar’s Women. New York: HarperCollins.
McCullough, C. 1998. Caesar: Let the Dice Fly. New York: HarperCollins.
McCullough, C. 2002. The October Horse. New York: HarperCollins.
McCullough, C. 2007. Antony and Cleopatra. New York: HarperCollins.
539
Mediterranean Sea
Mediterranean Sea
The first Roman writer to use the term mare Mediterraneum or Mediter-
ranean Sea was C. Iulius Solinus in the early third century CE; the name
derives from the Latin for “the sea in the midst of the land.” Most Romans
before and after Solinus’s time, however, referred to this body of water sim-
ply as mare nostrum or “our sea.”
The Mediterranean is bordered by the coast of southern Europe on the
north, the coast of the Middle East on the east, and the coast of North Af-
rica on the south, with a western opening through the Straits of Gibraltar
(what the ancients called the Pillars of Hercules). It is thus at the center of
tremendous seismic activity, as the tectonic plates supporting these encir-
cling land masses converge and collide there. The ancients would have had
a rough sense of this from the volcanism of the region, especially in Sicily
and southern Italy, and the frequency of earthquakes across the Mediter-
ranean basin; it should not surprise us that the god of the sea, Poseidon to
the Greeks, Neptune to the Romans, was also credited with all seismic dis-
turbances.
The ancients could not have known just how deep the sea is; they could
not have known how its floor is as geographically complex as the surface
of the land encircling it, again both the result of much geophysical action.
View of the Mediterranean Sea at the Strait of Gibraltar (looking across from Spain to
Morocco). (Oksana Mitiukhina/Dreamstime.com)
540
Mediterranean Sea
They did have a clear idea, though, both of the dangers and the benefits of
the Mediterranean to human travel and communication. Its minimal tides
meant the possibility of smooth travel across the sea by ship; the abundance
of broken coastline on some shores or stretches of sandy beach on others
provided convenient places to anchor. Travel and communication by sea
certainly proved easier and faster than overland, where one would often en-
counter geographical obstacles (e.g., the Alps or Balkans) or simply be un-
able to transport heavy materials (like the tons of grain that came to Rome
from Egypt in Caesar’s time) over long distances; the Greeks learned this
truth long before the Romans. Still, the Mediterranean could be difficult
to navigate, especially in the winter months, but even at other times of the
year, when sudden and violent storms (the product of the sea’s focal po-
sition climatically) might develop with little warning—hence why the an-
cients did most of their shipping only during a few months of the year and
always hugged the coastlines to keep sight of land and safe harbor.
Julius Caesar defied the storms of the Mediterranean (really of that por-
tion of it which we call the Adriatic) in his hot pursuit of his chief rival,
Pompey the Great, during the second year of their Civil War. He had past
experience of traveling by way of the Mediterranean; some three decades
earlier, he had seen military service in the Roman province of Asia (modern
west-central Turkey), which would have required him crossing the Adriatic
to make a first stop in Greece before crossing the Aegean Sea to arrive at his
post and, of course, making a similar journey in reverse to return to Italy.
Since that time, his career, as we know it, gave him no cause to travel by
“the inland sea” again until his pursuit of Pompey, when he ignored all the
dangers of crossing at the height of winter (perhaps his lack of experience
contributed to his boldness in this maneuver).
Pompey, on the other hand, had much more experience of the Mediter-
ranean, having crossed over to North Africa for a military campaign in his
early twenties and especially having commanded a fleet of warships to curb
piracy throughout the sea in his late thirties. Despite his greater awareness
of what the Mediterranean was like, even Pompey defied the safe method
of travel along the sea coast in favor of heading straight across the open
sea in the fall of 48 BCE; after his defeat in the Battle of Pharsalus, he was
attempting to escape from the pursuing Caesar and made his way from the
island of Cyprus right down to Egypt. Caesar, not surprisingly, followed
suit, making his way there from the island of Rhodes, again straight across
open waters. Each of them had beaten the strong north winds (Etesians),
which caused terrible shipwrecks in the fall and winter months and pre-
vented return travel from North Africa to Europe. Caesar later utilized
those winter winds to cross quickly from Sicily to North Africa (it took
him only three days), though risking the rest of his fleet in the process. The
war against Pompey’s surviving supporters had kept him bouncing around
541
Memoirs
the Mediterranean, but this journey to North Africa and back was his last
crossing by sea.
Caesar, Pompey, and their fellow Romans called the Mediterranean “our
sea” not only because their empire encompassed it but also because they un-
derstood how essential it was to their military success and economic prosper-
ity. It was the defining, unifying geographical feature of the Roman world.
See also: Adriatic Sea; Navy/Ships; Ocean; Piracy; Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Arenson, S. 1990. The Encircled Sea. London: R.M. Constable.
Casson, L. 1971. Ships and Seamanship in the Ancient World. Princeton, NJ:
De Souza, P. 2002. Piracy in the Graeco-Roman World. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Grant, M. 1997. A Guide to the Ancient World: A Dictionary of Classical Place
Names. New York: Barnes and Noble.
Hammond, N.G.L. 1981. Atlas of the Greek and Roman World in Antiquity. Park
Ridge, NJ: Bristol Classical Press.
Talbert, R.J.A. 1985. Atlas of Classical History. New York: Routledge.
Memoirs
Like modern-day heads of state, particularly U.S. presidents, a number of
Roman statesmen from the period of the Late Republic left behind ac-
counts of their achievements deliberately written with a wide audience in
mind. They called them commentarii, which we sometimes render into En-
glish using the vague term “commentaries,” perhaps more appropriately
translated as “memoirs.” Julius Caesar himself bequeathed to posterity the
most famous of such writings in the Bellum Gallicum, his memories of the
Gallic Wars, and the Bellum Civile, his reflections on the Civil War between
himself and his enemies in Rome.
The tradition of commemoration out of which the Roman approach to
memoir-writing developed was threefold. First of all, custom demanded that
every military commander serving the Roman Republic provide the Senate
with one or more reports from the field; the Senate not only wanted, and
needed, to know what happened “out there,” but it also wanted to know
how much it cost and why. Over time, other officials of state, such as mag-
istrates and priests, compiled similar sorts of reports, both for the sake of
basic recordkeeping and for justification of actions taken. Sometimes, these
reports were conveyed by way of letters to the Senate during a command-
er’s operations or an official’s tenure of office; sometimes, at the conclusion
542
Memoirs
of a military assignment or term of office, the commander or official deliv-

ered a report in the form of a speech to the Senate. Such speeches could,
of course, be copied down by those in attendance or by their professional
scribes, or by the speaker and his staff, for public record or circulation out-
side the Senate in a “published” format.
Whether oral or written in format, reports generally tended to be the dry
detailing of facts. Not surprisingly, though, the writer or speaker also en-
gaged in interpretation rather than simply citing of the facts, thereby con-
textualizing his deeds as accomplishments, what Romans termed res gestae
or “things achieved,” and thus pursued a sort of self-commemoration. The
outstanding example of this form, the Res Gestae Divi Augusti or Achieve-
ments of the Divine Augustus, designed by the first Roman emperor, Au-
gustus (Caesar’s adopted son, Octavian), tediously reads like a laundry list,
especially of enormous amounts of money spent by him, but, in the process,
conveys to readers for what actions Augustus wanted to be remembered.
A second influence in the development of the Roman memoir was the
historical tradition of the Romans, specifically the custom of recording the
annales or annals. The most important priestly college in Rome, the ponti-
fices or pontiffs, maintained summaries of the religiously significant events
of each year (annum in Latin, hence the name of the records); since just
about anything that happened in Rome might be interpreted as having re-
ligious import, they included also more “mundane” details, such as items
about wars, laws, and magistrates. Caesar, as Pontifex Maximus or Chief
Pontiff himself, would have had direct access to the largest compiled ver-
sion of these Annales Maximi (Great Annals), eighty books worth of his-
torical material.
Around the same time that this first compilation of the annales was made
(mid- to late second century BCE), authors outside the pontifical college, in
creating their own historical works, began to imitate the straightforward,
detail-oriented approach of the annales. The chronicles of these “annal-
ists,” unlike other works described as “histories,” did not focus on solving
questions about a particular event or issue or theme, but rather delineated
developments across a period of years, with seemingly little interpretation
from the author (though not necessarily less intrusion of his biases). Annals
purported, at least, to tell “just the facts.”
The final tradition that fed into the creation of memoirs was the funeral eu-
logy. As noted elsewhere in this volume, the Romans, especially the families
of the upper class, delivered speeches to immortalize the deceased, recount-
ing, again, greatest actions and character traits. In addition, as part of the
funeral ritual, members of the family dressed up like other ancestors, whose
life stories they recounted for the assembled mourners. Some of this could
become quite elaborate public theater, designed to “spin,” as we would say
today, an image of the family and of its contributions to Roman society. It
543
Memoirs
was, thus, not that great a leap for a Roman statesman to engage in some
preemptive “eulogizing” of himself through the composition of a memoir.
So, again, Romans had a lot of practice at self-commemoration. Particu-
larly powerful figures sought to use the established methods to ensure that
their version of events, and, therefore, their version of their own image,
survived as opposed to others.
In the period of Caesar’s youth, the memoir as a sort of self-promoting
autobiography came into its own among the Romans. M. Aemilius Scaurus
composed the earliest recorded memoir sometime before his death in 89 BCE,
when Caesar was just eleven years old. Around the same time, two other
statesmen, Q. Lutatius Catulus and P. Rutilius Rufus, both enemies of Cae-
sar’s famous uncle Marius, created memoirs of their own. Instead of a fully
autobiographical work, Catulus apparently focused on the few years in the
late second century BCE during which he and Marius campaigned against a
Germanic invasion of Italy. Later authors put this memoir to use in their ac-
counts of the time period and reveal that Catulus engaged in “spinning” the
facts to exalt himself and denigrate Marius. Rutilius’s account was broader,
covering the wider history of his lifetime, but still viewed through the lens
of his personal and political experiences and riddled with bias. From what
we know of this work, which, like the others, survives only in the fragmen-
tary quotations incorporated in later writings, it most closely resembled
what today one might expect from a typical politician’s memoir, reflecting
on the news of the day from the vantage point of how events impinged the
writer or how the writer influenced the outcome of history.
Certainly the memoir of greatest impact came from the dictator Sulla,
arch-enemy not only of Marius but also of Caesar’s father-in-law, Cinna,
and, indeed, no friend of young Caesar himself. Later authors, for genera-
tions to come, made considerable use of it to construct their own accounts
of the events and persons of the period. Sulla died when Caesar was twenty-
two, so Caesar was old enough and aware enough by then to understand
all the nuances of the dictator’s self-promotion. The latter had left behind,
in the care of his friend Lucullus, the unedited final draft of his extensive
memoir, in twenty-two books, evidently longer and more detailed than
anything that had been seen before. Sulla packed it full of information on
the wars and diplomatic endeavors that constituted his career right up to
the end. More importantly, however, the dictator engaged in the full-scale
exaltation of himself as the “favorite of Venus,” the “Fortunate One,” al-
most a divinely appointed savior of the Republic from its internal and exter-
nal enemies. We can certainly assume that his full-scale disparaging of rivals
reduced them to stock characters, or worse yet ciphers, the sort of thing we
see in Augustus’s Res Gestae nearly a century later.
Lucullus published Sulla’s memoir after the latter’s death in 78 BCE. By
the time of his own passing around 56 BCE, Lucullus had followed in the
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Memoirs
footsteps of Rutilius and Sulla in composing one of his own (apparently in

both Greek and Latin), purportedly as a history of his times. He had much
to justify for posterity: his steadfast devotion to Sulla even to the point of
civil strife, his competition with Pompey the Great, the “darling” of the
People of Rome, and his opposition to Julius Caesar.
When he set his own hand to a similar task, writing the works we
know today as the Bellum Gallicum and the Bellum Civile, Caesar would
have had Lucullus’s work as one of the most immediate examples of self-
commemoration. Also available for emulation would have been the writ-
ings in poetry and prose of the famous orator, Cicero; in these, the latter
promoted a particularly positive impression of the controversial events of
his consulship (in 63 BCE).
In both of these most recent exemplars, Caesar would have observed
how to publicize himself for the present age and to immortalize himself
for posterity. More importantly, he would have learned how to make his
commentaries into what memoirs seemed designed for within the Roman
context: to justify one’s actions to one’s supporters and one’s detractors.
Memoirs had developed as just another weapon in the political arena. Cae-
sar’s memoirs were no different, but they may have surpassed all the others
of the genre by then produced when we consider that they survived virtu-
ally intact while the rest fell by the wayside.
See also: Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cicero, Mar-
cus (106–43 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Dictator; Education;
Eulogies/Imagines; Letters; Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86
BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Oratory; Pompey (106–48 BCE);
Religion, Roman; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Press.
Dorey, T. A. 1966. Latin Historians. New York: Basic Books.
545
Military Discipline
Welch, K., and A. Powell. eds. 1998. Julius Caesar as Artful Reporter: The War
Commentaries as Political Instruments. London: Duckworth.
Military Discipline
Julius Caesar once boasted, it was said, that his soldiers could storm Mount
Olympus if he ordered them to do so. This was not a purely egotistical
statement nor was it a result of good luck. Caesar’s army was one of the
greatest fighting forces Rome ever produced. One reason for this was that
he instilled in it a strong core of military discipline.
The drafted citizen-army of Rome had always been kept in line by a com-
bination of tangible rewards and the strictest of punishments, both care-
fully and publicly administered. Whereas the rewards came from the hands
of commanding officers, in the form of bonuses, military decorations, and
grants of land, the punishments, though ordered by officers, came usually
at the hands of one’s own comrades, in the form of whippings, beatings,
and even executions. Serious dereliction of duty, cowardice in battle, theft
from or false witness against one’s comrades, and even homosexual behav-
ior merited death by beating at the hands of one’s own unit.
Despite such regulations, the Roman army, across the centuries of the
Republic, had its serious moments of discipline breakdown. These moments
had become more frequent since the beginning of the second century BCE,
when more and more soldiers found themselves posted to inhospitable envi-
ronments as garrison troops tasked to suppress uprisings (e.g., in the Span-
ish provinces); such operations meant living in uncomfortable conditions
for years at a time with little hope of rich rewards and almost-guaranteed
prospects of illness, injury, or death far from home. By the second half of
that century, new draftees from Italy actually resisted certain postings, call-
ing upon the plebeian tribunes (officials tasked with protecting the com-
moners) to arrest military officers in their defense, or, if these draftees did
proceed to garrison duty, frequently made themselves more troublesome to
their commanders than they were worth.
Generals at the close of the second century, like Caesar’s famous uncle by
marriage, C. Marius, attempted to restore military discipline by recruiting
volunteers from the poorest of Rome’s citizens, the so-called proletariat, as a
supplement to the traditional draft of the propertied ones, putting these vol-
unteers through a rigorous training program akin to that used in the gladi-
atorial schools, and promising such troops enormous rewards in land, loot,
and cash, if need be, from the general’s own pocket. Not every commander
in the next century followed Marius’s example, but those who did so ben-
efited from much more loyal, hardworking, and focused fighting men than
the others.
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Military Discipline
Cases of poor discipline continued, of course; there was no surefire way

to prevent them. For instance, when M. Licinius Crassus assumed com-
mand of the famous war against the slave-gladiator, Spartacus, he found the
Roman troops so shirking and so cowardly that he felt the need to employ
the ancient practice of decimation, by which one-tenth of the problem sol-
diers were randomly selected for beating to death. The rest of the soldiers
quickly fell into line. Three years later, L. Licinius Lucullus, actually faced
a mutiny of his troops during his campaign against King Tigranes II of Ar-
menia, ally of King Mithradates VI of Pontus; the soldiers disliked their
general’s prohibitions against looting the local towns and complained of
their war-weariness and his “tough” expectations. Basically immobilized,
Lucullus soon found himself replaced altogether by the much more easygo-
ing Pompey the Great.
So, by the time of Julius Caesar’s major military campaigns, discipline
within the ranks had become a make-or-break issue for generals to con-
front. Unlike other, stricter commanders in Rome’s history, some of whom
even published detailed lists of punishments for the most minor offenses,
Caesar freely indulged his troops and overlooked their trespasses, as long
as they conformed to his high standards when facing the enemy. He held
all his men to the highest expectations as warriors, never wanting to lose
on account of dereliction of any kind. For such things, Caesar was, indeed,
ready to punish any of his men with an equal measure of severity.
As a result, no one mutinied against him during the entire decade that
he fought wars against the Gallic and Germanic tribes, though his army al-
most went that way in the very first year of those wars during his campaign
against Ariovistus, chief of the Germanic Suebi. The Roman troops had
learned unsettling details about their enemies that generated a wave of fear
throughout the ranks from highest to lowest. Caesar was faced with aristo-
cratic junior officers suddenly requesting to return home or remaining, but
in a state of utter despondency, and making out their wills in expectation
of imminent destruction; even the most battle-hardened of his men, the
centurions and cavalry prefects, came up with excuses to avoid marching
against the Germans.
How Caesar handled this situation gives us a picture of the psychological
juggling act required to maintain military discipline. To combat the grow-
ing panic, he made full use of the traditional method of haranguing his of-
ficers in a council of war, including among them his centurions. He made
much of reminding them of who was in command (not them, but him)
and that none of them had any business questioning or even discussing his
plans; they had made it appear like he needed to learn from them - what a
personal insult to their general it was for them to do all this. Next, having
promised them plenty of food supplies and a strategy of success, he insisted
that Ariovistus, who had good relations with Rome, would not break those
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Military Discipline
without consequences; even if he did, the Roman army had taken on Ger-
man warriors in the past and had emerged totally victorious, so they would
do the same now, unless this new generation of Romans were unworthy of
its ancestry. In fact, only recently, his army had defeated the Helvetii, who
had defeated the Suebi many times; the Romans were superior to their en-
emy’s enemy, he asserted. Lastly, he determined to set out against the Suebi
immediately, without any further delay or time to worry, and threatened, if
need be, to take only the Tenth Legion, his most loyal, and leave the oth-
ers behind in disgrace while he engaged the forces of Ariovistus. Once the
rank-and-file soldiers learned all this, they felt especially embarrassed, so
greatly, in fact, that they compelled their officers in every unit to publicly
apologize to Caesar for even suggesting that any of them had lost their dis-
cipline for fighting. The entire army followed him and emerged victorious.
In the following decade, during the Civil War against Pompey’s forces,
when desertions and mutinies became more common on both sides than
they had ever been in foreign campaigns, Caesar rarely showed leniency;
even when he did, he did so to prove a point and reinforce discipline, show-
ing no qualms about making an example of troublesome troops. That is
why he dishonorably discharged the entire Ninth Legion for insubordina-
tion and only allowed them to serve him again after they had handed over
the instigators of their misconduct for execution and begged him for for-
giveness before the entire army.
As noted above, Caesar’s uncle Marius had been largely responsible for
introducing a new regimen into the physical conditioning and training of
Rome’s soldiers. He had drilled his troops with frequent and challenging
marching maneuvers and weapon exercises modeled on the methods used
in the training establishments for gladiators; in addition, he had expected
his men to carry survival equipment in backpacks amounting to dozens of
pounds and to engage in construction of roads, bridges, fortresses, and so
on, just like generations of their predecessors in the armed services. Caesar,
too, kept his men on their toes by ordering military maneuvers, when not
needed, deliberately at the most unexpected times, such as on holidays, or
under unpleasant conditions, such as cold or rainy weather, to make sure
his men were always in readiness and toughened to the real dangers await-
ing them. They seldom, if ever, knew in advance when he would set them
to march or thrust them into battle. Sometimes, he would test such readi-
ness and the awareness of his forces by telling them to keep an eye on him
and then disappearing from camp in the stealthiest way possible; if they
were up to par, his men would soon discover his absence and his trail and
follow after him for as long as he wanted them to do so.
Caesar went further by pushing his men against a psychological wall of no
escape and thereby released in them not only their warrior skills but also their
animal instinct for survival. He did this often, for instance, by going beyond
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Military Discipline
what military intelligence actually showed about enemy strengths and, instead,
exaggerating the latter; he did not ever soft-pedal such intelligence reports.
What mattered most to him in a soldier was the man’s record in battle.
He showed little concern about the moral reputations of his men and often
overlooked their misbehavior. Indeed, he allowed them to carry on in the
most disorderly fashion after they scored a victory, quite out of keeping
with ancient Roman traditions, and defended this against critics by insisting
that his men could even put on a good fight while reeking of perfume (by
which he really meant while stinking drunk).
Caesar maintained military discipline not only by the usual rewards of valor
but also by decking his men out in the finest equipment, including inlays of
gold and silver. His troops not only appreciated their commander’s generosity
and how well they themselves looked, but they also felt more determined and
fought harder to protect their equipment from falling into opposing hands.
Lastly, Caesar held all of his fighting men and his officers to the same
standard regardless of personal or familial background; he could not have
cared less about their social status. Indeed, he also treated them all equally
with a sort of fatherly devotion, even putting on the customary displays of
mourning (e.g., not shaving or cutting his hair), as one would for relatives
and close friends, on the occasion of any serious setback. He referred to his
troops as his own “comrades in arms,” both privately and in public, and es-
pecially when addressing them. They loved this and it inspired them to do
their best for their commander, their “fellow-soldier.” They also knew that
he himself demonstrated the very model of military discipline in the heat of
things. By entering the fiercest part of a battle in person, Caesar maintained
order, even when this meant grabbing hold of wavering soldiers and forcing
them back against the enemy.
See also: Army; Coronae; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Legions; Pompey (106–48
BCE)
Further Reading
Dando-Collins, S. 2002. Caesar’s Legion. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley and Sons.
Harris, W. V. 1979. War and Imperialism in Republican Rome, 327–70 B.C.
549
Milo (d. 48 BCE)
Holland, T. 2004. Rubicon: The Triumph and Tragedy of the Roman Republic. New
York: Doubleday.
Maxfield, V. A. 1981. The Military Decorations of the Roman Army. Berkeley and
Publishing.
Smith, R. E. 1958. Service in the Post-Marian Army. Manchester, UK: Manchester
University Press.
Milo (d. 48 BCE)

One of the most stalwart supporters of Cicero and Pompey, and thus
somewhat of a thorn in Julius Caesar’s side, was T. Annius Milo Papia-
nus. Rising to prominence in Rome through the employment of armed
gangs in political and judicial venues, his brief career illustrates the com-
plex web of coercion, persuasion, and alliance that characterized the Late
Republic.
Milo came to prominence as tribune of the plebs in 57 BCE. At the time,
one of his predecessors in that office, P. Clodius Pulcher, had arranged the
exile of Cicero on behalf of the First Triumvirate; Milo opposed this and
worked for the recall of Cicero. In this effort, he became close with Cice-
ro’s brother, Quintus, and with other plebeian tribunes and friends of Ci-
cero, especially P. Sestius and M. Caelius Rufus. Together they organized
large numbers of supporters of Cicero from all across Italy and became
some of the most vocal and persistent opponents of the Triumvirs who had
unjustly exiled their friend. Milo and Sestius met with violent resistance
from Clodius, who had organized gangs of ruffians to enforce his whims;
right in the Roman Forum, the heart of the city, Sestius was, in fact, se-
verely injured on one occasion.
Milo and Sestius stood against Clodius, yet they also followed Clodius’s
example by raising gangs of their own. By means of intimidation and pres-
sure within the social and political environment of the city, Clodius and
his gangs thwarted every attempt to return Cicero to Rome; so, Milo and
Sestius had no choice, no matter how distasteful, but to fight Clodius’s
fire with fire. Through such methods, and with the eventual backing of
Pompey, Milo achieved the recall of Cicero during his term of office. From
that time on, Milo had the sometimes tacit, sometimes overt support of
550
Milo (d. 48 BCE)
Pompey, though the latter just as easily backed Clodius in later years, de-
pending on his own interests.
The remaining months of 57 BCE saw street conflicts between the gangs
of Milo and Clodius, which effectively paralyzed governmental and judicial
activity in Rome. In the midst of this, Clodius also sought to prevent the re-
construction of Cicero’s home on the Palatine Hill (which Clodius himself
had arranged to tear down during Cicero’s exile) and frequently threatened
Cicero’s life, even openly in the Roman Forum. His gangs, armed with
swords and firebrands, attacked one of Milo’s residences as well, located
on the western edge of the Palatine Hill, and tried to burn it down in the
broad daylight of late morning. Associates of Milo fought back against this,
joined by other supporters who were “stationed” at another of Milo’s resi-
dences (across the valley alongside the Capitol Hill). Many of their thugs
died in the melee, but Clodius and Milo both escaped unharmed, and de-
bates in the Senate over the matter ended without any penalty for Clodius.
Milo then responded by repeatedly attempting to force a postponement
of the election of aediles, since Clodius was a candidate for that office; by
keeping Clodius a private citizen, Milo would also keep him open to legal
prosecution on charges of public violence. Milo also backed one of the
consuls-elect, Marcellinus, who proposed that Clodius and his associates
be put on trial for everything they had done to Cicero, and that such trial
be held before the aedilician elections. In his capacity as plebeian tribune,
Milo announced that he would “watch the heavens” for omens from the
gods for a favorable election day, basically threatening to veto any proceed-
ings that did not meet with his approval; he gathered around him a sizable
group of armed supporters just to press home the point, and this intimi-
dated Clodius enough to prevent any violence by his side. Cicero felt pro-
tected by Milo, whom he regarded as heroic, clever, and totally unafraid,
and believed that the latter would kill Clodius with his bare hands if he ever
came out for a fight again.
Despite Cicero’s confidence and his own temporary success, Milo soon
found himself resisted by many senators who regarded his maneuvers as in
the interests of Pompey, whose increasing power they feared and resented.
So, the aedilician elections did take place after all and Clodius did win one
of the spots. Within a month of the start of his term in January 56 BCE, he
brought Milo to trial on charges of public violence; Cicero seems to have
arranged for Milo’s defense advocates, including Pompey. Crassus also ap-
peared in Milo’s defense, though Cicero suspected his real motives. Of
course, Clodius employed his gangs in riotous behavior in the streets and
especially in the assembly places of the Roman Forum in an attempt to get
his way, turning them even on Pompey without much fear at all of reprisal.
By the afternoon of the second day of the trial, the violence and counter-
violence of opposing gangs had made adjournment the only safe course of
551
Milo (d. 48 BCE)
action. Afterward, Milo and Clodius built up their forces even larger, Milo
bringing in thugs from as far away as Picenum (today’s southern Emilia-
Romagna and northern Marche regions of Italy) and even Gaul (modern
France). Postponed at first for ten days, then over several months, as a re-
sult of continued upheavals, Milo’s trial was eventually abandoned.
So, Milo, like Clodius, escaped prosecution and moved up the cursus ho-
norum, the sequence of office-holding, becoming praetor in 55 BCE; neither
the Senate nor the Triumvirs did anything really to stop either of them. In
fact, both men functioned as sometimes unwitting stooges in the compe-
tition between Crassus and Pompey and between the Triumvirs and their
opponents. Indeed, Milo had a hard time trusting Pompey and Caesar es-
pecially, neither of whom gave him the support he expected in his cam-
paign for the consulship. Cicero, on the other hand, pulled out all the stops
on his behalf, canvassing and writing letters to gain especially prominent
senatorial votes, and believed that Milo had great chances considering all
the good and influential older citizens and the energetic young men who
would support him out of both principle and obligation.
Clodius had no intention, though, of allowing Milo to rise any higher
in office, and especially of becoming consul. So, in the years from 55 to 52
BCE, the gangs of Clodius, countered by those of Milo, disrupted elections
by stuffing ballot boxes, rigging voting with pre-written ballots, harassing
voters before they voted, and even barricading the entrances and exits at
the elections with armed toughs. In fact, these “gangsters” prevented or
seriously delayed consular and praetorian elections in those years.
In January 52 BCE, Milo’s long-time competition with Clodius ended in
the latter’s murder. At the time, Milo had been preventing Clodius from
becoming praetor. They encountered each other, probably by accident,
along with a number of their respective adherents, on the Appian Way near
the town of Bovillae, about ten miles outside of Rome. Some asserted that
Clodius had planned to assassinate Milo by ambushing him on the high-
way; others contended that the plan had been Milo’s. In the confrontation
that took place, Clodius was wounded and then killed; Milo openly as-
sumed the credit for it and handed himself over to the authorities in Rome.
News of Clodius’s death provoked fresh riots in the city among his sup-
porters, who placed a funeral pyre for his corpse in the Senate house itself
and almost burned it completely down with him. In this serious crisis of civil
unrest, the Senate turned to Pompey, who had command of armed forces
as governor of the Spanish provinces; a special senatorial official known as
an interrex bestowed on him even further powers by appointing him sole
consul to restore order. (In fact, Milo had despaired of this turn of events
for some two years before it actually happened.) Pompey brought his army
into Rome to pacify the rioters, a legalized breach of the pomerium, or sa-
cred boundary of the city, across which otherwise no Roman soldiers were
552
Milo (d. 48 BCE)
permitted to pass. He decreed several new laws to further curb the violence,
including one that set up a special commission (quaestio extraordinaria) to
try the case of Milo’s murder of Clodius.
The procedure of this court was streamlined: unlike in other courts, there
was a ban on written testimony from absent advocates, laudatory orations,
and character witnesses; the law mandated that the entire trial be com-
pleted within no more than five days. Pompey nominated the ex-consul
who would preside over the court; the other judges were selected from a
panel drawn up by Pompey.
During the trial, the Roman Forum, in which it was held, was sur-
rounded by Pompey’s troops and filled with an angry mob of both Clodi-
us’s and Milo’s adherents. Cicero served as defense advocate for Milo and
attempted to brandish Milo’s as a great deed on behalf of the state. Cicero’s
efforts were not his best, as the crowds and soldiers shook and even intimi-
dated the famous orator; we can get a clear sense of what he had wanted
to say on Milo’s behalf in the version of the defense speech later published,
regarded as the best one Cicero ever composed. Most likely, Milo had no
chance of acquittal; Pompey evidently intended to make an example of him,
as a sacrifice to Clodius’s supporters and as a deterrent to further gang ac-
tivities. Convicted and sentenced to exile, Milo chose to settle in the harbor
town of Massilia, today’s Marseille in southern France, where he apparently
enjoyed his life of luxury immensely.
Despite this “happy” ending, many people in Rome regarded Milo’s fall
as a demonstration of overweening power on the part of Pompey and those
Optimates backing him at the time. Then, as tensions began to rise be-
tween Pompey and Caesar, many began to worry that the same fate would
befall the latter if he followed the demands of the Optimates who insisted
on his return from Gaul as a private citizen. Caesar seems to have feared be-
coming “another Milo,” too, at least according to his friend, the historian
Asinius Pollio; in his Histories, he recorded that, at the Battle of Pharsalus
in Greece, though Caesar grieved over the deaths of so many of Pompey’s
senatorial supporters, nonetheless he blamed them (Hoc voluerunt—“They
wanted this”) for forcing him into military action, since they sought to de-
stroy him as a private citizen in the supposedly just courts.
To backtrack a bit, when Civil War broke out between Pompey and Cae-
sar, Milo at first played no active part. Nevertheless, Caesar did not allow
him to return from his exile for reasons unclear, but perhaps connected to
an odd sense of devotion on Caesar’s part to the memory of his old hench-
man Clodius. Within a year, however, Milo was summoned home by his
old friend Caelius Rufus, then praetor; Caelius had been attempting several
schemes to relieve debtors and renters of their financial burdens, appar-
ently to make a name for himself and win over a popular following, while
his colleagues and other senatorial officials had repeatedly shut his attempts
553
down. In desperation for support and evidently hoping to restore his honor
through a violent attack against the state, he called on Milo to return to
Rome; he knew that Milo still owned gladiators who formerly had been
part of his political gang. Milo arrived and Caelius sent him to southern
Italy to rouse poor citizens there in an uprising, while Milo’s gladiators
prepared to take action in the town of Naples. Not long after, Pompey’s
confidential messenger, Vibullius Rufus, enlisted Milo to join the Civil War
on Pompey’s side and especially to continue his efforts to foment a popular
rebellion in Italy against Caesar. These efforts ended ingloriously, though,
with Milo’s death in an attack on a central Italian town loyal to Caesar; as
for Caelius, Caesar’s Spanish cavalry later executed him.
The motives for the political activities of Milo, like those of his rival
Clodius, cannot be clearly defined along partisan lines. They each took ad-
vantage of large-scale violence engendered by the Triumvirs to satisfy their
own purposes and ambitions. In Milo’s case, in particular, as Cicero once
remarked, he was the sort of man who did not take advice from others (in-
cluding the Triumvirs), since they might envy or betray him, and did not
follow the directives of the traditional aristocracy, who did not have the
guts to do the necessary.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Gangs;
Triumvirate
Further Reading
lishing.
Publishing.

In Caesar’s day, the Roman Empire waged its third and last war against
Mithradates VI Eupator, King of Pontus (modern northeastern Turkey).
The inhabitants of Pontus were of mixed ethnicity, but largely related to
the ancient Persians; their land, quite rich in raw materials and very agri-
culturally productive, had been tied in to the Greek network of trade for
generations.
554
Mithradates’s father of the same name had encouraged Hellenization

(the adoption of Greek customs) in his kingdom, which brought him closer
to Greek communities as well as the Roman elite, who had also become
very Hellenized. Roman interests in Asia Minor were on the rise at that
time (mid-second century BCE), since they had accepted the bequest of
King Attalus III, who left his entire kingdom of Pergamum (roughly west-
ern Turkey today) to the Roman Empire on his death in 133 BCE; the
Romans absorbed this territory as the province they called Asia. Until his
death in 120 BCE, Mithradates V served Rome as a loyal friend and ally in
the region, which was not an easy thing to do, since he also hoped to en-
large his realm through the conquest of neighboring kingdoms, which had
also become friends of Rome. The Romans did not usually approve of some
allies expanding their territory at the expense of other allies.
Mithradates VI would not let this stand in his way. Styling himself some-
times as a new Hercules, sometimes as a new Alexander the Great, he began
by extending his sway over the eastern and northern shores of the Black Sea
as far west as the Danube, and over the kingdoms of Asia Minor, especially
Cappadocia, where his sister was queen, and Paphlagonia, where he and his
ally, Nicomedes III Euergetes of Bithynia, had joint designs. No less than
five times did Mithradates attempt to gain direct control of Cappadocia and
Paphlagonia before 90 BCE. The Romans continued to halt him through di-
plomacy and military threats, not wanting to see Pontus, or Bithynia, grow
too large.
Nevertheless, Mithradates paved the way for the invasion and occupation
of Cappadocia by ousting his own nephew there; he even did the same in
Bithynia, forcing Nicomedes IV Philopator, the son of his “friend” Nico-
medes III, to flee to the Roman province of Asia for his life. In spring 89
BCE, an official senatorial delegation arranged with Mithradates to leave
both kingdoms alone, and he assured the envoys of his continued friend-
ship with Rome. But the leader of the embassy, M.’ Aquilius, and perhaps
others, saw an opportunity to pit Nicomedes IV against Mithradates, to
use him as a pawn and fight a proxy war against the Kingdom of Pontus
so the Romans would not have to. Aquilius instigated the Bithynian king
into doing this by promising to pay the latter’s huge debts in return. Al-
ready fifteen years earlier, Nicomedes III had accused the Roman publicani,
the businessmen who handled government contracts for Rome, of virtually
forcing his people into slavery through crooked business deals; the Senate
had cracked down on the publicani in response to the king’s pleas for help,
but the publicani fought back in the Roman law courts, destroying the ca-
reer of at least one senator for his role in the crackdown. By the time Aq-
uilius approached Nicomedes IV, the Bithynian kingdom and people were
once again in desperate straits, in the financial strangle-hold of bankers and
businessmen from Italy.
555
Not surprisingly, Nicomedes obeyed the Roman “advice” and Bithyn-

ian forces invaded Pontus in the summer of 89 BCE. Mithradates’s appeals
to Rome for intervention fell on intransigent ears. The latter felt there was
nothing to do but fight back militarily, and thus the so-called First Mithra-
datic War began; the Romans could claim (and did) that Mithradates was
up to his old tricks of expansionism. But this time he went further than just
invading Bithynia and the territories of other neighboring hostile kings; he
also sent his troops into the Roman province of Asia itself, since he recog-
nized the Romans’ influence behind Nicomedes’s unprovoked attack.
This stunned the Roman government, especially since most of the Sen-
ate had no notion that Aquilius had instigated the war between Bithynia
and Pontus. There was little the Senate could do at first, however, since
they were fully engaged in a problem at home; most of Rome’s allies in the
Italian Peninsula had risen up against the empire in a revolution of their
own, which we call the Social War (91–87 BCE). All the Senate and People
of Rome could do was declare war against Mithradates and assign the com-
mand of that war to one of the consuls of 88, L. Cornelius Sulla; he and his
army could not be spared, however, until the Social War had been reduced
sufficiently.
Of course, this civil war between the Romans and their Italian allies,
which Mithradates knew about full well, gave him a perfect opportunity
not only to seek vengeance against the Bithynians and Romans but also to
potentially increase his sway over all Asia Minor. His army was very experi-
enced and his fleet the strongest in the region. Sweeping through Bithynia
and Cappadocia with ease, and then into the province of Asia, his troops
captured Aquilius and executed him in the fashion of poetic justice; he had
hoped to become wealthy off a war with Pontus, now the Pontine forces
made him very wealthy indeed, by pouring molten gold down his throat.
Mithradates soon discovered that thousands of Rome’s allies, not only
in Asia Minor but also in Greece (most famously in Athens), which the Ro-
mans had firmly controlled for over fifty years, were willing and in fact eager
to join his side; no wonder his ships sped across the Aegean Sea to gain the
mastery there. Some of this may be attributed to local fear of Mithradates’s
forces, but it cannot be doubted that he became, overnight, the leader of a
massive popular revolution against the empire’s high-handed military per-
sonnel, rapacious business interests, and crushing taxes. When Mithradates
ordered that the revolutionaries in Greece and Asia Minor round up and
execute every Roman or Italian living in their midst, practically every com-
munity complied: 80,000 were killed, especially thousands of moneylend-
ers and tax collectors on the island of Delos, where the Romans and Italians
had a substantial settlement built on the trade in debt-slaves.
Not until early in 87 BCE did Roman forces arrive in the area to do any-
thing about all this. By the end of that year, the superiority of Roman
556
troops and tactics under Sulla as proconsul allowed the reconquest of most
of Greece. The opposing armies, especially the Romans, devastated much
of central Greece, leaving it in ruins; the Romans looted temple treasures
mercilessly. The holdouts in Athens suffered a devastating siege until spring
of the following year, ending in the vicious Roman sacking of the city and
massacre of thousands there.
In the summer and again in the autumn of that same year, Sulla de-
feated Mithradates’s best troops and best generals in two major engage-
ments, one at Chaeronea, the other at Orchomenos; the latter was so
exceptionally bloody that debris left from it could still be seen on the
field of battle 200 years later. Sulla’s proquaestor, L. Licinius Lucullus,
had meanwhile gathered together a fleet, which countered, to a certain
extent, Mithradates’s in the Aegean. Just as serious for Mithradates, and
perhaps more so, were the contemporary victories of the Roman general
Fimbria, who had been dispatched by Sulla’s political opponents in Rome
to steal the glory of this war from him and had been operating indepen-
dently in Asia Minor itself; indeed, Fimbria had not only restored the
kingdoms and province there to Roman control but had also almost cap-
tured Mithradates himself.
Understanding the political rivalry between Fimbria and Sulla, Mithra-
dates hoped to divide the Roman momentum by opening negotiations with
the latter; Sulla decided to cross over into Asia Minor when the king hes-
itated to accept the proconsul’s proposed terms for peace. Then, when
Mithradates and Sulla met for the first time face to face, the king finally
agreed to the terms: to give up all conquered lands, part of his fleet, and
pay a war indemnity. The king got off easy: the rebellious towns of Asia
were forced to quarter Roman troops and to pay a huge war indemnity, ten
times larger than that imposed on the king; they borrowed the money for
this mainly from Roman businessmen and bankers, who now returned to
the region for wholesale loan sharking.
Despite Sulla’s agreement with the king of Pontus, he left L. Licinius
Murena in Asia to keep a sharp eye on him; Murena, in fact, soon reignited
the conflict against Mithradates in the so-called Second Mithradatic War.
From 83 to 81 BCE, he conducted a number of skirmishes with the remain-
ing Pontic forces in Asia Minor, amounting to a stalemate between the two
sides. He and his men were recalled to Italy by Sulla, who had defeated his
rivals there and had become dictator.
It seems from this time that the Roman governors in the province of
Asia and especially in the expanded province of Cilicia (roughly the south-
ern coast of Turkey) officially ratcheted up their involvement in support-
ing the security of the allied kingdoms of Cappadocia and Galatia; also,
there seems to have been no official treaty concluded with Mithradates by
the Senate. He knew all of this meant that he had to be always prepared
557
for another confrontation with the Romans. He was not innocent in this,
of course, because he still had expansionist dreams, contrary to Roman
foreign policy.
Two other important figures of the time encouraged those expansion-
ist dreams. One was Sertorius, a politician from Rome, who had gained
control of the Spanish provinces in opposition to Sulla the dictator and his
crony Senate; fighting for his life against the pro-Sullan generals, Q. Me-
tellus Pius and Pompey, Sertorius (until his assassination in 73 BCE) allied
with Mithradates, urging him to expand his power in the East, thus creat-
ing a war on two fronts with their mutual opponents in Rome. The other
was Mithradates’s own son-in-law, Tigranes II, king of Armenia, who, con-
trary to Roman hopes, had already enlarged his own territory by annexing
Syria and Phoenicia from the dying Seleucid Kingdom. When Nicomedes
IV of Bithynia passed away in 75 BCE, bequeathing his entire kingdom to
Rome, Tigranes supported Mithradates in his attempt to prevent this by
military means. Pontic land and sea forces invaded Bithynia. The Third
Mithradatic War began.
Rome almost immediately sent the consul L. Licinius Lucullus as
combined governor of Asia and Cilicia and supreme commander of all
Roman forces against Mithradates, whose troops, including his fleet,
were forced out of Bithynia with heavy losses. By 72 BCE, Roman forces
had invaded Pontus itself and forced the king to seek refuge in Armenia.
That was no safe haven, however, because the Roman soldiers entered
Armenia also, defeated Tigranes’s army, and took his capital, Tigrano-
certa, in 69 BCE.
If it had not been for the uprising of Lucullus’s own troops against him
in 68 BCE, the war against Mithradates might have been wrapped up with
the conquest of the Armenians. Instead, the Roman war machine ground
to a halt, and Lucullus retreated from conquered territory and was recalled
to Rome; Mithradates and Tigranes regrouped. The conclusion to this war
would have to wait for the arrival of a new commander, Pompey.
Pompey allied with the Parthian Empire against Tigranes; under both
Roman and Parthian pressure, Tigranes was eventually persuaded to
betray his father-in-law and become an ally of Rome to retain his own
throne. Pompey led the Roman army in a new invasion of Pontus in 65
BCE, and Mithradates fled in despair to the Crimea. Pompey annexed a
portion of Pontus, adding it to the Roman province of Bithynia, and
encouraged Mithradates’s own son, Pharnaces, to claim the remainder
for himself, thereby launching a military rebellion against his own father.
Trapping Mithradates at Panticapeum in 63 BCE, Pharnaces left his father
little choice but to commit suicide there with the help of one of his body-
guards.
558
Mourning/Funerals
Mithradates’s never-ending expansionism cost him his life, brought

widespread devastation to the region of Greece and Asia Minor, and gave
ambitious Roman commanders, like Pompey, the pretext they needed to
expand Roman power fully into the Eastern Mediterranean. It also fueled
the desires of other powerful Roman leaders (i.e., Crassus and especially
Caesar) to find (or if not, to create) similar opportunities for empire-building
elsewhere.
See also: Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Parthia; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Provinces; Slavery/Slaves; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
McGing, B. 1986. The Foreign Policy of Mithridates VI Eupator. Leiden, The Neth-
erlands: Brill Publishers.
Mayor, A. 2011. The Poison King: The Life and Legend of Mithradates, Rome’s
Deadliest Enemy. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Money. See Coinage/Money

Mourning/Funerals
Romans considered death to be a stain on the family, highly contagious to
it and the community at large. So, they sought to strictly separate the living
and the dead by ritual. Correct procedures of mourning and placation were
followed to ease the soul of the dead person out of the realm of the living
and into the next realm of existence.
Rituals of mourning and funerals varied with the status and reputation
of the deceased. Children who had died before their first birthday, for ex-
ample, received simple, quiet burials; the very poor were laid to rest with-
out any ceremony, just as masters usually did with their slaves. For all other
Roman citizens, it seems that funeral rituals lasted eight days. These started
with the laying in state at the family’s home and ended with interment of
some sort at the burial site.
During the laying in state, a member of the deceased’s family, usually the
eldest son, would attempt to ritually awaken the corpse, to prove that he
or she was dead. Afterward, the body was washed and anointed with oil or
perfume, dressed in the deceased’s best clothes, laid out on a funeral couch
in the family atrium, and surrounded by flowers and incense; all this might
be done by close relations or paid professional undertakers. At the end of
the eight days of viewing, family members and friends carried the body in
a very emotional procession (Romans had no qualms about floods of tears
559
Mourning/Funerals
One of two Roman mausolea in the area known as Los Columbarios on the outskirts
of the ancient city of Emerita Augusta (modern Merida, Spain). Inscriptions on the
two structures (called columbaria in Latin because they housed funeral urns in
pigeon-hole spaces) identify them as having belonged, respectively, to the Voconius
family and the Julius family. This latter must have consisted of indigenous people who
had received Roman citizenship under the sponsorship of either Caesar himself or the
Roman emperors after him, and thus received the family name of the Caesars.
(García Juan/Dreamstime.com)
and shrieking wails of sorrow in this public display of grief) through the
streets to its final resting place. In the procession, there would be musicians
(usually flute players) and perhaps even professional mourners (praeficiae);
these hired individuals, almost in a kind of musical dialogue, sang praises
for the deceased and the dirge (nenia) over the body from the time it was
laid in state to the time it was interred. Torch bearers also attended the
procession, even in the last century of the Republic, when it was no longer
traditional, as it had been before, to conduct all burials at night.
The best-known examples of these funeral rituals come from the Roman
elite. Pallbearers carried the bodies of such notable Romans, sometimes in
an upright position instead of reclined, to the Rostra in the Forum Roma-
num, accompanied by a long procession of family members and onlook-
ers. Among these were certain males selected because of their physique and
height to represent great men of the family’s past. Thus, the funerary ritual
was intended not just to mourn the recently deceased but also to honor and
remember famous members of his family who had passed away before him.
The “actors” put on clothing appropriate to those figures and, in front of
560
Mourning/Funerals
their own faces, held wax masks (imagines) molded in the image of those
great men. If such relatives had been high-ranking magistrates of the Re-
public, the “actors” in the procession accordingly rode in chariots preceded
by attendants carrying fasces and other symbols of public authority and sat
on the curule chairs of high office when they arrived at the Rostra.
Once the procession reached the Rostra, the son or some other male rela-
tive of the recently deceased man then ascended the platform, which would
have been surrounded by a large crowd of people, and pronounced the
laudatio funebris, the funeral oration that set out the virtues and achieve-
ments of the deceased. He also included in his address the exploits of the
men represented by the imagines, beginning with the oldest and proceed-
ing through all the rest. In this way, the speaker preserved the fame and ex-
amples of all those men, and often also encouraged the younger generation
to imitate them. The prominent families of Rome often preserved these
speeches in writing, which provided valuable information for ancient histo-
rians.
Interestingly, much of this customary pomp and ceremony was either
modified or omitted in the funeral of Julius Caesar. There was no laying in
state at his home; instead, his body seems to have been laid out for people
to visit on the Campus Martius. More typical was presentation of funeral
gifts (unidentified but probably easily flammable) by large numbers of peo-
ple who came to pay their respects, and the staging of Latin plays by his
friends, also on the Campus Martius, with themes appropriate to the occa-
sion, including Pacuvius’s “Contest for the Arms of Achilles” and Atilius’s
“Electra.” The traditional procession into the Forum Romanum took place
in a unique fashion, not so much because the pallbearers were former and
current magistrates, as much as because the funeral couch carrying Caesar’s
body was made of ivory, spread over with precious gold and purple cloth,
and had attached to it a projection from which hung Caesar’s toga, riddled
with the stab cuts and blood of his assassination. Surprisingly, there is no
mention in the sources of men wearing imagines to honor Caesar’s ancestors
in this procession, though some of the professional mourners were wearing
Caesar’s own ceremonial robes, and, as noted elsewhere in the section on eu-
logies, Marc Antony did not really deliver one, as many must have expected.
Traditionally, and as a point of Roman law, once the eulogistic oration
was done with, the pallbearers and procession brought the body outside
the sacred city limits (pomerium) of Rome to its burial site, often along
the major roads. The deceased was thus separated spatially from the main
zone of the living yet still within view of passers-by. In Caesar’s time, the
body would have either been placed in a stone sarcophagus or more likely
cremated on a funeral pyre, the ashes in that case deposited in a stone urn.
The choice depended on the deceased’s preference or the tradition of his
family or the expenses involved, though cremation was clearly most popular
561
Mourning/Funerals
during the Republic, also probably the result of a heightened sense at the
time of the hygienic benefits of cremation among overcrowded populations
(as in Rome itself).
Roman custom dictated that the assembled mourners be sprinkled
with water as an act of purification and separation from the pollution
of death and sacrifice a pig on or near the place where the remains of
the deceased were interred to consecrate the site. They then ate food
together there, often a meal of lentils and salt, some of which was also
offered as a placation to the spirit of the deceased. On returning there,
the family purified their home by an offering to the protective spirits, the
Lares familiares.
Evidence suggests that Caesar himself had, somewhere in his will, speci-
fied cremation upon his death. His friends had prepared a funeral pyre for
him on the Campus Martius, not far from his daughter Julia’s tomb.
Whereas the corpses of the friendless poor Romans ended up in the mass
graves (puticuli) of the Esquiline Hill, Romans of the upper class typi-
cally had elaborate, well-decorated family tombs or mausolea constructed
for them, with either large spaces for their stone caskets or small niches
for their urns. Romans of modest means might try to copy these if they
could afford to or join a mutual burial society (collegium funebris) to in-
vest in a communal tomb. Almost all burial places were marked off by
cypress trees.
Without precise information, we can only speculate on the nature of Ju-
lia’s tomb, whether it had been built just for her or held also the remains of
her mother and perhaps had a space for Caesar, too. It was already unusual
that her remains were interred on the Campus Martius, a place reserved for
military heroes, but this had been the work primarily of the Roman peo-
ple, crowds of whom insisted, despite the objections of plebeian tribunes,
on burying the daughter of Caesar and wife of Pompey in such hallowed
ground. The spot for Caesar’s pyre had been selected especially to be close
to Julia’s resting place, so we can assume that either Caesar would have
been interred there also or in a building nearby.
Things did not go as planned. After a few words from Marc Antony,
an argument broke out in the Forum, how we do not know, about where
to cremate Caesar, the top choices being the Temple of Jupiter up on the
Capitoline Hill or the Curia of Pompey, where Caesar had been killed.
Someone (divine beings according to certain authors) suddenly set fire to
the ivory funeral couch, and hundreds of spectators helped the fire along
by collecting any flammable and portable objects in the Forum and throw-
ing them on the blaze. The professional mourners threw off Caesar’s robes
and onto the fire, his veterans in attendance tossed in their weapons, and
women their jewelry as well. Whether Caesar’s ashes were interred in Julia’s
tomb or one of his own remains a mystery.
562
Mourning/Funerals
Even after funeral and interment, Romans continued to mourn in par-

ticular, formal ways for those closest to them, sometimes for as long as ten
months, as well as for those who deserved special respect. For instance, to
honor the memories of his legate, Titurius Sabinus, and the many soldiers
who had perished with him in Gaul, Caesar refused to cut his hair and grew
out his beard as visible symbols of grief until he had successfully avenged
their deaths. Such behavior was traditional among the Romans; Octavian
later did the same until he eliminated those who had assassinated his adop-
tive father Caesar. After the Senate and People of Rome erected a marble
column on the spot of Caesar’s cremation in the Forum Romanum, citizens
came there for many years to offer sacrifices in his honor and to remember
him in their vows and oaths.
Proper ritual and burial assured that the spirit (anima) of the deceased
would be admitted into the next plane of existence, that of the Di Manes,
the ancestral life-forces that lived peacefully, Romans believed, outside of
town in their own sanctified spaces (cemeteries). Caesar made sure that
Pompey, who had been beheaded at the orders of the Egyptian king, re-
ceived such treatment, ordering his soldiers to bring the head and body
back together, perform the proper rituals, and send the cremated remains
to Pompey’s wife in Italy for interment on one of their country estates. On
the other hand, about four years earlier, when the body of their rebellious
henchman, Clodius, had been thrown into the Senate house by his own
followers and cremated there, basically in a popular riot, the orator Cicero
asserted that it was the will of the gods, who had rejected Clodius’s entry
among the Di Manes. Even Cicero, though, despite his bitter animosity
toward Clodius, could not believe how shamefully the latter’s corpse had
been treated, so contrary to Roman taboos.
Private individuals and families honored the Di Manes with offerings
of various kinds (usually food) on the birthday of the deceased and at
the Parentalia festival in mid-February; this was considered so important
by the Romans that their magistrates took off working and temples were
closed all the days of the festival. It concluded on the ninth day with the
Feralia, a public ceremony of remembrance about which no details are
preserved. In March, the Violaria festival saw relatives place violets at the
graves of their loved ones; in May, the Rosaria festival saw the same, only
with roses.
Without proper ritual and burial, the spirits of the deceased would remain
among the living as lemures, anonymous, unhappy, haunting ghosts. Even
for them, the Romans developed the private, midnight rituals of placation
called the Lemuria, held on three non-sequential days in the month of May.
In addition, for those whose bodies were for whatever reason unrecoverable
(e.g., those lost at sea), certain rituals were still performed to placate their
ghosts, a marker erected perhaps, sometimes even an empty tomb.
563
See also: Campus Martius; Capitoline Hill; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Divus Iulius; Eulogies/Imagines; Forum Roma-
num; Julia (d. 54 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion, Roman; Theater
of Pompey
Further Reading
Morris, I. 1992. Death-Ritual and Social Structure in Classical Antiquity. Cam-
Toynbee, J. 1971. Death and Burial in the Roman World. Baltimore: Johns Hop-

Ancient authors located the site of the battle between Caesar and the sons
of his old rival Pompey at the town of Munda (modern Montilla) in south-
ern Spain. Modern scholars have debated, without coming to consensus,
whether the battle in fact took place there or at other proposed locations
in the valley of the Baetis River (modern Guadalquivir). Regardless of the
exact spot, the Battle of Munda was the last major event of the Civil War
between the Caesarians and Pompeians, perhaps the most terrifying en-
counter that had taken place in that war, and opened a new, though brief,
chapter in Caesar’s career where he was both the most powerful Roman
and the most feared.
During more than three years of Civil War, Caesar had spared the lives
of hundreds of Pompey’s supporters, after having defeated them in com-
bat. Still there were many of those who would not be truly reconciled to
him, and many joined the cause of Caesar’s inveterate enemies, the sons of
Pompey, Cnaeus Pompeius and Sextus Pompeius. Both of them bold and
fearless, they had stood by their father from the start of the conflict; the
elder, Cnaeus, had commanded a fleet against Caesar early in the war. After
their father’s defeat in Greece and murder in Egypt, the two brothers made
their way separately first to Africa, in support of Pompey’s comrades there,
and then to Spain; in both places, Cnaeus and Sextus contributed to the ef-
forts of resistance against Caesar. Assisted by the latter’s former legate, La-
bienus, they eventually raised thirteen legions in Further (southern) Spain,
not only from local populations, many of whom owed gratitude to their fa-
ther for his long years of patronage, but also from other Romans spared by
Caesar or having, like themselves, eluded Caesar’s grasp. The elder brother,
Cnaeus, held command, and he made sure that every community complied
with his wishes; he brooked no insubordination or neutrality, revealing a
cruel side reminiscent of his father in the very early years of his military
564
career. In this way, Pompey the Younger alienated a number of towns, and
these sent word to Rome, calling on help from Caesar.
Caesar had not been sure what the sons of Pompey had in mind by seiz-
ing control of the province of Further Spain, but he had assumed they in-
tended an attack against him in Italy. To forestall this, and with the cries
for help coming from the provincial peoples themselves, he chose to leave
Rome for Spain and so, as was his habit, take the fight to the Pompeians.
His own legates in the province, Pedius and Fabius Maximus, seemed in-
capable of making any headway against the enemy; Caesar realized that he
needed to conduct the operations himself.
Within a month, he arrived (near the end of 46 BCE), finding Sextus in
charge of the provincial capital of Corduba (modern Córdova) and Cnaeus
making an assault on the resistant town of Ulia (modern Montemayor);
from both places, Caesar received pleas for assistance. He dispatched a relief
force to the people of Ulia and made a direct attack on Sextus’s garrison at
Corduba. The latter suffered so severely in the engagement that their com-
mander sent word to his brother for help. Cnaeus broke off his own opera-
tions at Ulia to provide help.
When Cnaeus arrived at Corduba, his forces contested each day with
Caesar’s over control of the bridge that crossed from the town to the other
side of the River Baetis. The tight space and determination of both armies
meant corpses were piled on corpses in fighting on the bridge, around the
bridge, and even in the river itself. Anxious about the outcome of such a war
of attrition in the midst of the Spanish winter, Caesar tried to force the Pom-
peians into an open-field battle. He withdrew his army southeastward to the
town of Ategua, the most important Pompeian stronghold, in hopes of lur-
ing Cnaeus’s army after him. The latter arrived and slaughtered a large num-
ber of Caesar’s cavalry, easily surrounded and disoriented as they were in a
thick morning fog. Despite possessing the advantages of surprise and having
drawn first blood so effectively, and the apparent advantage also of com-
manding such a large force, Cnaeus nevertheless felt unsure about most of
his men, only two legions of which he thought he could count on. Instead
of giving battle in the rugged terrain around Ategua, he fortified a position
on the high ground and waited a while. His men did conduct a midnight
raid on one of Caesar’s positions; having started well for them, this ended
badly, and Cnaeus decided to abandon camp and return to Corduba.
By this time, Caesar’s army had received substantial reinforcements of
cavalry from Italy and auxiliaries from other parts of Spain. Some of these
pursued Cnaeus’s troops, interfering with their supply lines especially.
Meanwhile, Caesar’s siege of Ategua continued, with some of the defend-
ers deserting to his side but most of them putting up a staunch resistance
against him by launching fiery missiles into his siege works and, every so
often, courageous sorties from the gates of the town into the midst of his
565
troops. In spite of the harassment by Caesar’s cavalry, Cnaeus gradually

brought his main army back into the environs of Ategua, carefully moving
forward from camp to camp, and encouraged his garrison within the town
to make a break for it; he awaited their arrival at a safe distance. Caesar’s
troops stopped them in a desperate encounter amid the siege works. After
several more days of assault and counterassault, and attempts at a negoti-
ated surrender on the part of the garrison as well as the townspeople, Caesar
agreed to spare their lives. He took possession of Ategua on February 19.
Cnaeus had, as a consequence of these developments, moved southward
toward the town of Urso (modern Osuna), where he seems to have had
considerable local support; Caesar’s army pursued. Between the two forces,
skirmishes of great violence daily occurred. Cnaeus apparently felt very
confident after all these that his men were ready for an open showdown
with Caesar’s. So, on March 17, 45 BCE, he stationed his thirteen legions,
flanked on right and left by cavalry and auxiliaries, on the high ground out-
side the walls of Munda, looking down into the wide plain at the army of
Caesar.
The latter advanced deliberately until reaching the sloping and difficult
terrain, when Caesar ordered a halt; the Pompeians regarded this as an act
of fear and finally poured down on top of their enemies. Caesar had under
his command about eight legions, but many of the soldiers were fairly fresh
recruits. Indeed, according to Caesar’s biographer Plutarch, there was a
point in the fighting when Caesar actually feared that his men might be
pushed back by their opponents and his own life lost because of their shaky
behavior. He did everything he could to rally his forces, dashing among
them, bolstering their resolve, and especially shaming them by accusing
that they seemed ready to simply hand him over to his enemies, whom he
characterized as just kids (Cnaeus Pompeius was, after all, only thirty-four
and Sextus twenty-two years old).
Caesar certainly considered the Battle of Munda a fight for his life, and
clearly, the sons of Pompey felt the same for their own and for their father’s
cause. After an incessant, gory contest, the Pompeians were literally anni-
hilated by the merciless Caesarian forces, who slaughtered some 30,000 of
their opponents. Many of the survivors retreated into Munda, which suf-
fered an assault by Caesar’s troops, who stood atop piles of enemy corpses
to hurl their weapons against the town’s defenders. Other Pompeians made
their way to Corduba, where they also fought back against Caesar’s forces.
In the midst of all this, Cnaeus Pompeius escaped to the coast, where he
was at first assisted and then betrayed by the people of Carteia; fleeing
from pursuers of all kinds, he was captured by Caesar’s soldiers three weeks
after the Battle of Munda and was beheaded. His brother Sextus survived,
though, having fled from Corduba, and indeed would continue to mount
resistance against Caesar, but that was for another time.
566
The three or four months of fighting in Spain that culminated in the

Battle of Munda witnessed more atrocities on both sides than had ever oc-
curred in a Roman Civil War: prisoners of war were summarily executed;
messengers’ hands were cut off; civilians’ throats were slit, heads were cut
off, and bodies were hurled from the walls of besieged towns; soldiers were
murdered for their bravery by cowardly comrades; mercy was purchased
at the price of completing impossible suicide missions; local populations
slaughtered each other to seize control of their towns in the interest of one
side or the other, or towns were destroyed by Roman forces to leave no
base for their adversaries. Most unusual of all was when Romans impaled
the heads of enemy Romans on their swords to terrorize resisters.
After settling matters in Spain, Caesar returned to Rome in October of
the same year, now the undisputed master of the Roman world, or so it ap-
peared. Caesar’s dispatch to the Senate announcing his victory and the later
triumph in celebration of it were both quite distasteful, not only to many
leading citizens of Rome but also to many in the general population. Even
more, the announcement, the triumph, and the incredible brutality before,
during, and after the Battle of Munda created a new impression of Caesar,
ruthless, tactless, threatening, all of which contributed to the conspiracy
later launched against his life.
See also: Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Sextus Pompey (67–
35 BCE); Spain
Further Reading
Gelzer, M. 1968. Caesar: Politician and Statesman. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Pub-
lishing.
Press.
York: Penguin.
567
N
Names
Names
Since the family, not the individual, was regarded as the building block of
Roman society, that is, since Rome was seen as a collective formed by fami-
lies rather than as a collection of individual men and women, it should not
surprise us that the Roman system of naming focused on the family as well.
In fact, the Romans were so group-oriented that even the family took a
back seat in this process to the clan (gens), a set of families linked together
by descent from a common ancestor. That is why, when the Jews of ancient
times came to know the Romans, they referred to them as Gentiles, a term
which they later applied, imprecisely, to all non-Jews.
A Roman male identified himself first and foremost by the name of his
clan, the nomen gentilicium. The nomen was handed down through gen-
erations of ancestry, giving the clan a sort of immortality through its many
members. The nomina (plural) of certain clans heralded their lineage back
to the very beginnings of Rome as a little village in the eighth century BCE,
while those of others helped keep alive the memory of how their ances-
tors joined the Roman community later on. Though most Roman nomina
ended in the suffix -ius, some nomina preserved a reminder of a clan’s point
of origin outside of Rome through peculiar endings, such as -na for those
with Etruscan ancestry or -ienus for those from Umbria. Nomina also in-
dicated the status of one’s clan within Roman society. There were patrician
clans, aristocrats with the oldest pedigrees in Rome, like the gens Sergia
(the clan to which the infamous rebel Catiline belonged), or the gens Cor-
nelia (to which Caesar’s first wife belonged), or the gens Servilia (to which
his long-time lover belonged), or the gens Julia (the clan to which Julius
Caesar himself belonged). Non-patrician citizens belonged to the plebe-
ian clans of Rome, such as the gens Licinia (to which Caesar’s associate
Crassus belonged), or the gens Pompeia (to which his chief rival, Pompey,
belonged), or the gens Octavia (clan of the first emperor Augustus, great-
nephew of Caesar). Some plebeian clans in fact developed out of patrician
ones, so that there existed both patrician and plebeian branches with no
difference in clan name (e.g., in the gens Antonia), but usually such a dif-
ference did take place (e.g., in the patrician gens Claudia, out of which a
plebeian gens Clodia emerged). For the most part, patricians and plebeians
could identify their respective statuses, right down to the end of the Repub-
lic in the first century BCE, simply by reference to the nomen.
To distinguish families within clans, the Romans eventually developed
the “additional name” or cognomen. Cognomina (plural) might refer to
physical characteristics prominent in a family, such as the cognomen Cicero,
from the Latin word cicer, meaning garbanzo bean (apparently because of
the typical shape of the head in that family). They might also come from
mental traits or personality; the cognomen Cato derived from the Latin word
571
Names
catus, meaning clever or wise, while the cognomen Caesar related to a word
for bushy hair, caesaries. These are just a few examples; the possibilities for
family names were quite considerable and give us insight into what Romans
praised as well as ridiculed in their family ancestry. Finally, the Senate and
People of Rome might confer a cognomen on a military commander, a hero
from a great campaign, which then his descendants would inherit; perhaps
most famously, Scipio, the Roman general who finally defeated Hannibal
of Carthage in the late third century BCE, received the honorary cognomen,
“Africanus,” conqueror of Africa. By the end of the Republic, some clans
had grown so extensively that a single cognomen did not even suffice to dis-
tinguish one family line from another within the clan; in such cases, a fam-
ily would add a second or even third cognomen (as in the case of the above
Scipio’s cousin and son-in-law, Cornelius Scipio Nasica Corculum).
Romans practiced adoption frequently to shore up membership of a fam-
ily due to the ravages of war and disease, and this led to changes in one’s
nomen and cognomen. As an illustration, when Julius Caesar adopted his
great-nephew, Octavius, as his own son and heir, Octavius officially took
on the nomen, Julius, and the cognomen, Caesar, of his adoptive father, be-
coming Julius Caesar Octavianus; his original clan name was converted into
an extra cognomen, ending in the special suffix -ianus to demonstrate the
point.
As seen above, Julius was not Caesar’s first name, but rather the form of
the nomen borne by all the clan’s male members (and there were many of
them), just as Julia, the name of his daughter (and sister and aunt) was not
a first name either, but the form of the nomen borne by all the clan’s female
members. In the same way, Caesar was not a personal name either, but a
name borne by all the male members of the Caesar family branch of the
Julius clan. The man whom we call today Julius Caesar had the first name
of Caius or Gaius (apparently pronounced both ways in ancient times), ab-
breviated by the letter “C” in Latin texts. A man’s close relations and inti-
mate friends were allowed to call him by this praenomen (except in public
speaking or letters), as were even slaves when addressing their male masters.
By Caesar’s time, only about fifteen personal names of this kind were in
regular use, far fewer than are available in modern societies; these praeno-
mina derived originally from characteristic features of a child’s birth (e.g.,
place in the line of children or time of day) or reverence for a divinity, but
over the generations, lost such original significance. They still distinguished
individual males within a family and clan, of course, but, more importantly,
became a badge of membership in one’s clan or family. For instance, some
clans had the tradition of using only a particular set of praenomina across
centuries of time; some families regularly repeated a praenomen only in al-
ternate generations; and some families named every first-born male, gener-
ation after generation, with the same praenomen. The latter was the case in
572
Names
Caesar’s immediate family line, where he shared the first name, Caius, with
his father and his grandfather, all three of whom were the only sons, and in
Marc Antony’s family, where he shared the praenomen Marcus (abbreviated
“M”) with his father and grandfather, whereas his younger brothers were
named, respectively, Caius and Lucius (the latter abbreviated “L”).
Roman fathers, who had sole responsibility under the law for giving their
male children praenomina on the dies lustricus (the ninth day after birth),
thus had far less to think about when choosing a name than expectant par-
ents today. Indeed, in the Late Republic, by far the most common praeno-
mina were Caius, Marcus, and Lucius, annoyingly so for modern students
of Latin in their attempts to distinguish a bewildering array of many men
with the same name.
This becomes even more challenging at times when identifying individual
women in Rome, for they, in fact, had only their nomen gentilicium to go
by, and sisters would all be named the same. A family distinguished its girls
by the order of the births. So, Octavian’s two sisters were Octavia Maior
(the Elder) and Octavia Minor (the Younger), while the three daughters
of Caesar’s friend (and sometime lover), Servilia, were Junia Prima (First),
Junia Secunda (Second), and Junia Tertia (Third), the nomen Junia coming
from their father, Junius Silanus. A woman could be addressed by nomen
only (e.g., Octavia) or, in the case of friends and relatives, by the adjectival
addition to her nomen only (e.g., Tertia). Very rarely did women receive
praenomina, and then these were simply feminine forms of those common
among Roman men. A woman might have been distinguished by the cogno-
men of her father, such that the daughter of Caesar might have been called
Julia Caesaris (“of the Caesar family”). What might surprise us today is that
the Romans did not require married women to take the name of their hus-
band, unless they married under the most traditional wedding formalities,
an increasingly rare practice by the Late Republic; thus, married women,
like Julia, retained identification with their family of birth.
For Roman males at least, the tria nomina or three-part name (prae-
nomen, nomen, and cognomen) gave an indication of just how old a lin-
eage one came from; almost without exception, patrician men always had
three names. Plebeian men often possessed only praenomen and nomen,
and often felt less celebrated in terms of social status as a result. No won-
der Pompey, Caesar’s rival, enjoyed so much the addition of the cognomen
“Magnus” (“Great”) to his name.
Brand new citizens from other cultures were granted Roman citizenship
through the efforts of a Roman sponsor and legally acquired the praenomen
and nomen of that sponsor (which is how many Gauls from the region
today known as southern France came to be called Caius Julius from their
enfranchisement at the hands of Julius Caesar in his capacity as dictator).
Similarly, slaves freed by Roman masters also legally adopted their former
573
Navy/Ships
owner’s first name and clan name, adding their original name to these as a
cognomen.
Both the dual and the tripartite name separated Roman men from those
of the other populations they encountered and conquered, whether Greeks,
Jews, Egyptians, Gauls, or what have you. A Roman name thus came to
symbolize a share in Imperial heritage and power for those long-holding
Roman citizenship and an achievement for those outsiders who gained ac-
cess to that citizenship.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE);
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Cornelia (d. 69 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE);
Jews; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Patricians; Plebs; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE)
Further Reading
Gelzer, M. 1969. The Roman Nobility. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing.
Mitchell, R. E. 1992. Patricians and Plebeians: The Origin of the Roman State.
Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
endon Press.
Navy/Ships
The quickest way to get anywhere in the Roman world was by sea; in Cae-
sar’s day, a military vessel could make the trip from Rome to Egypt in only
seven days, for example, whereas it would have taken two months to travel
overland around the eastern Mediterranean. From early on in Rome’s his-
tory, therefore, the government, even though it relied so heavily on infan-
try and cavalry as the main branches of its military apparatus, nevertheless,
appreciated the benefits of sea travel and the necessity of having at the ready
ships for combat. Caesar himself contributed to this by making much use of
navies during his wars in Gaul (roughly modern France) and Britain, as well
as in the Civil War he waged across the empire.
Most ships that crossed the Mediterranean in Roman times were sim-
ple naves, rounded with deeper draft, requiring ballast. Typically, they
were propelled by a square main sail attached to the mast and yard arm
with a triangular topsail above for catching upper-level winds; a small
square foresail was used in maneuvering the vessel, as were the two steer-
ing oars at the rear operated by the helmsman. Many of these ships also
had a simple bank of oars to port and starboard used to propel the ship
along shore.
574
Navy/Ships
Fresco of a naval battle (topped by a theatrical mask and a basket of items used in the
worship of Dionysus), from the House of the Vettii in Pompeii, first century CE. The
vessels depicted are triremes, the most common battleships in Greek and Roman
times. (Photogolfer/Dreamstime.com)
From early in their history, the Romans requisitioned ships from allies
and subject populations. This custom continued throughout the period of
the Republic. For instance, in the aftermath of the Second Mithradatic War
(83–81 BCE), M. Minucius Thermus, governor of the Roman province of
Asia (western-central Turkey today), needed combat ships to punish some
of the coastal and island communities of the eastern Aegean that had co-
operated with King Mithradates against Rome. The governor sought these
ships from the allied kingdom of Bithynia (in what is today’s northwestern
Turkey, along the Black Sea coast). To collect the vessels from King Nico-
medes IV, Thermus sent one of his contubernales, the young aristocrats
who accompanied him to the province and “shared his tent,” that is, lived
and ate with the commander and apprenticed with him in military matters.
When the young man arrived, Nicomedes could not but satisfy his request,
since the king owed his throne to the Romans. This young man was Julius
Caesar, then only around twenty years old, getting his first military experi-
ence in the field and obviously trusted by Governor Thermus with an im-
portant job. The fleet of ships he received from the Bithynian king helped
575
Navy/Ships
the Romans besiege and capture the Greek city of Mytilene on the island
of Lesbos.
During the Republic, as far back as the fourth century BCE, the Romans
also began building their own warships manned by their own sailors (who
served as marines as well). Such military galleys consisted of triremes and
quinqueremes, both of which had been developed by their Greek predeces-
sors. These narrow, shallow-draft vessels, about 100 to 150 feet long, were
designed for speed (e.g., the crew of 170 oarsmen aboard a trireme could
propel the ship at about nine knots) and for forward strength (the stout
wooden framing of the bow was reinforced by a bronze beak or ram); the
quinquereme was also large enough to accommodate a sizable complement
of fighting men, various torsion weapons (like the catapult), and the cor-
vus (a weighted gang-plank developed by the Romans to grab and board
enemy ships). A Roman warship could be propelled, by oars or sail, at the
fastest speed possible in those days, and follow a more or less direct route
across the Mediterranean Sea. In combat, its objective was to render enemy
vessels useless by slicing through their oars and, if needed, penetrating their
hulls by means of quick ramming.
Yet, even in Caesar’s time, two centuries after the first war with the Car-
thaginians, the Romans had no permanent military fleet. Instead, spe-
cifically Roman ships (as opposed to those requisitioned from allies and
subjects) were constructed ad hoc for particular purposes. Caesar’s own
engineering corps became special masters at this.
In 57 BCE, for example, Caesar realized the necessity of having a fleet
to counter the rebellion of the Gallic tribes living along the Atlantic Coast
of what is today Brittany in France; these populations had turned against
the arrangements they had made with Caesar, even taking some of his of-
ficers as hostages. They lived in territory difficult to access over land and,
as master mariners themselves, could be depended upon to re-supply and
reinforce one another by way of the ocean. When Caesar received news of
the situation, he ordered the construction of warships on the banks of the
Loire River, which flows from central France to the Atlantic, and the train-
ing of crews in the region of Provence (what the Romans called Transal-
pine Gaul). Even with such preparations, Caesar himself acknowledged the
weaknesses on the Roman side, especially their unfamiliarity with the ocean
waters and their untested abilities at sea, in comparison with their highly
skilled adversaries. Caesar did have the support of tribes further south along
the coast, and they provided additional ships and more experienced crews.
He placed the combined fleet under the command of Decimus Brutus
Albinus.
Caesar and his commanders noted the differences between the Roman
vessels and those of the enemy, and how those latter were better designed
(flatter at the bottom-front, with tall hulls of much stronger, thicker timbers,
576
Navy/Ships
and sails of animal hide) to handle the heavy waves, tides, and winds off the
Atlantic coast. The ramming capability of the Roman ships was offset by the
thickness of the enemy hulls and the skill of Caesar’s marines at throwing
projectiles useless when aimed upward at high enemy decks. The advan-
tage, as Caesar recorded, possessed by his own ships was the speed noted
above; when combined with specially designed grappling hooks that caught
hold of the enemy’s masts, this speed allowed the disabling of the enemy’s
sails, leaving their vessels dead in the water. Once done, two or three little
Roman warships would surround an enemy vessel and board it; the result-
ing hand-to-hand combat between Gallic sailors and Roman marines ended
over and over again in the victory of the latter. Going back to the days of
the First Punic War, the Romans had always loved turning sea battles into
“land” battles in this way.
Caesar’s naval engineers learned valuable lessons from this campaign
against the Atlantic Gauls. They learned even more from making the cross-
ing from France into Britain, not once but twice in 55 and 54 BCE, respec-
tively. In preparation for the second voyage, for instance, they redesigned
their transport ships to be wider in breadth and shorter in height, for more
rapid loading and unloading in the troublesome tide waters, and easier
landing on shore. They were also all equipped with Gallic sails as well as
traditional banks of oars for propulsion under any conditions of wind and
water. Despite these improvements, nothing could prevent the vulnerability
of the Roman ships to the terrible storms that ravaged the southern coast of
Britain; Caesar had to send across the Channel instructions for the building
of replacements while he had the wrecks collected and whatever possible
repairs made. What is most remarkable about Caesar’s Channel crossings is
that no men lost their lives in shipwrecks or sinkings.
In the following decade, during the Civil War between Caesar and his
Roman enemies, navies again played an important part. They naturally fac-
tored in the six-month-long Siege of Massilia (spring–fall 49 BCE), a Greek
maritime center (today’s Marseilles) located on the south coast of Gaul
which had declared its allegiance to Pompey, Caesar’s chief rival. In the
combat zone of the Adriatic Sea, Pompey’s naval forces attempted to keep
Caesar bottled up in Italy and to keep him from crossing over into Greece,
and to stop reinforcements under Marc Antony from reaching him once he
did make the perilous voyage (winter–spring 48 BCE). Lastly, Caesar gath-
ered combat ships to challenge the citizens of Alexandria (the capital of
Egypt) for control of the harbors of and coastal waters around that city (fall
48–spring 47 BCE).
On most of these occasions, the ships in use had been requisitioned
from those available. For instance, Pompey and his supporters made their
escape from Italy (spring 49 BCE) by confiscating all the vessels in the har-
bor of Brundisium (modern Brindisi), leaving none for Caesar to utilize in
577
Navy/Ships
hot pursuit; the latter responded by ordering the collection of ships from
all other Italian ports and from Sicily. To address the Siege of Massilia, he
had warships constructed from scratch in the Gallic town of Arelate (mod-
ern Arles), probably by local artisans. Brutus Albinus, again in charge of
this fleet, also put captured enemy vessels to work for him, another com-
mon Roman tactic. Meanwhile, Pompey had gathered a fleet in Greece by
requisitioning ships from every part of the eastern Mediterranean. So it
was vessels provided by allies and subjects and manned by allies and sub-
jects (commanded by Roman officers, of course) that worked against the
crossing of Caesar and his forces into Greece, and that transported Pompey
to Egypt and refugees of his defeated army to safe haven in North Africa
after Caesar’s victory in the Battle of Pharsalus. Caesar himself also came
to rely heavily on warships collected from the communities of the eastern
Mediterranean (especially the Greek island of Rhodes) in the aftermath of
Pharsalus.
Seafaring vessels in Roman times, even all the warships noted earlier, had
to contend with a number of limiting factors. Since mariners feared getting
lost at sea, having no compass and only being able to use their astrolabes
(devices to chart position by sun, stars, and moon) under cloudless condi-
tions, they hugged the coastline; this was especially so during the summer
months when the Etesian trade winds from the north virtually prevented
return travel to Italy over the open sea. Violent winter storms in the sea-
son from November through February further encouraged making voy-
ages always in sight of land. Also, ancient ships were simply not that large
or comfortable; for a long trip, stopping at many ports, especially islands,
for supplies and rest was necessary and smart; Pompey did this when he fled
Greece for Egypt. Only someone as driven as Julius Caesar would dare to
make naval voyages faster than that.
See also: Adriatic Sea; Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Ant-
ony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Gaul/Gallia Comata;
Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE); Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE); Nicomedes
(d. 75/74 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Piracy; Pompey (106–48
BCE); Provinces
Further Reading
578
D’Arms, J. H., and E. C. Kopff. 1980. The Seaborne Commerce of Ancient Rome.
Rome: American Academy in Rome.
Starr, C. G. 1960. The Roman Imperial Navy. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan
Press.

Among the foreign rulers with whom Julius Caesar formed a strong bond
was Nicomedes IV of Bithynia. Many prominent Romans had followed be-
fore him in helping to buttress that ruler and his kingdom against a variety
of challenges, but none of them had gotten as close to Nicomedes as Caesar
allegedly did, a connection that dogged Caesar for the rest of his life.
The prosperous kingdom of Bithynia, centered along the southwestern
coast of the Black Sea in what is today Turkey, had a tradition of expansion-
ism stretching back to the early third century BCE and beyond; the Bithyn-
ian kings worked militarily and diplomatically to dominate and absorb the
Greek cities along the southern coast of the Black Sea and south and west
toward the Aegean Sea, and to extend their sway over the Paphlagonian and
Pontic kingdoms to the east and the Pergamene kingdom to the south. On
several occasions in the late third and early second centuries, such expansion-
ism brought Bithynia into confrontation with the Roman Empire, which
had developed allies in the region and did not allow those allies to be de-
spoiled or conquered by the Bithynians. By the time of Nicomedes’s grand-
father, Bithynia had also forged formal alliance with Rome, but that did not
really stop the desire to expand the kingdom at the expense of neighbors.
One of those neighbors, Mithradates VI of Pontus (along the northeast
coast of Turkey), had equally grand dreams of conquest. He decided to ally
with Nicomedes’s father to seize and split the kingdom of Paphlagonia; the
Romans sent ambassadors to intervene to prevent this. The two kings then
competed over the Cappadocian realm (located south and east of Bithynia,
in the heartland of Turkey), where Mithradates appeared to have the advan-
tage because his sister (Laodice) had become queen there. Things did not
work out as he had planned, however, since the widowed Laodice intended
to remain independent from her brother, even if that meant marrying his
adversary, Nicomedes III, to do so.
By the time of the latter’s death, ca. 94 BCE, the Romans had stepped into
the whole Cappadocian business and appointed a local noble (Ariobarzanes)
579
to rule; they also gave approval for Nicomedes’s son, Nicomedes IV, to as-
sume the throne of Bithynia. Within two years, however, he barely survived
an assassination attempt only to face a rebellion led by his own younger
brother, Socrates Chrestos, commanding an army provided by Mithradates,
who had incited the latter to seize the kingdom (and had sent in the assas-
sin); Nicomedes was thrown out of his own country by 91 BCE.
A delegation from the Roman Senate arrived the following year to nego-
tiate the evacuation of Pontic forces from Bithynia; as in the past, the Ro-
mans refused to see any of their allies in the region gain too much ground
against the others. Since Mithradates also had an agreement with Rome, he
complied (reluctantly). Members of the Roman embassy, most infamously
its leader, Aquillius, then pressured Nicomedes into waging war against
Pontus, assuring support from the empire; in fact, they had no authoriza-
tion to do this and simply sought to utilize the Bithynian army as a proxy to
punish Mithradates for his years of machinations in the region.
The pressure the ambassadors applied to Nicomedes was neither diplo-
matic nor military, but financial. Ever since his father’s reign, the Bithynian
kings had complained to Rome of the nefarious activities of Roman tax col-
lectors in the area, how they would cross over into Bithynia from the nearby
Roman province of Asia (western Turkey, what had been Pergamum) and
kidnap Bithynian subjects for sale into slavery. In addition, these same tax
collectors belonged to companies that loaned money (at exorbitant rates of
interest) to the cash-strapped Bithynian government. Just before the death
of Nicomedes’s father, the Senate did attempt to crackdown on these and
other illegal practices in various ways, but with little long-term success be-
cause of the clout wielded by the tax-collecting companies and their asso-
ciates back in Rome. Aquillius urged Nicomedes to do Rome the favor of
invading Pontus; the spoils of victory would give the king the chance to
pay off his own country’s huge debts, as well as the reward Nicomedes had
promised the Roman ambassadors and commanders for restoring him to
his throne.
The king obeyed. Bithynian troops raided the western territories of Pon-
tus along the Black Sea coast, returning with considerable loot, and ap-
parently closed off Pontic access to the Aegean Sea. Mithradates’s envoys
complained of this to the Roman embassy, demanding the protection of
their Roman “allies”; Nicomedes’s representatives, in turn, stated their
grievances against the Pontic menace. Naturally, the Romans present, who
had started this new round of trouble, did nothing to halt the conflict.
The timing was lousy. In the summer of 89 BCE, when Nicomedes
launched the invasion, the Roman Republic had its hands full with a serious
revolution begun by its allies in the Italian Peninsula; the Senate and People
of Rome had not formally approved of Nicomedes’s war, but, even if they
had, they could do little to help him at that moment or to stop Mithradates.
580
This meant that the latter, who saw how the Romans had really turned on
him, had the chance to use his much better army and navy to sweep the in-
vaders out of his kingdom and achieve more besides.
Nicomedes commanded a large force of infantry and cavalry, whose op-
erations he coordinated with the troops under the Roman commanders,
gathered from the province of Asia as well as neighboring, friendly states.
The Bithynians themselves successfully countered the first assaults of the
Pontic army at the border of the two kingdoms. Then, their opponents
launched war chariots armed with bladed wheels (scythe-bearing chari-
ots), which mowed through the Bithynians, leaving behind scores of hor-
ribly mutilated bodies. The consequent panic allowed the Pontic forces to
surround and destroy most of Nicomedes’s army; the survivors received
their freedom from Mithradates, as well as provisions for returning home.
Nicomedes found himself once again removed from power, on the run, in
exile. The Roman units and their commanders did not fare much better.
Mithradates seized control of Bithynia itself, as well as the other neighbor-
ing realms, and even the Roman province of Asia in 89 BCE.
Later efforts (86–85 BCE) of fresh Roman forces under L. Valerius Flac-
cus and C. Flavius Fimbria rescued Bithynia from Mithradates’s clutches.
Building on their efforts, the Roman general, L. Cornelius Sulla, formally
restored Nicomedes to his throne, reconciling him with Mithradates and
other neighboring kings so that they would all mind their own business and
stay out of each other’s. Sulla also allowed the Roman tax collectors much
more free reign throughout the region, burdening the Bithynians once
more with their profit-seeking behavior.
The king continued to rule pretty much at the discretion of the Romans;
he proved a good ally to them. For example, he provided ships to a young
staff-officer named Julius Caesar, who had been sent on that mission by the
governor of Asia. Stories circulated about Caesar’s drunk and disorderly and
undignified misconduct in the royal court, some of these coming from the
Roman tax collectors and other businessmen there. Worse still, in Roman
eyes, rumors spread that Caesar had had a homosexual relationship with the
aging king during his extended visit; such things were not widely accepted in
the Roman society of his day. Nicomedes had developed a reputation over the
years for having homosexual affairs; from the allegations against Caesar came
the later description of him as a “queen” or as “the Bithynian queen’s rival.”
The stories persisted throughout the rest of Caesar’s lifetime, especially
utilized by his political enemies (e.g., C. Scribonius Curio the Elder, who
had served as Sulla’s representative in the official restoration of Nicomedes)
in attempts to tarnish his reputation both privately and very publicly. Even
his most loyal soldiers joked openly about the affair over the years, though
they tended to do so to bring their great commander down a peg or two.
For instance, over three decades later, during his magnificent triumphal
581
celebrations in 46 BCE, they shouted out that Caesar may have conquered
the Gauls (the population of ancient France), but Nicomedes had con-
quered Caesar. This distressed Caesar greatly, and he swore on oath that no
homosexual relationship had taken place. According to the ancient sources,
this did not convince his troops, who made even greater fun of him.
Whatever might have actually happened between Caesar and Nicome-
des, the former acted on his return to Rome as the representative of the
king, the royal family, and the kingdom, in true Roman fashion playing the
part of patron and openly acknowledging ties of friendship and obligation.
The king did not live long enough to witness Caesar’s rise to prominence;
Nicomedes died either in late 75 or early 74 BCE. He followed the example
of other kings allied to Rome by leaving his entire kingdom to the empire
in his will. The Senate accepted this “donation,” which precipitated yet
another conflict with Mithradates, who sought to prevent Roman expan-
sionism by a preemptive invasion of Bithynia in 74 BCE; the Roman forces,
under L. Licinius Lucullus, reversed this in the following year.
Nicomedes’s bequest to Rome had far-reaching effect. Never again
would the former kingdom enjoy independence, as it was incorporated into
the Roman Empire and inherited by its successor, the Byzantine Empire,
then absorbed into the Ottoman Empire and inherited by its successor, the
modern nation of Turkey.
See also: Homosexuality; Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE);
Provinces; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Ltd.
Magie, D. 1950. Roman Rule in Asia Minor. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
McGing, B. 1986. The Foreign Policy of Mithridates VI Eupator. Leiden, the Neth-
Sullivan, R. 1990. Near Eastern Royalty and Rome. Toronto: University of To-
ronto Press.
White, H. 1962. Appian’s Roman History. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.
Numidia. See Libya/Numidia
582
O
Ocean
Ocean
In 55 BCE, Julius Caesar led troops across the English Channel into Britain
for the first time, thereby becoming the first Roman general to cross “the
Ocean,” as the Romans understood it. They probably learned about the ex-
istence of “the Ocean” from the Greeks and perhaps also from the Carthag-
inians; explorers and merchants from both of those cultures had ventured
beyond the limits of the Mediterranean world. The Greeks and Carthag-
inians, together with the much older cultures of Egypt and the Near East,
had come to define “the Ocean” as a massive body of water, like a gigantic
river, that encircled the known landmass of Asia, Africa, and Europe.
Since at least the eighth century BCE, ancient mariners, searching out
natural resources, had ventured out of the Mediterranean into the At-
lantic Ocean; most of these were Phoenicians (a people originally from
Lebanon), especially coming out of the colony of Carthage (in ancient
Tunisia). By the third century, after the military exploits of Alexander the
Great had brought to Greece much information about Egypt, the Middle
East, and India, these explorers came mainly from Greek communities and
set out on expeditions into what was for them uncharted waters, such as
the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, and the Caspian Sea, in addition to the
Atlantic Ocean. Again, they were often looking for trade routes or re-
sources but they were also attempting to discover just how large was the
landmass of the Earth and whether they could circumnavigate it by way of
“the Ocean.” Greek geometers in places like Alexandria, Egypt, conceiv-
ing of the Earth as a great sphere (just as did Greek scientists as far back as
the sixth century BCE), combined mathematical speculations with the geo-
graphical reports of these expeditions and came to (really jumped to) the
conclusion that most of the Earth’s surface was covered by “the Ocean”
and not by land. Thus, when Caesar crossed over into Britain, his contem-
poraries would have believed that it was “the edge” of the Earth, beyond
which was simply more Ocean.
The Romans of his generation had become fascinated with their own
cultural success at empire building and were so imbued with a knowledge
of Greek history that they expected to surpass the achievements even of
Alexander. This meant that, since Alexander had never made it to “the
Outer Ocean,” by which they usually meant the farthest limits of Asia and
Europe, they must do so. This sort of thinking inspired Caesar’s associate,
Crassus, for example. In the same year that Caesar led his first expedition
into Britain, Crassus secured command of the Roman province of Syria;
he intended, as everyone in-the-know well knew, to wage war from there
against the Parthian Empire (centered in today’s Iraq and Iran). Accord-
ing to the Imperial biographer Plutarch, Crassus completely lost his senses
in taking up this mission. He hoped not only to defeat the Parthians but
585
Ocean
Caesar Crossing Stormy Seas, 1634. (Basse, Willem, Dutch, 1613 or 1614–1672
etching and engraving on laid paper plate: 10.7 x 15.7 cm (4 3/16 x 6 3/16 in.)
plate: 10.7 x 15.7 cm (4 3/16 x 6 3/16 in.) David K. E. Bruce Fund)
also to absorb their territory and thence to push on as far as the very limits
of Asia, even to the “Ocean” itself. Obviously, he sought to best his friend
Caesar as well as Alexander the Great. Killed by the Parthians, however,
Crassus never made it very far from Syria.
Crassus’s goal, though, was not that far-fetched. After all, while governing
Further Spain (today’s southern Spain) four decades earlier, his own father,
sources say, had brought eye-witness knowledge back to Rome about the sto-
ried tin-producing islands in the North Atlantic. Later, when his friend Caesar
governed that same province, the latter ventured as far as the Atlantic coast in
his efforts to subdue the independent tribal populations then inhabiting what
we would today call Galicia and Portugal. A few years after that, Crassus’s
son, Publius, served as one of Caesar’s lieutenants in Gaul (roughly modern
France) where he commanded forces to secure the cooperation of the tribes
that lived along the Atlantic coast in what is today Brittany. The “Ocean” had
become much more familiar to the Romans of Crassus’s generation.
The operations of Publius Crassus in 57 BCE really introduced him and
his commanding general to the mysteries of the Atlantic Ocean. Unlike the
Mediterranean Sea, it produced enormous storms and violent winds the
likes of which the Romans had never seen and left portions of the western
coast of France wild and torn up; massive tide waters flowed onto shore and
586
Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE)
then away from shore in twelve-hour intervals, all of which was new to the
Romans. In fact, Caesar, in his writings on the wars in Gaul, described the
Atlantic tides as flowing like a powerful stream through a watermill.
Sailing in the Atlantic posed dangers and challenges for which the Roman
forces were completely unprepared. This came home to Caesar especially
during his famous first expedition into Britain. For instance, his transports,
having set out from the continent to bring his forces back there, in what
appeared to be fine weather, found themselves in a completely unexpected
storm that forced them helplessly from one end of the Channel to the
other; they soon noted that the presence of the full moon seemed to make
the tide waters even stronger and higher than usual, which Caesar admits
the Romans had no previous knowledge of. Learning that at the time did
not save his ships from destruction, but the Romans did adjust and improve
their ship designs and other preparations for the second expedition to Brit-
ain a year later, making it a much better experience.
No Roman ever achieved Crassus’s dream of reaching the “Outer Ocean”
beyond Asia (what we would call the Pacific), but Caesar’s campaigns in
Gaul and Britain opened up for Romans of many future generations a great
deal more awareness and understanding of the Atlantic seaboard as far
north as the mouth of the Rhine River. Yet, even under the emperors, who
brought most of Britain into the Roman orbit and extended Roman sway
from the coasts of Morocco and Portugal in the south almost to Denmark
in the north, the Romans made no serious effort, as far as we know, to pen-
etrate any further into the vastness of “the Ocean.”
See also: Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar);
Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Mediterranean Sea; Par-
thia; Spain
Further Reading
Romm, J. 1992. The Edges of the Earth in Ancient Thought. Princeton, NJ:
Talbert, R.J.A. 1985. Atlas of Classical History. New York: Macmillan Publishing.

In his last will, Julius Caesar left the lion’s share of his estate to his great-
nephew, Octavian (grandson of the younger of his two sisters). Though
587
Aureus depicting the head of Octavian. The inscriptions on the reverse (back) of this
gold coin identify him as young Caesar, victorious commander (IMP), pontiff
(PONT), and triumvir for the restoration of the Republic (III VIR RPC). Minted
perhaps in Ephesus by his then-partner Marc Antony, 41 BCE. (The Bridgeman Art
Library/Getty Images)
he apparently left nothing to Octavian’s sisters, his decision to adopt the

young man as his own son, making the latter C. Julius Caesar the Younger,
changed their lives as well, and irrevocably. Octavia the Younger particu-
larly found herself thrown into the center of the most critical politics, both
as someone who could herself affect the outcome of events and as a pawn
of others.
Octavia was probably twenty-five years old at the time of great-uncle
Caesar’s assassination, that is, about six years older than her brother, Octa-
vian. Her relationship with Caesar is hard to know. Almost a decade earlier,
he planned to marry her off to his ally Pompey (roughly thirty years her se-
nior) to maintain their tight political association. Her mother, Atia, would
have had no legal right to prevent this (if she had wanted to) because Caesar,
588
whether he was technically registered as the young girl’s legal guardian or

not, as one of her two closest, adult male blood relations still living, had
customary authority to intervene and interfere in her life choices. Roman
women, as a matter of tradition, had such male “protection” for their entire
lives (and especially during the period up to their twenty-fifth birthday),
though upper-class women frequently found ways around it. Octavia’s
other close male relative, her grandfather, Atius Balbus, seems to have of-
fered no objection to Caesar’s idea; L. Marcius Philippus, as only her step-
father (her own father, C. Octavius, had passed away in 59 BCE and her
mother had remarried the following year), had no legal rights in the matter;
and even Octavia’s own husband (she was indeed only recently married to
C. Claudius Marcellus) appears not to have been required to give his con-
sent to their divorce (suggesting that they were united by what Romans
called free marriage, in which the wife was still legally tied to her natal fam-
ily and not under her husband’s authority). Within the Roman elite, and
certainly in Caesar’s mind, the match with Marcellus (himself about twenty
years older than Octavia), like a match with Pompey, was purely political,
not a matter of the young girl’s feelings, or anyone else’s for that matter.
In the end, all this was moot since Pompey rejected the marriage to Oc-
tavia. Still, it clearly reveals her first role as a means to an end, the advance-
ment of the family’s interests. Upon her uncle Caesar’s death, her brother,
Octavian, continued to employ her, and her children, in the same fashion.
She and Marcellus had three children, two daughters and a son, each of
whom was married off advantageously (to Agrippa, Octavian’s best friend;
to the nephew of Octavian’s colleague Lepidus; and to Julia, Octavian’s
daughter, respectively). When Marcellus died in 40 BCE, leaving Octavia a
widow at the age of twenty-nine, her brother soon arranged for her remar-
riage to his colleague Marc Antony; this sealed an uneasy peace and pact of
cooperation between them.
The marriage seemed to have gone well for a number of years, as Octa-
via traveled with her new husband in the eastern Mediterranean territories
of the empire, especially Greece. They had two daughters together. All the
while, though, Antony’s illicit (in Roman eyes) relationship with Cleopatra
VII of Egypt grew stronger and began to eclipse the marriage to Octavia;
Antony’s passion, and his need for resources in wars against the Parthian
Empire (in what is now Iraq and Iran), demanded tightness with Cleopatra.
Octavia became a political football between her husband and her brother,
the latter accusing the former not only of infidelity but of treachery with a
“foreign” power.
Octavia’s multiple attempts to heal the growing breach and to give aid to
her husband achieved temporary fixes, especially in the tense year 36 BCE,
but accomplished nothing in the end, except to cement her reputation as
the most fair-minded, compassionate, and rational member of the extended
589
family, and bold enough to argue with her brother strenuously on her hus-
band’s behalf. Octavia averted another civil war at that point. Her brother
recognized her efforts with special honors, such as commemorative statues
and even some sacrosanct prerogatives of the plebeian tribunes; this last was
remarkable and new for a woman in Roman society. Antony, in the end,
though, threw in his lot entirely with Cleopatra and divorced Octavia in 32
BCE. This gave Octavian yet another pretext to wage war against his former
brother-in-law. The suicides of Antony and Cleopatra two years later left
their three young children parentless; Octavian handed them over to his sis-
ter to raise and train in the proper attitudes to his new regime.
After taking on this role, and thereby rearing a brood of nine children
within the Imperial family (not including Antyllus, Antony’s eldest son
from a previous marriage, whom Octavian had executed), Octavia certainly
gained considerable clout with her brother. When her son, Marcellus the
Younger, died in 23 BCE, Octavian actually consulted with his sister about
what should happen to his own daughter, Julia, Marcellus’s young widow.
Octavia apparently resisted her brother’s idea that Julia should be remarried
to his friend Agrippa (who himself was already married to Octavia’s eldest
daughter). The whole thing did go as Octavian planned, though, but only
after his sister had given her consent.
Octavia received grand honors from her brother, the first emperor of
Rome, upon her death; she was the fourth member of the extended Impe-
rial family to be buried inside Octavian-Augustus’s enormous mausoleum.
Like her second cousin, Caesar’s daughter Julia, she had been put to use by
the men in her life from early on, but, unlike Julia, Octavia had had oppor-
tunities to exert some influence along the way and had done so. The stron-
gest of these influences, even if it sounds old-fashioned or sexist, was in her
role as the woman of the Imperial household. Her brother’s wife, the em-
press Livia, tended to focus on the political machinations of the family, leav-
ing Octavia to form the character of the generations to come. Later officers
and emperors of Rome carried her blood, and her teachings, into the future.
Julia (d. 54 BCE); Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Marcellus Cousins;
Marriage/Divorce; Names; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Routledge.
Press.
590
Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE)
Dryden, J., and A. H. Clough 2001. Plutarch’s Lives. New York: Modern Library.

Julius Caesar had no legitimate male heir to his estate and his only daughter,
Julia, had died without giving him a grandson who might have served as such
an heir. In fairly typical Roman fashion, he turned to adopt a son from within
his extended family, someone to carry on his name and all the traditions bound
up with it. This adopted heir was C. Octavius, son of Atia, Caesar’s niece.
Known after his adoption as C. Julius Caesar Octavianus (hence, Octavian), he
would go on to become Caesar Augustus, the first emperor of Rome.
In the aftermath of Julius Caesar’s assassination, his friend and colleague
in the consulship, Marc Antony, stepped into the breach, persuading Cae-
sar’s second-in-command as dictator, M. Aemilius Lepidus, not to retaliate
against the assassins (the self-styled “Liberators”), but instead to negotiate
a truce and amnesty with them, a move supported by many members of the
Roman Senate. That body met two days later, validated Caesar’s policies
and decisions, and granted him a state funeral, to be held on March 20, 44
BCE. Antony seemed to have stepped into Caesar’s role as princeps, first man
of the Republic. He maintained peace with the Liberators, most of whom
continued to serve in the government in some capacity, assumed the gov-
ernorship of Caesar’s old province of Gaul and the command of the sixteen
legions Caesar had raised for his planned war against the Parthian Empire
(which ruled most of the Middle East at that time), and controlled the late
dictator’s fortune.
Then came the return of Caesar’s great-nephew, the nineteen-year-old
Octavian. His father of the same name had died fifteen years earlier, leav-
ing the upbringing of the young boy entirely to his mother, Atia, daughter
of Caesar’s sister Julia and senator M. Atius Balbus. A young widow, Atia
later remarried to L. Marcius Philippus, thus providing her children, Oc-
tavian and Octavia, with a stepfather; the young boy, however, already had
the dutiful attention of his great-uncle Caesar, who even made it a point to
bring him (at only four years old) to his inauguration as consul in 59 BCE.
591
When Caesar and his chief rival, Pompey, engaged in a Civil War that
tore the Republic apart, Atia and Philippus sent Octavian away from Rome
to live in the countryside among his paternal relations. He wanted to go off
to war on Caesar’s side, but the latter agreed with the young man’s parents
that his health was too fragile for that; Caesar, in fact, regularly checked on
Octavian’s health, whenever he was in Rome himself, or had his personal
physicians on-call to attend to the young man’s needs. In the years of civil
strife, Octavian accompanied Caesar to the theater and religious ceremo-
nies with greater frequency, and in a more prominent position next to the
dictator, as well. Caesar also included Octavian in his victory celebrations,
having him ride on horseback alongside the triumphal chariot. In 45 BCE,
Octavian finally joined his great-uncle on the campaign against Pompey’s
sons in Spain, permitted even to lodge in the commander’s tent, a great
honor; Caesar kept him close, supposedly to test the wisdom and intelli-
gence of the eighteen-year-old.
Pompey had once been Caesar’s son-in-law and, by virtue of that, had
held the position of Caesar’s heir. After the death of Caesar’s daughter,
Pompey’s wife Julia, and the falling out between the two men that ended
in civil war, Caesar made a new will that placed young Octavian first among
his heirs, adopted as his son, provided Caesar did not have one of his own.
Octavian did not become aware of this immediately, however, because Cae-
sar kept it a secret. By the time of his assassination, though, he had already
been grooming Octavian, who had a reputation as a sort of bookworm, in
the ways of politics and warfare; he was studying in western Greece, wait-
ing there to join Caesar on his Parthian expedition when news arrived of
his adoptive father’s death.
Despite the warnings of his mother and stepfather, Octavian quickly ac-
cepted his adoption, wasting no time in calling himself C. Julius Caesar
(leaving off the traditional Octavianus, though we do not follow his usage
today). Octavian (as we have called him, even though it is only accurate
to do so after the adoption), found Antony uncooperative, and Antony’s
rivals in the Senate, especially the famous orator Cicero, took the young
Caesar under their wing in the hope of splitting Caesar’s faction by pit-
ting Octavian against Antony for its leadership. Octavian was provided with
money to bribe the troops, while Cicero attacked Antony’s character and
policies in speeches before the Senate; provincial governors in the West
refused to follow Antony’s orders, while those in the East were primarily
Caesar’s assassins or those loyal to them. When Antony attempted to pun-
ish one of the rebellious governors of Cisalpine Gaul (northernmost Italy),
the Senate stood by that governor and dispatched the two consuls and
their armies against Antony; they had with them Octavian as a special offi-
cer (the Romans called it pro praetore). At the battle which ensued outside
the walls of Mutina (modern Modena), Antony was defeated and forced to
592
flee Italy, but both consuls also died, leaving Octavian in command of eight
legions. Seizing his opportunity, he promptly marched against Rome itself,
demanded a consulship “at sword-point,” and declared his desire to exact
vengeance on the murderers of his “father.” When Antony won over the
legions of Gaul and Spain, joined by his old comrade Lepidus, Octavian,
instead of fighting him, also declared his friendship for Antony; the three
men soon met at Bononia (modern Bologna) and divided the Roman Em-
pire among themselves.
The cowed Senate and Popular Assemblies soon granted legal power to
Octavian, Antony, and Lepidus as “the board of three men for the resto-
ration of the Republic” (tresviri rei publicae constituendae), and they pro-
ceeded to proscribe hundreds of prominent men from the Roman elite
(including some of their own relatives and Cicero), confiscated their lands
and fortunes, and declared war against the Liberators, especially Brutus and
Cassius, who had by then seized control of all the eastern provinces of the
Empire. In the two battles of Philippi in the fall of 42 BCE, Octavian almost
lost all he had maneuvered to achieve; victory came primarily thanks to
Antony and the mistakes made by Cassius and Brutus.
Octavian’s lesser position in the Second Triumvirate, as the three-way
partnership is now called, was demonstrated by the fact that Antony as-
sumed command of Gaul as well as the entire Roman East, while Octavian
held only the provinces of Spain. Of course, he could take some comfort in
Lepidus’s even lower position; since Lepidus had not been at Philippi, his
partners relegated him to govern only North Africa. The alliance among
them was shaky to say the least, even with the political marriage of Octavia,
Octavian’s sister, to Antony.
While Antony courted the alliance and the affections of Cleopatra VII of
Egypt, Octavian set in motion a series of moves to become princeps him-
self. He dispatched M. Vipsanius Agrippa, his closest friend and military
aide, with a fleet to remove the threat posed by Sextus Pompey, the last
son of Pompey the Great, whose considerable navy controlled the major
Mediterranean islands and seaways; after a two-year campaign, Agrippa de-
feated Sextus off the coast of Sicily, and Antony foolishly ordered his ex-
ecution when he fled for refuge into Asia Minor (modern Turkey). At the
same time, Octavian dispossessed his partner Lepidus of his soldiers and his
province and placed him under house arrest (where he lived for another
twenty years).
Even though the Triumvirs had agreed to share Italy as a common re-
cruiting ground for new troops for any of their campaigns, Octavian pre-
vented Antony from acquiring Italian reinforcements during the latter’s war
against the Parthians, the war that Caesar himself had not had the chance
to wage. Octavian’s obstructionism contributed significantly to the losses
Antony suffered in Parthian territory, despite his initial successes there.
593
Through political speeches as well as writings, Octavian developed a pro-

paganda campaign to blacken the reputation and standing of Antony, es-
pecially in the eyes of the Roman people. Antony had developed a personal
relationship with Cleopatra and had even handed over Roman provinces, as
well as lands conquered from the Parthians, to his three children by her; it
was even revealed that he wished to be buried, when the time came, next
to her, in Egypt, not back in Rome. Such behavior gave Octavian the am-
munition he needed to brand Antony as a deluded, sex-toy puppet of a bar-
barian ruler who sought to impose foreign power on the Roman Empire.
Antony responded, not only by declaring his unchallenged authority over
the Roman East, but also, in direct retaliation against Octavian’s claims, by
recognizing Cleopatra’s thirteen-year-old son, Ptolemy Caesarion, as the
true son of Julius Caesar. Many already believed the truth of the boy’s pa-
ternity, though modern scholars cannot be certain; the main thing is that
Antony was calling into question the only factor on Octavian’s side that
gave him any significant advantage over rivals.
Two years later, Antony severed the last tie with Octavian by divorcing
the latter’s sister. The majority of the Senate evacuated Rome for their own
safety and to support Antony; the remainder declared war, not against Ant-
ony but against Cleopatra, as Octavian wanted this to look like a conflict
between Rome and a foreign enemy. The rump Senate did, however, strip
Antony officially of all his political and military powers, leaving Octavian
the only “legitimate” supreme commander of the empire.
Octavian’s fleet and army, under the command of Agrippa, attacked Ant-
ony’s ground and sea forces at the port city of Actium in western Greece;
neither of them wanted to repeat the mistakes of earlier civil wars that
had ravaged Italian soil. Skirmishing, blockading, and other efforts to wear
the opposing side down took place, to no conclusion, in the hot summer
months of 31 BCE. When Antony made the fatal mistake of risking the en-
tire war on a daring naval battle, Agrippa countered so successfully that
Cleopatra fled the scene, soon followed by Antony, and most of the troops
they left behind surrendered to Octavian.
Octavian marched his forces overland toward Egypt (where the fugitive
couple had taken refuge), taking his time to secure all the provincial territo-
ries along the route. In the following summer, Octavian’s army crushed the
last, feeble resistance of Antony’s remaining troops in Egypt, and the latter
committed suicide. Octavian hoped to capture Cleopatra alive, and he did,
and she attempted to negotiate with him, especially for the sake of her chil-
dren; these talks failed in most respects, so she, also, took her own life. Her
son Caesarion and Antony’s eldest son, Antyllus, were both executed on
Octavian’s orders, as they were grown up enough to harbor hatreds against
him and pose a threat; Octavian handed over the much younger children of
Antony and Cleopatra to his sister, Octavia, to be raised (i.e., to brainwash
594
and put to political uses). He also ordered the burial of Antony and Cleopa-
tra together, with appropriate honors.
With Egypt as his personal property, including the vast treasure that
Cleopatra and her ancestors had accumulated over the generations, Octa-
vian had wealth beyond the wildest dreams of any Roman aristocrat. With
control of over thirty legions of Roman soldiers, as well as auxiliary forces
from foreign allies, and hundreds of ships, no other senator could match
his military might. The cold-hearted C. Octavius, known for his bouts of
illness and frequent allergies, had become, by the age of only thirty-three,
master of the Roman world.
Still, the biggest question in the minds of many Romans and their sub-
jects throughout the empire was whether Octavian would restore the Re-
public and establish a lasting peace. He definitely sought to maintain his
unrivaled, strong position within the state (which included, like his great-
uncle, multiple consulships and other traditional offices); he also wanted to
preserve as many of the mechanisms of the old Republic as he could with-
out allowing them to get out of control and cause further civil strife. Faced
with conspiracies against his life, Octavian needed to reform the state in
such a way as to appeal to a wide-enough segment of the important people
throughout Roman society as well as the provincials.
Octavian’s compromise system, what we call the Principate, after his own
preferred title of princeps or first citizen, involved keeping the Senate and
the Popular Assemblies intact, but staffing the former with fresh blood, and
individuals largely loyal to himself, and reducing the activities of the latter.
Octavian wanted to make sure that only men he considered most worthy
and most qualified became senators or held posts of importance, but this
meant that he had no intention of running the empire without them. An
unequal partnership would exist, but a partnership nonetheless, with Oc-
tavian holding the upper hand, not only because of his political authority
(like the perpetual tribunician power that allowed him to speak “on behalf”
of the whole People) but also because of his supreme command over all
Rome’s armies as Imperator (from which derives the word emperor); his
reform of the military reduced the threat of civil war dramatically.
KAISER
The term Kaiser, though today conjuring up notions of medical insur-
ance or bread rolls perhaps, refers, in fact, to the Imperial families of
Austria (Habsburgs) and Germany (Hohenzollerns). In previous gen-
erations, the various states that made up “Germany” possessed sepa-
rate rulers, carrying a variety of titles, all swearing allegiance to the
595
so-called Holy Roman Emperor (Romanorum Imperator, as was said

for much of medieval history). With Napoleon’s conquest of much of
Germany from Austrian overlordship, and his own assumption of the
title of “Emperor” in the early nineteenth century CE, the Habsburgs
employed Kaiser for themselves in what remained of their extensive
realm. Similarly, with the unification of Germany under the Hohen-
zollerns late in that same century came the necessity of employing
a new title to differentiate the monarch of all of Germany from the
subordinate rulers of the separate states. At the time, fascination with
classical Rome and the days of the Imperial Caesars was huge among
the educated upper and middle classes of Europe; after all, Queen
Victoria called herself the ruler of Britain (taken from the Roman
word, Britannia) and the Russian royal family (“Romanovs”) were
Tsars (“Caesars”). So, the Germans continued to employ a title con-
sistent with Roman tradition and chose Kaiser, again from “Caesar.”
Unified Germany of the late nineteenth and early twentieth cen-
turies CE saw three Kaisers, Wilhelm I, Friedrich III, and Wilhelm
II, before the tragedy of World War I brought an end to the monar-
chy and establishment of a Republic. Still, monarchists in Germany
dreamed of restoring the Kaiserzeit; even the Nazis toyed with the
idea of bringing Wilhelm II or some other member of his extended
family back to Germany as a symbol of their new Reich.
Octavian made good his political inheritance from Julius Caesar by becom-
ing the first man in Rome, but he went well beyond that also. He repaired as
much as he could the damage that he himself, and his predecessors stretching
back nearly a century, had done to the empire, thereby saving it and passing
it on to future generations. He preserved as much of the Republic as pos-
sible and coupled it with a veiled monarchy, setting a pattern of governance
for his successor emperors, and many others in later eras, to emulate. Most
significantly, perhaps, Octavian, called Augustus by the Senate as of 27 BCE,
closed a long period of civil strife and ushered in the longest period of in-
ternal peace, the Pax Romana, that the Mediterranean world has ever seen.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE);
Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Caesarion (47–30 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43
BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Dic-
tator; Divus Iulius; Egypt; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia
Cisalpina; Imperator; Julia (d. 54 BCE); Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE);
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Names; Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE); Parthia;
Proscriptions; Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE); Suicide; Triumvirate
596
Omens
Further Reading
Press.
Press.
inger Publishing.
Publishing.
Omens
Throughout their history, both as individuals and collectively, Romans sel-
dom made any important decision or took any important action without
first seeking the divine will by reading the omens, signs within nature of the
supernatural will. On the surface, Julius Caesar was no exception to this,
but he and many of his contemporaries in the Late Republic, even when
they read the omens, manipulated their interpretation, disregarded them,
or otherwise abused the tradition for their own advantage.
Since religion and politics were always linked in Roman society, it should
come as no surprise that political leaders were always involved in the reading
of omens. The most common practice consisted of the taking of the aus-
pices by the magistrates. This meant carefully observing the flight, behav-
ior, even eating habits, of birds, considered most sacred to Jupiter, and his
consort, Juno; it also meant scanning the sky for any unusual or noteworthy
occurrence taken to be some form of message from those gods. Romans be-
lieved that, among all the supernatural forces of the universe, Jupiter, lord of
the sky, especially communicated with them through such omens.
One of Rome’s most important colleges of priests, the sixteen augurs,
instructed the magistrates in how to take the auspices and then consulted
in the proper interpretation of the omens. Roman magistrates, whether the
official in the Forum or the commander on the battlefield, engaged in this
process of auspicium every day, indeed, every time they intended to take
597
Omens
PANSTARRS telescopic camera system reveals a comet streaking across an early night
sky above a rising full moon. The ancient Romans believed that a comet like this one
signaled the transition of Julius Caesar’s spirit from the human world to the realm of
the gods. (Suyerry/Dreamstime.com)
any official action of significance, and they traditionally sought the approval
and heeded the warnings of the augurs.
In the legislative arena, magistrates took the auspices before introduc-
ing bills to the Popular Assemblies of voters. For instance, when Caesar
brought forward a land reform bill as consul in 59 BCE, his colleague, Bibu-
lus, took the auspices; the latter announced that the omens were bad for
bringing the bill to a vote, so it would have to be tabled until the next day.
In truth, Bibulus may have deliberately interpreted the auspices as unfa-
vorable because he personally opposed Caesar’s legislation. Regardless of
that, tradition insisted that both consuls follow whatever the auspices indi-
cated. Caesar refused to go along with the warnings for that day, however;
instead, in his determination to get the bill passed, he openly disregarded
Bibulus and, in fact, chased him out of the Forum by force. On the follow-
ing day, Bibulus lodged a formal complaint against Caesar’s behavior with
the Senate. When that body did nothing to punish Caesar for disregarding
the auspices and threatening his own colleague, Bibulus decided to remain
at home (where at least he would be safe) for the rest of his term of office.
From the courtyard of his house, he continued to take the auspices every
time he was informed of an official action by Caesar; every time, Bibulus
declared the omens for such actions unfavorable to the gods, and every
time, Caesar disregarded those announcements.
598
Omens
An omen could also come in the form of a portent, that is, an unsought
sign from the gods, usually pertaining to future events. Caesar and a hand-
ful of his troops experienced such a thing in the winter of 49 BCE, before
their crossing of the Rubicon River in northern Italy, the action that basi-
cally declared his Civil War with the Republic. They claimed to have seen
what looked like a man of enormous size lounging by the Rubicon, playing
a pipe; when the soldiers came near him, he dashed at them, grabbed one
of their trumpets, and ran across the river, giving the attack signal on his
new horn. Caesar then ordered his men to follow the apparition, taking its
actions as portending that the gods themselves wished him to launch a war
against his enemies. On another occasion, the night before the Battle of
Pharsalus in the summer of 48 BCE, Caesar saw a flaming light streak across
the sky, very bright over his own camp, and then disappear in the camp of
his enemy, Pompey; perhaps it was some sort of meteor. Each man could
have interpreted it as a gift of victory from the heavens, though later au-
thors generally saw it as a clear sign of divine favor toward Caesar.
So, such portents could be interpreted in various ways. For instance, in
late 47 BCE, when Caesar landed on the coast of North Africa to continue
the war against the followers of the now-dead Pompey, he tripped and fell
to the ground on reaching the shore. Typically, Romans would have re-
garded this as a very bad omen; they never saw it as a good thing to trip at
“thresholds,” which is even where the tradition of carrying the bride over
the threshold of one’s home comes from. Caesar, however, interpreted it
his own way, as a portent of holding Africa for himself.
Caesar disregarded outright a long string of omens that foreshadowed
his assassination. Strange lights appeared in the sky, crashing sounds were
heard everywhere in the night, and apparitions of armed men on fire were
seen, all inexplicable. A herd of horses, which Caesar had dedicated to the
spirit of the River Rubicon for allowing his safe passage across it, having
roamed wild and happy in the river valley for several years, began, a few
months before his demise, to shed large amounts of tears and simply would
not stop. Most ominous of all, on the day before his assassination, a bird
flew into the Curia of Pompey (the building where his murder would in-
deed take place), chased by a flock of birds of a different type; though
the first one carried in its beak a piece of laurel, a sure symbol of victory, the
others proceeded to tear the bird to pieces. Yet, on the morning of the Ides
of March, despite a series of strange happenings that led him to consider
that day inauspicious for a meeting of the Senate, Caesar allowed himself to
be persuaded by Decimus Brutus Albinus to ignore the signs and proceed
to that meeting anyway, thereby opening the opportunity for his fellow
senators to murder him.
The bad omens continued even after Caesar’s fall. According to the
Greek biographer Plutarch, an entire year of agricultural trouble ensued,
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Oppius and Hirtius
fruits and vegetables failing to properly mature because of cold and heavy
atmosphere caused by insufficient heat from the sun; many people believed
it had dimmed in response to Caesar’s death, a sign of the gods’ anger.
Another such sign haunted Brutus, leader of the assassins. Not long be-
fore the battles of Philippi, he saw inside his military tent a larger-than-life,
malevolent figure, who warned of his destruction; he saw the thing again
before the second of the battles, after which, Brutus felt compelled to com-
mit suicide.
Though today we might not commonly see them this way, in a very real
sense, the Romans regarded themselves as a sort of chosen people pro-
tected by the gods; over the generations, they came to believe that the gods
intended the success of Rome and guided its rise to world power. Such
guidance was not always obvious, though; often, it had to be sought out
through the reading of omens.
See also: Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Crossing the Rubi-
con; Forum Romanum; Ides of March; Land Reform; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular
Assemblies; Religion, Roman; Senate
Further Reading
Co.
Oppius and Hirtius

Ancient writers identified two of Caesar’s close confidantes, C. Oppius and
A. Hirtius, as the true authors of military histories attributed to Caesar
himself. The Imperial biographer Suetonius, for example, credited Hirtius
with completing Caesar’s Gallic Wars and noted how other commenta-
tors gave either Hirtius or Oppius credit for composing the Alexandrian
War, African War, and Spanish War. Regardless of the question of author-
ship, which remains a matter of debate among modern scholars, both Hir-
tius and Oppius rose to prominence because of Caesar’s favor, the former
owing his military career and the latter his literary one to Caesar.
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Oppius and Hirtius
Oppius benefited from Caesar’s appreciation for literary talent (at some
point, Oppius authored biographies of the famous generals Scipio Africa-
nus and Marius and, after the Civil War period, of Pompey, Caesar himself,
and Cassius) and for the loyalty and often-untapped abilities of men who
came from the equestrian order. Caesar relied on Oppius, as he did Corne-
lius Balbus, to manage his affairs in Rome while he was away in Gaul and
during the Civil War with his chief rival, Pompey the Great. Indeed, sur-
viving correspondence, even the shortest of notes, reveal that he kept Op-
pius and Balbus regularly informed on developments in the field. Especially
in the first months of the conflict, when Oppius and Balbus outspokenly
urged reconciliation, Caesar wanted them to know that he was doing ev-
erything he could to that end.
Caesar regarded Oppius as one of his good friends; on one occasion in
the past, he had even conceded to Oppius, who had taken unexpectedly ill,
the only available shelter, while Caesar himself and his troops slept outside
in a cold forest. Oppius came to know many of Caesar’s most intimate se-
crets and habits, especially since they spent so much time dining together,
as close friends did in Roman society. For example, Oppius noted how
Caesar would eat just about anything, even olive oil that had spoiled, un-
like their mutual friend, Hirtius, who prided himself on his reputation as a
gourmet.
Oppius also developed a good friendship with a member of the Senate
whom Caesar always sought to have on his side (or, at least, not against
him), M. Tullius Cicero. Their connection dated back to Cicero’s politi-
cal exile in 57 BCE, when Oppius proved his concern for Cicero himself
and the latter’s family. In their correspondence, we see Cicero’s respect
for Oppius’s character, mentally shrewd but also straightforward. Oppius
doggedly encouraged Cicero to remain neutral in the Civil War, contin-
uously reassuring him of Caesar’s friendship, but also advised Cicero to
make the choices that would align with the famous orator’s political stat-
ure and reputation, even if those conflicted with Caesar’s goals. Oppius
did urge Cicero to participate in peace negotiations between Pompey and
Caesar, should the opportunity present itself; Cicero’s standing within the
Senate and the good relations he had with both generals, not to mention
their respect for him, made him the ideal honest broker, in Oppius’s opin-
ion. He insisted that his greatest concern was for the preservation of Ci-
cero’s honor, that his advice was not meant to undermine Cicero’s honor
for the benefit of Caesar.
Oppius worked together with Cornelius Balbus, another mutual friend
of Cicero and Caesar, to encourage the general toward a policy of recon-
ciliation and moderate treatment of political opponents, which he, in fact,
already favored. Indeed, in a letter addressed to Balbus and Oppius in the
early spring of 49 BCE, by which time hostilities had commenced but not
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Oppius and Hirtius
gone too far, Caesar asked them pointedly for detailed suggestions on how
to win the conflict “by kindness and generosity” rather than cruelty, and for
comments on his own notions.
Even after Cicero chose Pompey’ side, and then recanted, returning to
Italy in late 48 BCE in hopes of Caesar’s pardon, Oppius stood by him. Cae-
sar’s own return had been delayed by important matters in Egypt, so Cicero
stayed in the Italian port of Brundisium (modern Brindisi) for quite a while
waiting for Caesar. In the meantime, he debated moving to Rome and
corresponded back and forth with Oppius (and Balbus), who encouraged
him, as before, to trust in Caesar’s good intentions and the high respect in
which Caesar held him. Oppius wrote repeatedly to Caesar (at the urging
of Cicero himself and their mutual friend, T. Pomponius Atticus) on Ci-
cero’s behalf and against those in Caesar’s entourage who slandered Cicero
with an eye to destroying him; among these were Cicero’s own brother and
nephew, who perhaps had more interest in gaining Caesar’s favor by bad-
mouthing Cicero than seeing the latter punished for having sided briefly
with Pompey. Despite all the misgivings Cicero had about “the friends of
Caesar” really being able to trust him, and despite the anger toward Cicero
among many of the leading Caesarians, Oppius, together with Balbus and
a few others, in the end, protected Cicero’s reputation and saved his life.
He also encouraged Cicero in later years to remain an active member of the
Senate.
Hirtius played a part in this, too; he seems to have had charge of Cicero’s
young nephew, Quintus, within Caesar’s entourage over several years and
kept Cicero apprised of things through letters. As noted, Hirtius contrib-
uted to the historical literature of his age and to the memory of Caesar, too,
but he also certainly had a flashier career as a military man. He served with
Caesar in Gaul in the late 50s BCE and visited Rome on the latter’s behalf
at the end of that decade as matters tended toward Civil War. Apparently,
his mission was to confer with Pompey, but instead of meeting with the lat-
ter as soon as he arrived in town (on the evening of December 6, 50 BCE),
Hirtius arranged, through Cornelius Balbus, to meet with Pompey’s father-
in-law, Metellus Scipio, very early on the following morning. This felt like
an insult to Pompey, being bypassed by Caesar’s officer, his wife’s father
chosen as the go-between, instead of there being a direct conversation with
himself. Even worse, in Pompey’s eyes, the scheduled meeting did not take
place; Hirtius simply left town the night before. Convinced that his former
association with Caesar was truly at an end, Pompey particularly confided
in his old friend, Cicero, about all this, because of the latter’s friendly con-
nection with Hirtius.
His connection to Cicero, though perhaps not as close as Cicero’s link
with Oppius, still placed Hirtius uncomfortably in between Cicero and
Caesar, especially after the suicide of Cato, Caesar’s staunchest political
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Oppius and Hirtius
opponent. Caesar entered into a written debate with Cicero, along with
other key senators, over the memory of Cato. Cicero had composed a pan-
egyric (an essay of praise) called “Cato,” while Caesar had drafted a rebut-
tal, the “Anti-Cato.” In the aftermath of Caesar’s last victory in the Civil
War (over the sons of Pompey in 45 BCE), the matter took on special sig-
nificance; Caesar seemed to rule the world, so where was his adversary to
fit into Roman history? Hirtius provided Cicero with a preliminary idea
of Caesar’s arguments and apparently with an advanced copy of the text,
which Cicero, however, intended to copy and circulate in an effort to un-
dermine Caesar.
Nevertheless, following Caesar’s assassination, Hirtius turned to Ci-
cero for support and guidance. Not surprisingly, the latter encouraged him
to oppose the ambitious Marc Antony, Caesar’s friend, closest associate,
and would-be successor, and to cooperate, instead, with Caesar’s assassins,
whom Cicero regarded as saviors of the Republic. Hirtius favored peace
and so acted as a sort of intermediary between Antony and the self-styled
Liberators, visiting one of the latter, Dec. Brutus Albinus, the day after the
event and conveying warnings about their safety and Antony’s intentions;
Hirtius promised Albinus that he would arrange for the Liberators to re-
ceive special foreign commissions from the government, which would allow
them to leave Rome peacefully and safely and thus diffuse some of the pop-
ular anger against them. For his part, Albinus did not believe Hirtius would
achieve this for them and requested, as a precaution, a bodyguard for the
leading Liberators, including M. Junius Brutus and C. Cassius Longinus.
Hirtius insisted that he would work for peace at any price and urged Albi-
nus and Cicero, both of whom were in close contact with Brutus and Cas-
sius, to keep them from starting any new troubles.
By the end of the year, Brutus Albinus had refused to hand over his prov-
ince of Cisalpine Gaul (northernmost Italy) to Marc Antony and the latter
responded by marching against him and forcing him to take refuge in the
city of Mutina (modern Modena) with his garrison. The majority of the
Senate favored the cause of Albinus and ordered the consuls of that year
(43 BCE) to raise armed forces against Antony. One of those consuls was
Hirtius. At the urging of Octavian, whom the Senate had given a special
military commission for this conflict, Hirtius marched northward to relieve
the siege of Mutina while the other consul, C. Vibius Pansa, continued to
levy troops in Rome.
Their first target, the city of Bononia (modern Bologna), fell without a
fight, its garrison having abandoned it, despite professed loyalty to Antony.
Some of his cavalry did attack them, but the consular legions routed these.
When they arrived near Mutina itself, Antony’s defense force guarded
the river crossing to prevent them from coming any closer. Hirtius tried
several methods to communicate with Brutus Albinus, so that he would
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Oppius and Hirtius
continue to hold out against the siege; the only method that succeeded was
a stealth diver who swam the river at night with a written message. Once
that worked, the two commanders maintained contact with each other in
this way and coordinated their moves against Antony.
For his part, Antony decided to turn his attention toward Hirtius’s
forces, leaving the siege under command of his brother Lucius. Over sev-
eral days, the cavalry of both sides skirmished with one another across the
river and there were desertions from Octavian’s troops to Antony. Similar
skirmishes took place between the foraging parties of both armies, ending
in victory for Antony’s men. Finally, to press home this success before the
reinforcements under Pansa could arrive, Antony ordered an assault on the
enemy camp. This accomplished nothing, since Hirtius and Octavian kept
their troops behind the fortifications, awaiting the arrival of Pansa.
Undeterred by this, Antony next turned his sights on Pansa. In April 43
BCE, he enticed the latter’s army into an ambush north of Bononia, seri-
ously wounding their commander, killing many of the reinforcements, and
compelling the survivors to seek refuge within an encampment. Antony
then committed a significant error by turning back against Hirtius and Oc-
tavian instead of first finishing off Pansa. For while Octavian maintained
camp, Hirtius attacked Antony’s forces immediately as they prepared to
march, allowing them no time to recover from fighting. They were soundly
defeated, though Antony and the remnants of his cavalry did make it to
Mutina afterward.
The “army of the Republic” received great praise through messengers
from the Senate, and its soldiers saluted all three of their commanders,
even Octavian (who had, in fact, done very little in any of these operations)
as victors (imperatores). The Senate even decreed the public burial of the
fallen and awards of valor to their families.
Yet, the challenge facing Hirtius and his comrades was not over. A con-
tingent of troops had arrived from M. Aemilius Lepidus, former associate
of Caesar and sometime friend of Antony, who then governed the province
of Nearer Spain (eastern Spain today); no one was sure, at first, whether
this force was intended to join Antony or Hirtius, despite the fact that the
Senate had ordered Lepidus to support the latter. When his troops joined
Antony’s, the latter felt emboldened to accept the challenge from Hirtius
and Octavian to come out of his camp and fight them. The result was ter-
rible for both sides, with many more dead, but Antony suffered the greater
loss, including the loss of his camp, and fled for his life from Italy.
Pansa had not participated in this battle because of his wounds from
the previous encounter with Antony; those injuries were fatal, in fact, and
he died not long after the victory of his comrades. Unfortunately, Hirtius
also died, in the fighting over Antony’s camp. This left the Senate’s army
without either of its designated commanders and opened an opportunity
604
Optimates
for Octavian to seize the reins and do things his own way. Some ancient
authors even asserted that Octavian had arranged the deaths of both con-
suls for that purpose, though the available evidence remains insufficient to
confirm such rumors. The troops strongly professed their allegiance to him
rather than Brutus Albinus, whom the Senate ordered to take command
in place of Hirtius and Pansa. Following Octavian, the army marched on
Rome to defend his interests and gain for him honors and power, the true
beginning of his rise to dominance as the first emperor of Rome.
Oppius and Hirtius, the one an equestrian, the other a senator, would
have lived otherwise obscure if not for their association with Julius Cae-
sar. That friendship opened doors to each of them, and they seized the
chance to play critical parts in the history-making decisions of their times.
They served as prototypes for the new sort of men, skilful, dedicated,
hardworking, who would serve the emperors of Rome in the coming gen-
erations.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Balbus; Bellum Ci-
vile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Equites; Food and Drink; Honor;
Imperator; Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Letters; Memoirs; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Senate
Further Reading
Press.
Ltd.
lishing.
Publishing.
Optimates
A new distinction among Roman senators developed during the lifetime of
Julius Caesar, that of being an Optimate as opposed to being a Popularis.
While a Popularis claimed to favor the common citizens of the Republic,
or to be favored by them, an Optimate (from optimas in Latin) claimed to
defend the interests of the more responsible, and thus “better,” citizens
of the Republic, whether commoner or aristocrat. Along the same lines,
605
Optimates
Optimates often called themselves the boni (from the Latin word bonus,
meaning not only “good” but also “loyal,” “brave,” or “moral”).
Very far back in Roman tradition, people used the adjectives optimus
or optimas (both meaning “best,” “deserving,” or “excellent”) to denote
members of the Senate as a whole. This meant that senators were thought
the “best” in the sense of being morally superior to common citizens (“best
person”) and in the sense of coming from the preeminent families of the
community (“best families”). In the Late Republic, optimas/optimus ac-
quired further meanings, as senators tried to interpret certain crises that
ripped the Senate into hostile factions. Politicians of the first century BCE
traced these crises back to the time of the Gracchi brothers near the end of
the previous century. The Gracchi (and later politicians like them) had con-
fronted and stood against the senatorial majority on a variety of important
issues, professing to do so on behalf of the People of Rome; those senators
of the first century who claimed that the Gracchi and their political suc-
cessors merely pandered to the masses for their own advancement adopted
exclusively for themselves the old designation optimas, while pejoratively
labeling “Gracchan-style” senators as populares (which we might translate
as something like “popularity-seekers”).
Populares did not function as a political party, in our modern sense, and
frequently competed with one another fiercely for the people’s votes; their
disunity stood in stark contrast to the image presented by the self-styled
Optimates, who, in fact, were a much more cohesive group and more con-
sistent in their objectives and methods. They defined themselves as reacting
against the Popularis “demagogues” in an effort to protect the Republic
from collapse; they insisted that Gracchan-style reforms incited the popu-
lace to mischief. Thus, being an Optimate demanded a conservative ap-
proach to politics and a hard-line against change, especially radical change.
The principal Optimates in Caesar’s time belonged to two generations:
on the one hand, men like Q. Caecilius Metellus Pius, Q. Lutatius Catulus
the Younger, Q. Hortensius, and L. Licinius Lucullus, and, on the other,
men like M. Calpurnius Bibulus, L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, M. Favonius,
M. Junius Brutus, L. Cassius Longinus, and especially, M. Porcius Cato
the Younger. One of the key links among the older generation of Opti-
mates was their shared antipathy toward General Pompey, sometime part-
ner, sometime rival of Caesar, who, in their view, was only out for himself
and freely upset the institutions and customs of their sociopolitical system
whenever it suited his ambitions. Pompey thus overreached the tradition of
“fair play” among senators in seeking always more glory and more oppor-
tunities for command than anyone else of the elite. The younger genera-
tion of Optimates, instead, focused their attention on the rising career of
Caesar; Pompey became a necessary evil for them, a weapon to use against
Caesar, the much-more serious threat.
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Optimates
When we trace their “lineage” back to the era of the Gracchi, we see
that the Optimates relied on certain tactics to hold on to power and keep
policy moving in their direction. First, they resorted to assassination (as in
the case of Tiberius Gracchus, who was murdered by top-ranking senators,
later heralded as heroes by the first-century Optimates). Second, they de-
veloped the senatus consultum ultimum (as in the cases of Caius Gracchus,
Saturninus, and Lepidus the Elder), through which the Senate declared a
state of emergency to empower the magistrates—Optimate magistrates—
to destroy “trouble-makers,” with legal sanction. Third, they developed
the hostis declaration, identifying a fellow Roman as a public enemy (begun
by the Optimate Sulla as a measure of domestic politics—since the idea of
an enemy had previously applied to foreigners not Romans—allowing of-
ficials and private citizens to hunt down and eliminate opponents). Fourth,
they carried out proscriptions (again begun by Sulla as a sort of improve-
ment on the hostis decrees; now he listed his enemies within the Roman
elite and granted permission to anyone who chose to kill such persons with
impunity—and to confiscate their assets). Fifth, and most common of all
Optimate tactics, was obstructionism (mastered especially by Cato the
Younger and his closest associates), the use of legal means to delay or pre-
vent altogether Popularis legislation or the actions of rival magistrates. In-
terestingly, all of these tactics (except proscription) were applied to Julius
Caesar by his Optimate opponents.
One might say that the political “war” between Caesar and the Opti-
mates began as early as 77 BCE, when he brought charges for the first time
against former followers of Sulla, but the heat increased dramatically from
the time of his aedileship in 65 BCE, and the Optimates began from then
on to take more actions directed specifically against him. At the time, they
persuaded the Senate as a whole to pass a special law that limited the num-
ber of gladiators anyone might have in the city (making the law deliberately
vague, so as to appear that Caesar was not its target). In fact, they thereby
prevented him from putting on a gladiatorial spectacle with all the fighters
he had assembled because they feared he might use them against the state.
Over the next few years, Caesar retaliated by engaging in a series of
moves to undermine Optimate credibility, such as reviving the reputation
of his uncle Marius (labeled by them a Popularis, though he was not en-
tirely one) by restoring the latter’s victory monuments, bringing charges
against one of Saturninus’s murderers as well as more followers of Sulla
who had profited from the proscriptions, shoving aside one of the Opti-
mate stars, Catulus the Younger, by gaining the post of Pontifex Maximus,
and finally standing up for the lives of co-conspirators of Catiline against
Optimate determination (led by Cato in his first recorded confrontation
with Caesar) to have them executed. On this last occasion, the Optimates
saw Caesar as encouraging “softness” against troublemakers and feared that
607
Optimates
the Senate would have caved in to his rhetoric had it not been for Opti-
mate resoluteness. When Caesar followed this up the next year by trying
to tarnish the reputation of Catulus the Younger yet again, the Optimates
rallied to the latter’s side, literally running down from the Capitoline Hill
to do so.
Returning to Caesar’s replacement of Marius’s trophies in 65 BCE, the
reaction this elicited from the prominent Optimate, Catulus, reveals some-
thing critical about the Optimate point of view. Catulus did hold personal
grudges against Marius (the latter had chased him out of Rome and forced
his father, who always lived in Marius’s shadow as a general, into com-
mitting suicide), and this can partly explain his stridency in speaking out
against Caesar’s action before the Senate. Yet, his behavior was not entirely
motivated by personal reasons; his open accusation that Caesar had been
working covertly and now was working blatantly to bring down the Re-
public (he said that Caesar had his “artillery” aimed at it for its capture) re-
minds us that Optimates regarded themselves truly as the defenders of the
traditions of Rome, protectors of the Roman State, as opposed to Popu-
lares, like Caesar, who did not mind ruining the Republic if it brought
personal aggrandizement. The Optimates genuinely saw a threat posed by
someone like Caesar, who sought to become the “first man in the State” by
any radical, rabble-rousing means.
Caesar was not the only powerful politician whom the Optimates saw
operating in this fashion. As noted earlier, Pompey preceded Caesar as a
threat in their eyes, and the Optimates played hardball with him when they
could, such as upon his return from the East in 62 BCE; they saw to it that
the Senate refused granting land to his veterans or giving official approval
to his activities as provincial commander. Around the same time, the Op-
timates also targeted M. Licinius Crassus, whom they long suspected of
several nefarious schemes at self-aggrandizement (most of them financial),
even in his efforts to secure senatorial revision of tax-collecting contracts
for the equestrian publicani. What the Optimates did not foresee was how
these forms of obstructionism would turn to the advantage of their chief
adversary, Julius Caesar. For, when they rejected his request for special-
dispensation to stand for the consulship and to celebrate a triumph for
his military exploits in Spain (two mutually exclusive things under strict
Roman regulations), he simply teamed up with Pompey and Crassus to
form a powerful political coalition (the so-called First Triumvirate) against
the Optimates and get everything the three wanted. In very real ways, the
Optimates fired Caesar’s ambitions and pushed him to take even more radi-
cal steps against them and the Republic.
From the time of Caesar’s consulship in 59 BCE until the Civil War that
broke out between him and Pompey ten years later, the Optimates learned
608
Optimates
to mimic their opponent’s maneuvers, responding in kind to his use of in-

timidation, force, and bribery. They stood so strongly together in the Sen-
ate against his and his associates’ “radical” proposals that direct appeal to
the voters to get any consideration at all for his measures, as well as increas-
ing violence from both sides, became commonplace. A sort of anarchy be-
came normal and compromise rare.
Really on the outside of both the Populares and the Optimates stood
M. Tullius Cicero and other senators like him; he sought to define him-
self in some ways by both labels, and especially to redefine “Optimate” in
a broad sense. Cicero included among “Optimates” not only the conser-
vative senatorial aristocrats but also members of the equestrian order and
leaders of the Italian communities (domi nobiles), and merchants, farmers,
even freedmen, in short, all citizens of property who had no radical schemes
or criminal intent, and instead sought peace and prosperity. This quiescent
majority, he argued, truly favored and showed concern for those of high
standing, and respected the preponderant influence and authority of the
Roman Senate, as long as the latter preserved the treasury by frugal spend-
ing, protected private property, and especially prevented chaos, anarchy,
and violence. Cicero insisted that such “Optimates” were the true benefac-
tors to and defenders of the interests of the general public, in other words,
actually the true “Populares.” The so-called Populares were only using the
People of Rome to achieve personal goals, and would just as soon abandon
the People if doing so achieved what they wanted, while those “Optimates”
who merely engaged in obstruction of opponents, in fact, fomented trou-
bles rather than solving them. Cicero went so far, then, as to refer to Cato
and his associates, and Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus, all as Optimate lead-
ers, or at least, potentially, if they strove for unity (concordia) and the true
common good.
It was Cicero’s conception of what “Optimate” really meant that al-
lowed the inclusion of Pompey within that category of senator. The lat-
ter had old wounds to heal among the Optimates, whom he had offended
deeply over the years, especially by employing threats and actual force on
behalf of Caesar against them and their supporters. Yet, they needed him
desperately to take Caesar down, and Pompey began to consider breaking
from his old partner for the sake of his own reputation and career. Pompey
came to adhere to Cicero’s definition of the Optimate as a “responsible”
citizen as well as the more classic Optimate designation as “defender” of
the Republic.
In the final chapter of the saga, Optimates, such as Cato, Domitius Ahe-
nobarbus, and the Marcellus cousins, stood on obstinate principles with
an aristocratic arrogance that drove others against them, especially Cae-
sar; they were good at alienation and deep offense but they were also very
609
Optimates
determined and very clever in their strategies. They wanted to turn the ap-
paratus of the Roman State against Julius Caesar and to destroy him in civil
war. The divided allegiances of so many other senators gave them the op-
portunity to push this agenda and achieve their goals, at least in part. They
really had no reason to believe that they would lose, especially with a great
general like Pompey on their side, and, in the event, they kept Caesar fight-
ing for his life and power for nearly five years. The last of the Optimates,
men like Brutus and Cassius, eventually did eliminate him through the old-
fashioned means of assassination.
By the last two decades of Caesar’s lifetime, then, the Optimates had be-
come, primarily, an obstructionist wing within the Senate; they wore their
label as such a badge of honor, in such hostile opposition to the “Popula-
res,” that they failed Cicero in his dream of concordia. In their dedication
and their idealism, the Optimates also seem to have ignored the realities of
Roman politics in their time. Even they, with all the family ties and other
connections that linked them together, found themselves at odds on issues
and over leadership for the state. Even they faced circumstances in which
they had to gain the cooperation of more opportunistic senators, like Pom-
pey, to achieve their goals. Selfish, personal ambitions for office, power, and
luxury splintered the Senate over and over again in the Late Republic, mak-
ing unity behind the Optimates difficult if based solely on principles; Caesar
recognized these conditions, exploited them, and formed whatever senato-
rial coalitions he could based on giving supporters what they wanted. This
gave him the advantage over the Optimates, whose only option, in the end,
was to kill him.
See also: Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Capitoline Hill; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE);
Cato (95–46 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Catulus the Younger (d. ca.
61 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Domi-
tius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE); Equites; Hostis; Lucullus (118–57 BCE);
Marcellus Cousins; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Propaganda; Sen-
ate; Senatus Consultum Ultimum; Spain; Taxation/Tax Farming; Trium-
virate
Further Reading
Brunt, P. A. 1971. Social Conflicts in the Roman Republic. New York: W.W. Nor-
ton.
Clarendon Press.
Golden, G. K. 2013. Crisis Management during the Roman Republic: The Role
of Political Institutions in Emergencies. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
lishing.
610
Oratory
Oratory
In Caesar’s time, the measure of a Roman statesman would be taken not
only by how well he fought and led others in battle, by how many clients
he was attended, and by how much wealth he had, but also, and very sig-
nificantly, by how he spoke in public.
Roman society had a long tradition of rhetorical training probably going
back to the earliest days of the Republic. As part of an aristocratic boy’s ti-
rocinium, he would shadow an experienced senator who had either a natu-
ral talent for public speaking or had practiced quite a bit to produce that
skill, or both. The boy might begin this quite early, depending on his fam-
ily’s aspirations for him.
By the second century BCE, as part of the expansion in Rome of formal
education under Greek cultural influence, such a boy, certainly by his late
teens, would be working with a rhetor, an expert in public speaking and
polished writing. In addition, sophisticated Greek manuals on theory and
practice of written and oral communication were available. Though tradi-
tional Romans held Greek oratory in some suspicion as wasteful and im-
moral (e.g., when a Roman named Plotius Gallus attempted to establish
his own school of rhetoric, the censors shut it down), interest in studying
under professional Greek rhetors grew intensely and undeniably, especially
as the skills they imparted could dramatically improve a young advocate’s
career in the Roman courts.
A rhetor typically began by putting his pupils through preliminary ex-
ercises to improve their delivery of texts they knew well, such as fables,
historical narratives, anecdotes, and customary sayings, explaining and an-
alyzing along the way the fundamental elements of different types of de-
livery. Next, he would teach them to compose their own texts, such as
descriptions of things, lengthy questions about events, or introductions of
laws. In addition to delivery, careful attention was paid to the selection and
arrangement of words and phrases, style of composition, and so on. Basi-
cally, rhetors taught how to be a craftsman of words. Finally, students of
oratory engaged in declamation, the practice of constructing set-speeches
on any and every subject, drawn from real life and even myth; the speeches
took the form either of persuasive advice (suasoria) or determined argu-
ment (controversia). At the end of one’s training with a rhetor, one was
ready to successfully woo a crowd in the assembly or defend one’s case in
the courts and Senate.
Today, Cicero is recognized as the greatest Latin master of oratory in
the Late Republic. He developed a style of public speaking, unique and
personal, though still founded upon the verbally complex and highly emo-
tive “Asianizing” style practiced by rhetors in the eastern Aegean and Asia
Minor, like Apollonius Molon of Rhodes, with whom Cicero had studied
611
Oratory
during one of the latter’s two visits to the city of Rome. Cicero’s writings,
whether actual speeches or partial treatises on the subject of oratory, incor-
porated new Greek as well as traditional Roman methods, and had a tre-
mendous influence on later standards of public speaking and education in
general, both Roman and modern.
In Cicero’s mind, and in the view of many later Roman writers, how-
ever, Caesar stood just as high as an orator. Like Cicero, Caesar seems
to have had a natural gift for public speaking, but he (and Cicero) also
had the great good fortune of growing up in the heyday of the rhetorical
training available to the elite of the Late Republic. At the start, he mod-
eled his style on that of one of his distant cousins, Caesar Strabo Vopiscus,
famous not only for his rhetorical talent but also for his sense of humor;
Cicero noted that Caesar himself was just as fond of making witty re-
marks as Strabo had been. Like Cicero, Caesar also had access to some of
the best Greek experts in the field of rhetoric, including again Apollonius
Molon; Caesar visited Apollonius on the Greek island of Rhodes when
he was about twenty-two years old. Exactly how long he stayed there is
unclear, but he certainly had chosen to be there to study oratory from a
master.
SOME SAYINGS FROM JULIUS CAESAR

On human nature (from Caesar’s Bellum Gallicum):
All pity is quenched where danger is supreme.
Love of money is the root of all hatred and discord among classes.
Human nature readily believes what accords with its hopes.
On his power:
I would rather be the first man here [in a shabby, little Alpine village]
than the second man in Rome. (From the Imperial biographer Plu-
tarch)
He [Caesar] was so elated with joy, since he had gained what he had
sought [the Gallic territories and Illyricum as his provinces] over the
groans and unwillingness of his adversaries, that he did not temper
himself in boasting he would jump all over their heads. (From the
Imperial historian Suetonius)
As first citizen, it would be more difficult to push me back from the
first rank to the second than from the second rank to the rear of
the pack.
612
Oratory
On war:
A victory in sight renews strength and daring. (From Caesar’s Bellum
Gallicum)
Want of food encourages combat even under the worst conditions.
From our perspective, Pompey made a mistake in doing this [order-
ing his soldiers to stand firm rather than run to the attack] because
every one of us has a certain innate, natural enthusiasm and fire in
the spirit that is sparked by the desire to fight. Generals ought to
encourage this and not suppress it. (From Caesar’s Bellum Civile)
On the Republic (from the Imperial biographer Suetonius):

Caesar often noted that his survival mattered more to the Republic
than it did to himself: should anything happen to him, there would
be no peace and quiet, but rather another civil war under consider-
ably worse conditions.
The Republic is nothing, only a name without substance or form.
In the two years following his return to Rome, Caesar, still quite a young
man, began to make his public reputation, not as a commander of men, of
which he already had some experience as a junior officer in the military, but
as an advocate in the courts of law, which basically meant in those days as a
clever public speaker. In the two well-publicized trials of Dolabella and An-
tonius, both extortionate provincial governors, as well as former supporters
of Caesar’s boyhood enemy, Sulla the dictator, Caesar scored the “moral”
victory and the highest marks for technical virtuosity and eloquence, de-
spite the fact that both his targets managed to get off scot-free. From then
on, everyone in Rome understood his brilliance as an orator and many
came to believe that if he had devoted himself to that profession, he might
have surpassed even Cicero.
Whether addressing a small gathering or an enormous crowd, Caesar be-
came famous for pitching his voice high and employing passionate gestures,
which were a special element of Roman oratory; a variety of hand and finger
positions represented numbers to a crowd too large to hear all one’s words,
and Caesar apparently expanded on these to convey larger ideas and emo-
tions. Still, Cicero and others regarded Caesar’s style of oratory as “Attic,”
that is, “Athenian,” which was characterized by being more rapid in pace
and graceful but also more precise, less verbose, and less melodramatic or
flowery than the “Asianizing” approach of Cicero himself. To readers of
Cicero’s speeches and Caesar’s commentaries today, even in translation, the
difference is quite apparent.
613
Oratory
Oratory remained the standard element in all the higher education of

Roman society. During the Late Republic, depth of thought and useful-
ness of ideas had to be matched by verbal cleverness, presentation, and wit
to win cases at court or debates in the Senate or to win over the will of the
People of Rome.
See also: Apollonius of Rhodes; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Courts; Edu-
cation; Popular Assemblies; Senate
Further Reading
Clarke, M. L. 1953. Rhetoric at Rome. London and New York: Routledge.
Kahn. A. D. 1986. The Education of Julius Caesar. New York: Schocken Books.
Kennedy, G. A. 1963. The Art of Persuasion in Greece. Princeton, NJ: Princeton
University Press.
Kennedy, G. A. 1972. The Art of Rhetoric in the Roman World. Princeton, NJ:
614
P
Parthia
Parthia
Ancient sources claim that Julius Caesar was planning a massive expedition
against the Parthians at the time of his assassination in 44 BCE. This was to
be not only a war of revenge and a war of imperial expansion but especially
a war for personal glory.
Parthia or the Parthian Empire stretched across roughly one million
square miles of territory from the eastern borders of what are today Syria,
Lebanon, and Israel through Iraq and Iran to the border between Pakistan
and India. Ethnic Iranians, that is, cousins of the ancient Persians, the Par-
thians originally inhabited Hyrcania (modern Turkmenistan and northern
Iran); by the mid-third century BCE, they had moved further south into
Iranian territory, at that time controlled by the Greek ruling family of the
Seleucids, who themselves had succeeded to the power of Alexander the
Great over that region.
The Parthians, like their other Iranian cousins, followed the faith known
today as Zoroastrianism. This religion teaches that the human world is
caught between the forces of light, led by Ahura Mazda, and the forces
of darkness, led by Ahriman; individual humans and entire human societ-
ies have the freedom to choose which of these sides they will follow, but,
in the long run, light will overcome darkness, no matter what temporary
gain doing evil might attain. Interestingly, however, the rulers of Parthia
during the period of the Roman Republic did not seem to regard their fre-
quent rebellions against the Seleucids as part of a holy war against “devils”;
indeed, they adopted many Greek ways. Instead, they saw themselves pri-
marily as the heirs of the old Persian Empire, believing that it was their di-
vine mission to restore that empire by reuniting all the territories lost to the
Greeks. As Seleucid power declined in the second century BCE, the fiercely
expansionist Parthians, relying on their archers and heavily armored cavalry
(cataphracts), thus seized more and more territory in the Middle East.
Rome’s first contact with them came with Sulla’s diplomatic mission to
the Parthians in the early first century BCE; he had been dispatched to settle
a number of issues in Asia Minor, where the Romans had two provinces and
a number of treaty allies, and he apparently negotiated with the Parthians
to keep them out of the affairs of that region. This cordial relationship must
have held, because about three decades later, the Roman general Pompey
easily made an alliance with the Parthians against their common foe, the
expansionist Kingdom of Armenia under Tigranes II.
Clearly, however, the balance of power shifted in an unstable way when
Pompey eliminated the threat of Armenia by defeating Tigranes, maintain-
ing him on the throne as a puppet of the Roman Empire, and absorbed the
last remnant of the Seleucid state in Syria as a province of the empire. There
were no more common foes and no more buffer zones between Parthia and
617
Parthia
Rome. Rome’s diplomatic influence encompassed Palestine and Egypt, for-

mer territories of the old Persian Empire; it controlled in even more direct
ways Asia Minor, Armenia, and Syria, also pieces of the old Persian Empire.
The Parthians could now regard the Roman Empire as standing in the way
of their divine mission.
The Romans saw the storm that was brewing between the two em-
pires. The Parthians did not leave Armenia alone, especially after the
death of Tigranes, and they frequently intrigued in Syrian and especially
Judaean affairs. No wonder that Caesar’s associate, Crassus, intended to
wage a preemptive war against the Parthians. In 56 BCE, right around
the time that Tigranes of Armenia died, the Triumvirs, Caesar, Pompey,
and Crassus, met in a conference at the northern Italian town of Luca
(modern Lucca), where they agreed that the latter should have a five-
year governorship in Syria; Crassus planned to use that province as the
jumping-off point for his Parthian War. Such a conflict would not only
end the Parthian menace but also bring great personal glory to Crassus,
who craved to outdo Pompey’s victories in the eastern Mediterranean
and Caesar’s in Gaul.
At the head of 40,000 Roman troops, he invaded Parthian territory in
54 and again in 53 BCE, achieving little in the way of glory. Part of the rea-
son for this was that allies, like Tigranes’s son and successor, Artavasdes II
of Armenia, had been compelled to go over to the Parthian side. Crassus
did penetrate deeper into the Middle East, however, than any Roman be-
fore him, even crossing the Euphrates River into Mesopotamia (modern
Iraq) and establishing garrisons in the cities there for his march into the
heart of Parthia. He was, however, lured into an ambush; his army was sur-
rounded by 10,000 mounted archers and 1,000 cataphract lancers. The
Romans could not match the cavalry tactics of the Parthians or the speed of
their arrows or the strength of their spears; Crassus’s own son committed
suicide after a fierce battle in which the advanced force under his command
had been destroyed. The Parthians displayed to Crassus the severed head of
his son and then cut up his army once again.
To extricate himself and his remaining men, Crassus retreated under
cover of darkness to the strategically situated fortress-emporium of Carrhae
(modern Harran in Syria); when the Parthians began to besiege this place,
Crassus withdrew his men again. The Parthians repeatedly made offers of
peace (reneging each time) until finally Crassus’s own troops forced him to
accept them, but the Parthians, in fact, had arranged to capture Crassus,
and then beheaded him; they then turned to destroy the rest of the Roman
forces. Few soldiers escaped, mostly thanks to the efforts of Crassus’s pro-
quaestor (lieutenant) C. Cassius Longinus (the infamous Cassius who later
assassinated Caesar), who also managed to repel the Parthians from Roman
Syria.
618
Patricians
To Roman honor, the disaster at Carrhae had to be avenged; hence,

Caesar’s projected invasion in 44 BCE, which never took place; hence, Marc
Antony’s actual but unsuccessful invasions of 36–34 BCE; hence, Octavian-
Augustus’s peace negotiations with the Parthians in the following decade,
all of which set the stage for the continued grudge match between Parthia
and Rome for the next two-and-a-half centuries.
See also: Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE); Antony/Antonius, Marcus
(ca. 83–30 BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Gaul/
Gallia Comata; Jews; Luca; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Colledge, M.A.R. 1986. The Parthian Period. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill
Publishers.
Sheldon, R. M. 2010. Rome’s Wars in Parthia: Blood in the Sand. Portland, OR:
Vallentine Mitchell Publishers.
Sherwin-White, A. N. 1984. Roman Foreign Policy in the East. Norman: University
of Oklahoma Press.
Ward, A. M. 1977. Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic. Columbia: Uni-
versity of Missouri Press.
Patricians
Romans used the term patrician to categorize the families of highest sta-
tus in their society. Though the patrician families emerged under the early
Roman monarchy, they dominated the Roman political and social scenes
especially during the Republic, pretty much all the way down to the time of
Julius Caesar, himself a patrician.
Patrician status was primarily hereditary and thus passed down through
the generations, and patricians often engaged in special marriage cere-
monies with one another to demonstrate their status. However, patri-
cians also engaged in “mixed” marriages with individuals of plebeian
(meaning, basically, non-patrician) status. Patrician lineage, then, did not
have to be traced back through both parents, but could be through only
one, and there seems to have been a custom allowing children of pa-
trician fathers to claim that status even if their mothers were plebeian.
For example, Julius Caesar, whose father came from the patrician Julii
and mother came from the plebeian Aurelii, held the status of patrician
himself, whereas his friend and lieutenant, Marc Antony, whose mother
also came from the Julii but father came from the plebeian Antonii, held
plebeian status.
619
Patricians
Patrician families provided the leaders of the Roman community in earli-

est times; their elders were the elders of the community as a whole, hence
the connection of the word patrician to the Roman word for elders, patres.
By the dawn of the Republic in the late sixth century BCE, patrician families
were the wealthiest and the most influential in Rome; the kings of Rome
had earlier selected their advisory council (the Senate) from those patri-
cians, and those patricians had led the overthrow of the monarchy that, in
turn, led to the Republic’s creation. The officials of state, the magistrates
who were charged with executing the will of the Senate and People of
Rome, were also overwhelmingly patrician in the first few centuries of the
Republic; indeed, patricians attempted to monopolize the offices of state
in the face of agitation by the wealthiest plebeians for greater participation
within the ranks of the ruling elite.
By the early third century BCE, such agitations produced laws that welded
patricians and the most prominent plebeians together into a new aristocracy
of wealth and privilege. Patrician and plebeian families of influence allied
and intermarried (as noted earlier in the examples of Caesar and Antony);
despite their quarrels, plebeian leaders continued to seek the patronage of
patrician clans, as C. Marius did by marrying into the Julian clan. Gradu-
ally, neither social group sought to rock the boat of elite status and politics.
The original distinction between patrician and plebeian may have de-
clined, but it never disappeared, officially or otherwise. Until the second
quarter of the second century BCE, one of the two annual consulships (the
most powerful elective offices) was always reserved for a patrician candi-
date. Even after that hold was broken by plebeian pressure, a few offices of
state, such as curule aedile (one of the magistrates in charge of the fabric
of the city) and interrex (an emergency official chosen during a period of
suspended elections), remained exclusively patrician, as did most of Rome’s
priesthoods. On the other hand, patricians themselves were not allowed to
be elected as tribunes of the plebs (officials chosen to defend the rights of
commoners) nor to attend the Meeting of the Plebeians (one of the most
important Popular Assemblies of voters during the Late Republic).
It is interesting to note how concerned Roman leaders were even in the
Late Republic that patrician status be preserved as a key Roman tradition,
a defining feature of their society. The number of patrician individuals and
patrician families, still descended from the early settlers of the Roman com-
munity, had fallen dramatically by that time; modern scholars estimate that
there were only about fourteen patrician clans (gentes) left in Caesar’s day.
Many of them had simply died off in the years of civil strife since Sulla’s
time. So, while serving as dictator, Caesar was granted authority to cre-
ate new patricians under a special law backed by the Senate and People of
Rome. This meant elevating plebeian families to patrician status.
It is also interesting to consider how many of the “troublemakers” in
the Republic’s later history came from the patriciate. L Cornelius Sulla,
620
Patrons and Clients
the Roman general who first turned a citizen-army against the state, was a
patrician. A number of his key henchmen were patricians, most infamous
among them being L. Sergius Catilina or Catiline, who later attempted to
seize control of the state by means of assassination and warfare. One of
Sulla’s arch-enemies, L. Cornelius Cinna, was also a patrician, and he estab-
lished a regime that dominated Rome for five, almost six, years. Lastly, of
course, Cinna’s son-in-law, C. Julius Caesar, held patrician status. By con-
trast, some of Caesar’s staunchest opponents, and self-proclaimed defend-
ers of the Republic, were considered plebeian in status, such as Q. Lutatius
Catulus the Younger, M. Tullius Cicero, M. Porcius Cato, M. Junius Bru-
tus, C. Cassius Longinus, and, of course, Cn. Pompey.
Another link among the well-known patricians of the Late Republic was
the fact that their family lines, though ancient, had fallen into partial ob-
scurity in recent generations. Nostalgic for the sort of respect that their
ancestors had received in ages past, certain patricians, such as those just
mentioned, looked to radical forms of behavior, violence against rivals, sei-
zure of power, to restore that level of respect for themselves personally and
for their families. In doing so, they did make it into the history books, even
ours today, but some tarnished their families’ reputations in the process.
BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE);
Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna
the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Dictator; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius
(ca.157–86 BCE); Names; Plebs; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assem-
blies; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Raaflaub, K. 1986. Social Struggles in Archaic Rome. Berkeley and Los Angeles:
Routledge.
Patrons and Clients

When in Rome, who you knew mattered more than what you knew. An-
cient Roman society was so heavily stratified that few people would have
had any reason to cooperate or even associate with one another if they had
621
Patrons and Clients
not developed a way of bridging the gaps between social classes and the
distinctions within them. The Romans achieved this through patrocinium,
what we would call patronage or more precisely patron–client relations. It
was essential to the functioning of Roman society and to their political in-
stitutions in which the People of Rome chose officials to govern them.
Possession of a certain amount of wealth was only one of the factors that
placed a Roman individual or family within a certain segment of their so-
ciety; office or profession, military, oratorical, political or juridical prestige,
family background, and so on, also played their part. Fairly firm gradations
divided the senatorial order within itself, and other distinctions separated
it from everyone else in Rome; this helped maintain the political and social
status quo and ensure that power remained in the hands of a few. Most Ro-
mans revered these traditions so much that they did not seek to alter the
social structure. Instead, they heightened its advantages and compensated
for its disadvantages by making what we might call alliances across the so-
cial barriers.
Ancient Romans, unlike most modern Americans, did not believe that
they had full power of individual action; they clearly recognized that their
lives had limitations and were circumscribed according to the social group
or profession to which they belonged. Under such circumstances, they ac-
cepted the need for workable forms of dependence on others who could
extend the reach of their own actions; they needed help, not from the state,
which in fact provided little in the ancient world, but from other individu-
als or families.
Those Romans who had the means, status, reputation, and so on, to
provide assistance or protection for others were referred to as patrons; the
recipients of this assistance or protection were called clients. The client (cli-
ens) may have asked the patron (patronus, patrona) for some sort of help or
the patron may have offered it to the client unasked. In either case, by ac-
cepting it, the client placed himself or herself under a moral and social ob-
ligation to the patron, and the patron, by granting the help, placed himself
or herself under similar obligation. In other words, the two parties entered
into a reciprocal arrangement through which one offered benefits (benefi-
cia) and the other returned services (officia). There was no written, legal
contract to guarantee the mutual obligations of either party; instead, trust
in one another (fides) acted as the cement of the relationship. This was an
ancient form of social interdependence that Romans did not treat lightly.
Despite the pervasiveness of patron–client relations in Rome, the Roman
writers of our literary sources shy away from using those terms; they saw
it as bad manners to characterize their relationships outright as clientela
(clientship) or patrocinium (patronage). Yet, numerous inscriptions from
clients frequently and explicitly publicize their reverential gratitude to their
patrons.
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Patrons and Clients
Patrons and clients might form connections that were very short-lived
or those links might last for a lifetime or be passed down the generations.
Someone might have a whole host of patrons at any one time, each for
different reasons, even patrons who were at odds with one another. On
the other side, patrons tried to gather around themselves as many clients
from as many different levels of society as possible, since this served as a
visible symbol of the patron’s standing in the community. Julius Caesar’s
contemporary, the lawyer and statesman, Cicero, established patron–client
relations with a variety of individuals, their families, and even their commu-
nities. He did this primarily in the law courts, by defending members of the
Roman elite, protecting the interests of propertied citizens from the towns
of Italy, and even representing the grievances of the local populations in
the province of Sicily. When he campaigned for public office, especially the
consulship, Cicero played up these connections, especially how varied and
numerous they were; in addition, many of the individuals he had helped,
together with their families, neighbors, and associates, visited Cicero at his
home, accompanied him on walks through the city of Rome and during
his public appearances in the Roman Forum, and encouraged one another
to vote for him. Not only did they believe they owed this to their patron,
but they also would have recognized the further benefits to be received if
Cicero became more successful politically; thanks to their efforts, he might
owe them something. Thus, the cycle of patron–client relations fueled
itself.
Having a large following greatly impressed other voters and encouraged
them to seek out a particular patron as (one of) their own. A patron’s
particular clientela (“following of people who owed something to him”)
also differentiated him from other patrons. Again, Cicero provides a good
example. He surrounded himself with respected, well-known clients of
property and status, which set him in contrast to his principal rival for the
consulship, Catiline, whose following supposedly consisted of many actors,
gladiators, prostitutes, and others whom Roman voters would have con-
sidered disreputable characters. Typical Romans would have agreed very
much with our modern saying, “birds of a feather flock together,” and so
would have passed judgment on Cicero and Catiline according to who as-
sociated with them as clients, rather than the wisdom or feasibility of their
political policies or proposals.
Within the elite, reference to one’s patrons and clients was not consid-
ered proper etiquette. Instead, the term friend (amicus) was used, an am-
biguous word that did not convey the pejorative sense of client as inferior,
and so could be used safely among peers (even though some such friends
were higher and some lower in status). As patronage and clientship linked
the upper and lower classes, amicitia (friendship) linked members of the
same class, especially the senatorial and equestrian classes.
623
Patrons and Clients
Like patrons and clients, friends of this kind within one’s own social
set (i.e, as opposed to those founded on personal affection) had common
interests, duties to one another founded on mutual faith, and expected
rewards from and conferred benefits on each other. There were different
levels of such amicitia depending on the level of connectedness between
the two individuals or families. According to Cicero, someone was such a
friend simply for doing a favor or owing one. He intensely disliked Crassus,
for example, and yet called him a friend because they followed certain pro-
prieties and exercised certain courtesies with one another. On the other
hand, Cicero regarded his relationship with Caesar as not just amicitia but
familiaritas, a personal friendship, even though they often vehemently dis-
agreed politically and indeed Cicero came to see Caesar as a tyrant fit to be
annihilated. Thus, even in the most hostile confrontations, political friend-
ship remained a glue that held the Roman elite together, and open and
avowed enemies were rare, or at least that was the appearance.
Even outside their own society, the Romans defined their relations with
foreign allies and conquered populations by the terms of friendship, pa-
tronage, and clientship. From the very start of the Republic, near the end
of the sixth century BCE, the city-state of Rome appointed itself protector of
the neighboring peoples of Latium in central Italy (modern Lazio). Having
helped the Latins remove the yoke of Etruscan domination, the Romans
expected compliance from them.
This pattern was duplicated many times over throughout Italy and across
the Mediterranean world; the Romans created and expanded their empire,
in their minds, to protect not only themselves but indeed and especially
client populations. The surrender (deditio) of an enemy city or force to
a Roman commander came with the expectation that either party would
offer, accept, or reject a patron–client relationship; the conquered city had
little option but to accept or be destroyed. Naturally, the Romans would
possess the military power (potestas), and therefore, the upper hand in this
relationship. If offered and accepted by both parties, a treaty sealed the ex-
change of protection and friendship from Rome for the surrendering city’s
obedience and allegiance to Rome and a military levy (munus) for Rome.
A request (applicatio) for Roman strength and aid from a potential client
state resulted in a similar treaty relationship, though usually without the re-
quirement of a contribution of troops. By the second century BCE, Romans
carefully referred to both relations formed by deditio and by applicatio as
amicitia, to avoid the negative connotation of outright inferiority implied
by the terms patron and client—thus the notion of “friends of Rome” con-
stituting most of the empire and territories along its fringes.
In the end, one might argue that the customs of patrons and clients,
which supported the political and social structures of Rome and guided
the growth of its empire, brought down the Republic. If Cicero appears
624
to us as expert in building up a clientela, he and many other successful

senators like him still paled in comparison to Julius Caesar, Pompey, and
Crassus. Crassus had the single largest personal following of his day and
the most diverse; when combined with the reserves of clients loyal to Cae-
sar and Pompey, such a massive clientela destabilized the political system
of Rome. Eventually, Caesar’s and Pompey’s clients were turned on each
other in the Civil War; after them, Antony and Octavian did the same,
until the latter emerged as the greatest of all patrons by far, and thereby,
Emperor Augustus.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE);
Elections; Plebs; Slavery/Slaves; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Badian, E. 2000. Foreign Clientelae. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
Saller, R. 2002. Personal Patronage under the Early Empire. Cambridge: Cam-
Routledge.

An ally of Pompey, Caesar’s chief rival, for nearly a decade and a half,
Pharnaces II of Bosporus took advantage of the Civil War that broke
out between the two Roman leaders to expand his own power at the ex-
pense of the Roman Empire. Unfortunately for Pharnaces, continuing the
expansionist ambitions of his predecessors cost him his ancestral realm and
his life.
Pharnaces was the son of Mithradates VI, king of Pontus, a realm which
stretched at its height (thanks to the latter’s military and diplomatic ef-
forts) from the north coast of today’s Turkey around the Black Sea through
Georgia, Ukraine, and Romania. His father had even frequently challenged
his own allies in Turkey (Asia Minor, as it was then called), including the
Romans with their provinces there, for control of the entire region. In the
third major conflict waged between Mithradates and the Roman Empire,
General Pompey forged a deal with Pharnaces, who felt threatened by his
father and sought to overthrow him. The king’s attempts to arrest his son
failed as the latter fomented a mutiny among the ranks, and even within the
royal bodyguard; Mithradates took refuge in the Crimean Peninsula (in the
Ukraine), where he was trapped by the army, now under Pharnaces’s com-
mand. In 63 BCE, at Panticapaeum (modern Kerch), Mithradates, during
his attempt to commit suicide so as to avoid the fate of being handed over
625
to the Romans by his own son, was killed by the spears and swords of the
latter’s soldiers instead. Pharnaces sent the corpse, embalmed, to Pompey
as a demonstration of his loyalty and trustworthiness.
Pompey recognized Pharnaces formally as a friend and ally of Rome but
he had no intention of allowing the son to rule the entirety of the father’s
old kingdom; that would have given him too many resources to use, poten-
tially, against the Romans, as Mithradates had done. Instead, he divided the
kingdom up into separate states under separate allied rulers, intending to
keep most of the old heartland of Pontus in Roman hands as a new prov-
ince. Pharnaces received the territory where Mithradates had made his last
stand, the Crimean Peninsula and lands to the west, north, and east, the
ancient kingdom of Bosporus. This still left Pharnaces with a prosperous
realm to govern, for Bosporus was famed for its fisheries, its metal-working,
and its connections to the vast grain fields to the north (in Scythia or Sar-
matia, inhabited then principally by cousins of the Persians).
Whether Pharnaces had long-held ambitions like his father for the cre-
ation of a vast kingdom is unknown; with Roman power intact in the re-
gion, the question was moot anyway. Even when the Civil War erupted
among the Romans, his old benefactor, Pompey, had control of the eastern
provinces of the empire and held sway over the foreign allies there. When
Caesar defeated Pompey, however, in the Battle of Pharsalus in the summer
of 48 BCE, Pharnaces recognized an opportunity to re-create his father’s
realm.
He began by threatening several kingdoms allied to Rome and the lead-
ers of these appealed to Caesar’s legate in Asia Minor, Domitius Calvi-
nus. The latter exchanged dispatches with Pharnaces, but unsatisfied with
the king’s deceitful replies (he even sent gifts as an attempt at bribery),
gathered forces to push Pharnaces back to Bosporus. In Lesser Armenia
(today’s eastern Turkey), the opposing armies confronted each other out-
side Nicopolis (modern Koyulhisar). There, Domitius learned of Caesar’s
troubles in Alexandria, and so did Pharnaces; the news firmed up the lat-
ter’s resolve and the former’s determination to make quick work of one
another. The ensuing battle, however, turned against the Romans, as their
allied auxiliaries made errors and could not extricate themselves from being
overwhelmed. Domitius withdrew from the battle zone with his surviving
Roman troops. Pharnaces followed up his victory with the vicious takeover
of his old homeland of Pontus, plundering and inflicting punishments on
his new subjects.
By the summer of 47 BCE, however, all the territories around the eastern
Mediterranean from Egypt to Cilicia were firmly under Caesar’s control
or on his side; he could march freely against Pharnaces himself. Arriving
in Pontus, he was greeted by emissaries of the king, who expressed the lat-
ter’s desire to cooperate with Caesar; after all, they said, their king had not
626
supported Pompey in the Civil War, which he might have done, considering
past relations, but remained neutral. In reply, Caesar criticized Pharnaces
for being, then, a faithless friend and insisted that he make restitution for
all the harm done in his attacks on Rome’s allies and return to Bosporus.
The king dragged out his compliance with Caesar’s demands, making
various excuses that the latter did not believe. Caesar turned to the attack.
Pharnaces took up position at the fortified town of Zela (modern Zile) and,
on August 1, did not hesitate to challenge the enemy forces; he had great
confidence in his men, regarded the Romans as a meager adversary in terms
of numbers, and believed certain omens that predicted his victory. Charg-
ing uphill against the Romans, who were caught off-guard and terrified by
the onslaught, nevertheless, the troops of Pharnaces could not match Cae-
sar’s veterans in close combat. The king lost almost his entire force, cap-
tured or slaughtered, and fled the scene with only a few horsemen.
Pharnaces reached Bosporus safely by sea, but there he encountered a
challenge to his authority from his son-in-law, Asander; the king fell in the
Civil War that ensued between them. Asander held on to his throne for
another thirty years, even though Caesar had pitted his own ally, Mithra-
dates of Pergamum, against Asander as the rightful ruler of Bosporus. On
his return to Italy in the fall of 47, Caesar included his victory over Phar-
naces among the others celebrated in his magnificent quadruple triumph
ceremony.
Like Mithradates VI before him, Pharnaces proved a slippery ally for
the Romans. His efforts at power and territorial aggrandizement remind
VENI VIDI VICI

One of the most famous of Caesar’s phrases, Veni Vidi Vici means “I
came. I saw. I conquered.” He wrote these words in a letter to his
friend Amantius in Rome and perhaps also included them in a very
quick dispatch to the Roman Senate, both probably in late 47 BCE, to
relay news of his victory over Pharnaces, King of Bosporus. This ruler,
formerly an ally of Rome, had taken the opportunity of the Roman
Civil War (between Caesar and Pompey) to expand his own realm
into Asia Minor (modern Turkey). Caesar eventually had the time to
march against Pharnaces and defeated him in battle in very rapid fash-
ion, in fact, only four hours after setting eyes on the enemy’s position.
During the triumphal celebrations in the city of Rome that marked
the successful conclusion of Caesar’s many campaigns, he displayed
the famous three-word phrase on a huge placard for all the crowd of
spectators to see.
627
Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE)
us that the empire of Rome during the Late Republic shared the Mediter-
ranean region with other proud peoples and rulers who still dreamed of a
greatness of their own.
See also: Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Mithradates VI
(134–63 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Braund, D. 1984. Rome and the Friendly King: The Character of Client Kingship.
London: Croom Helm.
Ltd.
Press.
Sullivan, R. 1990. Near Eastern Royalty and Rome. Toronto: University of
Toronto Press.

In mid-summer 48 BCE, the forces of the Roman general Pompey pursued
his rival, Julius Caesar, and the latter’s forces into Thessaly, the northeast-
ern region of ancient Greece; Caesar had established his camp near the an-
cient Greek town of Pharsalus. The inhabitants of that town claimed to be
the descendants of the Phthians, the people of Achilles, hero of the Trojan
War; despite such a fine legendary ancestry, and involvement in some key
events during the Classical Age, Pharsalus had fallen into insignificance by
the late fourth century BCE and had remained that way ever since. The con-
frontation between Pompey and Caesar in its environs would once again
place Pharsalus on the map of history.
Caesar had hoped to end the Civil War on the west coast of Greece,
with the siege of the Pompeians at Dyrrachium, but things had not worked
out as planned. Encouraging his men to take heart and to remember their
string of victories up to that point, he still realized how demoralized they
had become and how shortage of food and other supplies would make this
condition worse. Something drastic had to be done—time was needed for
his men to recover their spirits and space for them to maneuver and forage.
628
The Triumph of Julius Caesar, after the Battle of Pharsalus against Pompey. Painting
(tempera on panel) by Paolo Uccello (1397–1475), Musee des Arts Decoratifs, Paris,
France. (The Bridgeman Art Library/Getty Images)
So, he ordered first the baggage train and later the rest of his troops to
withdraw from their encampment at Dyrrachium under cover of darkness
and move southward to Apollonia.
When Pompey discovered what was happening, he sent his cavalry in hot
pursuit after Caesar’s force, which had enjoyed a considerable head start.
The horsemen met up with Caesar’s rearguard about half way to Apollonia;
the latter turned and fought, reinforced by cavalry and infantry sent back
by Caesar. The Pompeians found themselves worsted and withdrew.
Soon, both armies arrived in a place familiar to them, the district around
the town of Asparagium, where they had each set up opposing camps only
629
a few months previously, before the engagement at Dyrrachium; they now

reclaimed and refortified their old camps. But Caesar did not stay put for
long; by the middle of the next day, he and his men were once again on the
march, apparently not taking the Roman military road, the Via Egnatia,
which had been frequently utilized by Roman armies since its construction
in the late second century BCE, but instead fording swollen rivers and cross-
ing through difficult terrain in an effort to shake off or at least delay their
pursuers.
Caesar was also proceeding as rapidly as he could because, once he had
settled matters in Apollonia, he intended to march as soon as possible
across to central and eastern Greece; before his confrontation with Pom-
pey at Dyrrachium, Caesar had already sent advanced forces under Cassius
Longinus, Calvisius Sabinus, and Domitius Calvinus into those parts of
Greece in response to local appeals for protection by and alliance with Cae-
sar. He anxiously sought news of their progress, especially since he received
word that the army of Pompey’s staunch comrade, Q. Caecilius Metellus
Pius Scipio, drawn from reinforcements in the province of Syria, was oper-
ating in their area.
So, Caesar envisioned this scenario: Pompey would follow into eastern
Greece to help Metellus Scipio against Caesar’s potential threat; this would
also take Pompey away from his own stores of supplies on the western
coast, placing him on a more equal footing with Caesar’s forces. After se-
curing the coastal towns under his control with garrisons, Caesar led the
remainder of his army by a long, circuitous trek across the high, probably
snow-filled passes (some 4,000 feet above sea level) of the Pindus moun-
tains (again instead of taking the easier military road because it would have
been easier to be caught on it by Pompey, who took that road himself),
until they reached the plains of Thessaly in northeastern Greece.
In the meantime, the advanced forces under Caesar’s officers had done
fairly well: the Aetolians of central Greece had welcomed Calvisius Sabi-
nus and helped him to oust Pompey’s garrisons in their territory; Cassius
Longinus had secured the goodwill of an important faction in Thessaly,
even though an encounter with Scipio’s troops compelled him to escape
into Ambracia; and the senior legate, Domitius Calvinus, had, in fact, de-
feated some of Scipio’s troops in ambush in Macedonia. Caesar had no
knowledge of these developments; the many messengers he had sent to
Domitius Calvinus, for example, heralding his own approach had never
reached the legate, and the legate’s messengers had never reached Caesar.
To make matters worse, more and more of the local Greek populations had
come to believe the rumors spreading like wildfire across Greece that Cae-
sar had been totally defeated and was in panicky flight from Pompey.
Having withdrawn from his encampment opposite Metellus Scipio’s,
Domitius Calvinus almost marched right into Pompey’s army. Information
630
from scouts saved the day and finally provided Domitius Calvinus with Cae-
sar’s position, making a rendezvous possible.
Caesar found Thessaly divided, with some people on his side and some
on his adversary’s. The town of Gomphi, for example, had favored Caesar
before news reached them of his failure at Dyrrachium; afterward, they sent
word to Pompey and Metellus Scipio to save them from Caesar. He could
have left Gomphi alone, but his men badly needed supplies and especially
food, which the town had in abundance; besides, Caesar hoped to make an
example of the town to others that might be considering resisting him. His
men were down, but not out, and the siege, capture, and looting of Gom-
phi proved that. The nearby community of Metropolis soon surrendered
to Caesar when prisoners from Gomphi informed them of what had hap-
pened to their town; no harm came to Metropolis, and word of this spread
throughout Thessaly. The message was clear: resist Caesar and suffer or
cooperate and remain safe.
Most of the Thessalian communities then agreed to follow Caesar’s or-
ders, and he saw that the region, with its open spaces and plentiful supply
of grain and water, made the perfect place to take a stand against Pom-
pey. In the meantime, Metellus Scipio had taken up station in the town of
Larisa; Pompey joined him there a few days later and treated him as co-
commander. They were both very confident about their imminent victory
over Caesar. Many officers and men called for the quick and decisive at-
tack that would allow them all to return home to Italy; in fact, among the
senatorial supporters of Pompey, a significant number, and especially the
highest-ranking, were already arguing with one another over their planned
future careers and what they would take away from Caesar in terms of posi-
tion and property, and how they would punish those who had not backed
their cause, again all as if the outcome of the impending battle was a fore-
gone conclusion.
Pompey himself delayed in taking action, however, thinking it better
to wait out the exhausted enemy troops, many of whom were also seri-
ously ill. His counselors severely criticized Pompey for this, alleging that
he enjoyed having so many senators, equestrians, and troops of all kinds at
his beck and call and did not want to give up that sort of power. Caesar’s
men, thus, gained time—rested, ate, and readied themselves for a fight—
and their commander began provoking Pompey into action. Each day, Cae-
sar would bring his men out of camp, and each day, they would take up
position a little closer to Pompey’s camp. Caesar still felt inferior in terms
of numbers, especially in terms of cavalry, so he copied a practice learned
from the Germans he had battled against in Gaul: he included among the
ranks of horsemen light-armed infantry to fight as their reinforcements;
frequent practicing made these teams of cavalry and skirmishers confident
and highly effective.
631
Still, Pompey would not advance against Caesar. He had constructed his
own camp on a hill and seemed to be waiting for Caesar’s force to advance
right up to it; this would have given his men the advantage of the high
ground with Caesar’s attempting to climb up while fighting. Caesar would
have none of that; after days of provoking Pompey into more open com-
bat, he was on the point of withdrawing from his own position and leading
Pompey, hopefully, on an exhausting cross-country pursuit from campsite
to campsite. Then, unexpectedly, Pompey’s army emerged far from their
fortifications, apparently ready for the final showdown. Pompey had caved
to the wishes, in fact demands, of his senior staff for immediate and deci-
sive action.
His plan was this: Metellus Scipio and the other senior officers would
command the Roman infantry in the center as well as the auxiliary infan-
try recruited from the provinces on the right wing, while Pompey him-
self would command Roman infantry on the left; all these were to march
up close to Caesar’s lines, hold the enemy force in place, and absorb its
onslaught without changing their own positions. This, Pompey assumed,
would confuse the enemy and wear them down even more after their vig-
orous forward charge. Then, Pompey would send his cavalry, which out-
numbered Caesar’s seven to one, against the unshielded right-hand side
of the enemy’s infantry on the right wing, throwing them into confusion,
a panic they would spread to their comrades in the center and toward the
left wing; soon afterward, Pompey’s cavalry would work their way around
the enemy, throwing Caesar’s force into further disarray from behind. He
envisioned that, besides his horsemen, none of his other troops would
even have to engage the enemy before the latter ran screaming from the
battlefield.
Though some on Pompey’s side were astonished by his bold scheme
and his sudden confidence, they were nonetheless heartened by it and were
further rallied by the speech of Labienus, once a successful officer of Cae-
sar’s, now a staunch supporter of Pompey’s cause; he criticized Caesar’s
army in the most unflattering terms and pledged not to return to camp
unless his side emerged victorious. Pompey and his officers made the same
pledge.
Caesar, meanwhile, had welcomed this chance for battle and had turned
his men from their planned march out of the area toward the enemy instead.
He stationed his most experienced soldiers, those of the Tenth Legion, on
the right wing under himself and P. Sulla, with his most experienced lieu-
tenants, Domitius Calvinus and Antony, in command of the center and the
left wing, respectively. Noticing that Pompey had placed all of his cavalry,
archers, and slingers on the left wing, Caesar quickly realized what his op-
ponent’s plan of attack entailed. To compensate, he reinforced his own
right wing with extra cohorts of infantry specially instructed to hold firm
632
against the expected cavalry charge and to thrust their spears upward at the
faces of the enemy.
Pompey had something like 45,000 men, while Caesar had roughly half
that number. Yet, the advantage belonged to Caesar’s forces, pumped up
as they were by enthusiasm, by the desire to defend their general’s honor,
and by the necessity of fighting well to save their own lives; they also prof-
ited from much longer experience of warfare than Pompey’s relatively raw
recruits. When Caesar’s men rushed across the field of battle and saw Pom-
pey’s standing still, they did not run wildly at them, but instead checked
their eager offensive for a moment, prepared their spears, ran forward again,
launched their spears at Pompey’s troops, and then closed in for hand-to-
hand combat using swords instead. Pompey’s men actually did surprisingly
well in resisting the attack and holding their ground; they, too, threw their
spears and then resorted to swords for defense.
The cavalry on Pompey’s left wing now carried out their special mis-
sion, pushing Caesar’s horsemen out of the way to concentrate on his in-
fantry. They might have succeeded fully, but Caesar’s reinforcement troops
moved up to the right wing as instructed, forcing the retreat of Pompey’s
cavalry; they massacred his archers and slingers. Now it was Pompey’s army
that was outflanked by Caesar’s cavalry and hit from behind while pressed
from the front by fresh Caesarians. Pompey lost ten times as many men as
Caesar.
This rout broke Pompey’s confidence; worse still, large numbers of his
men threw away their weapons and fled for the nearby hills, while Caesar’s
army stormed his camp and pursued the fugitives until they surrendered.
Caesar pardoned them all. Hoping to fight another day, Pompey fled to the
Aegean coast and sailed away, accompanied by a few senators.
Nearly a month after Pompey’s success at Dyrrachium, the battle on the
plains north of Pharsalus (technically at the place called Palaepharsalus) on
August 9, 48 BCE turned the Civil War around in Caesar’s favor, as it would
remain to the end. Later generations of Romans would come to view it as
the death-knell of the Republic.
See also: Army; Camps; Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE); Labienus (d. 45
BCE); Legions; Lucan’s Pharsalia; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Tenth Legion;
Thessaly
Further Reading
Press.
York: Penguin.
633
Piracy
Piracy
The Roman Republic did not maintain a permanent policing fleet on the
seas under its control, but, through its wars against Carthage and various
Hellenistic Greek states, the Romans had weakened the major maritime
powers in the Mediterranean region. As a result of these two factors, naval
piracy, which had already been an issue of concern in the Greek East since
the death of Alexander the Great, grew right alongside Rome’s power as
it expanded. The Roman elite, and the Roman economy in general, made
matters worse since they craved goods (e.g., slaves) that could often be
most easily and inexpensively obtained through piracy. By Caesar’s time,
therefore, piracy on the high seas had developed into one of the most lu-
crative occupations in the Roman Empire; it had also, however, developed
into one of the most problematic for long-term economic and military
stability.
The Romans certainly already had experience dealing with piracy going
back to the late third century BCE; at that time, the pirates came from Illyria
(roughly modern Bosnia, Montenegro, and northern Albania), across the
Adriatic Sea from Italy, and were mostly beholden to the Illyrian queen,
Teuta. So, once the Roman forces destroyed her kingdom, Illyrian piracy
pretty much dried up.
Much more difficult to staunch were the more independent, “entrepre-
neurial” pirates who operated fairly freely throughout the eastern Mediter-
ranean, Aegean, and Black Seas. Among these were the pirates of Cilicia
(the very rugged southeastern coast of what is today Turkey) and the is-
land of Crete. Since the late fourth century BCE, mariners from these places
had been engaged in local civil wars, larger regional conflicts, and the big,
dynastic squabbles of the Hellenistic kingdoms, thus blurring the line be-
tween naval warfare and naval brigandage. By the Late Republic, such
quarrels might have continued to have a political flavor, but the pirates had
really become privateers, plundering far and wide and trafficking in their
stolen goods, mainly in slaves (often victims of kidnapping from unpro-
tected coastal villages and towns) and mainly for the Roman market. To the
Aegean island of Delos, Cretan and especially Cilician pirates brought in
enough slaves that the average daily sale of slaves amounted to something
like 10,000. Many of those sold ended up on the large estates of the Roman
elite in Italy and Sicily.
Despite the obvious, though dubious, benefits they brought to the
Roman economy, the Cretan and Cilician pirates became the target of
the Roman government, which came to view them as too much of a
threat to commerce and order; the Senate dispatched Marc Antony’s
grandfather, also named Marcus Antonius, on a special mission against
the Cilicians in 102 and 101 BCE. Mildly successful, Antonius paved the
634
Piracy
way for the Roman annexation of part of Cilicia as a province. Thirty

years later, his son, Marc Antony’s own dad, again named Marcus Anto-
nius, gained a special commission to operate against the pirates on the
island of Crete. Despite the fact that later Romans referred to him as
“Creticus,” as though he had conquered the island, in fact, the pirates
there had gotten the best of him, compelling him to grant them a treaty
with Rome.
By that point in time, the war between Rome and its erstwhile client-
ally, Mithradates VI of Pontus, had come to play a major role in a new ex-
plosion of piracy; his kingdom centered on the north-central coast of Asia
Minor (modern Turkey) and exerted influence widely across the Black Sea
and Aegean Sea, and even into the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Mithradates
funded the activities of pirates in all those waters as an extension of his own
military operations, especially against Roman encroachment in what he re-
garded as his turf; the alliance of monarch and pirates gave the latter greater
and greater confidence.
A decade before Antonius Creticus, L. Licinius Lucullus, commander of
the fleet raised by the Romans to counter Mithradates’s advantages at sea,
ravaged coastal towns where many of the pirates had their bases, especially
in Asia Minor, to punish innocent and guilty alike for suspected support of
the king; afterward, as further punishment, and to accumulate compensa-
tion for the costs of the conflict, the Roman supreme commander in the
region, L. Cornelius Sulla, imposed harsh financial demands on these same
towns. These moves actually precipitated an economic depression through-
out the region; many of the local people who had not turned to brigand-
age and piracy in years past then did so in the unsettled conditions that
followed the war.
The misadventure of young Julius Caesar fits here. Sometime in the early
70s BCE (perhaps as early as 76 or as late as 75), he left Italy to travel to
the Greek island of Rhodes, where he hoped to study with a preeminent
teacher of rhetoric named Apollonius Molon. Extrapolating from the ac-
count left to us by the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar probably
sailed across the Adriatic from Italy to western Greece, journeyed overland
through Greece, and then embarked again aboard ship in the Aegean Sea
heading southward toward Rhodes; though lengthy, this was a fairly com-
mon method of getting from Italy to Asia Minor in those days. While sail-
ing along the western coast of Asia Minor, Caesar’s ship passed by the small
island of Pharmacussa (offshore from the famous city of Miletus), only to
fall into the clutches of pirates; Suetonius makes no mention of their origin,
though his contemporary, the Greek biographer Plutarch, in very hostile
terms, identifies them as Cilicians.
For almost forty days, the pirates held Caesar prisoner, together with
his personal physician and two of his servants; others who had been in
635
Piracy
attendance on him were sent to raise his ransom. Plutarch suggests that
they collected the sum demanded from cities in the region, naming only
Miletus specifically, and never identifying whom the messengers contacted
(presumably local acquaintances of Caesar or friends of the Roman gov-
ernment). The pirates set an enormous figure, fifty talents, approximately
300,000 denarii (almost equivalent to the expected annual wealth of a
Roman senator). They apparently thought that they had a prize catch in
their possession, somewhat odd considering that Caesar was only in his
early twenties at the time and had his whole career of fame still ahead of
him. Perhaps Plutarch makes a truthful claim, that it was Caesar who in-
sisted on a fifty talent ransom because of “who he was.”
Despite his youth, or perhaps because of it, Caesar, arrogant, cocky,
and smiling, treated the pirates with open distaste, ordering them around,
insulting them as barbarians, and regularly threatening to crucify every
single one of his captors. When they received their payment, and re-
leased him, as they had promised to do, Caesar swiftly raised a fleet of
ships from Roman allies in the area and tracked down the pirates, nearly
all still in the vicinity of Pharmacussa. Receiving little cooperation from
the Roman governor in western Asia Minor, who, if we believe Plutarch,
was tempted through the pirates’ bribery to arrange their release, Caesar
took it upon himself to execute them all by precisely the method he had
promised.
Caesar’s behavior, of course, did nothing to quell the pirate menace, and
in the following decade, the Senate first dispatched Antonius Creticus, as
noted earlier, and afterward Q. Caecilius Metellus, also later dubbed “Cre-
ticus,” in their consecutive military missions against the pirates on Crete.
Metellus concluded his operations quite successfully, bringing the island
into line as a Roman province (administratively connected with Cyrene) by
about 66 BCE.
XENA AND JULIUS CAESAR

In recent popular culture, a fictionalized Julius Caesar has appeared
in seven episodes across four seasons of the television series, Xena:
Warrior Princess. Not surprisingly much modified for the viewing au-
dience, his ever-youthful, arrogant, skilful, ruthless, and obsessively
ambitious character serves as a major adversary and counterpoint to
the Amazon warrior. Such portrayal appears to have been inspired, in
part, by the ancient stories of Caesar’s behavior toward the pirates of
the Mediterranean.
636
Piracy
So, the pirate threat from Crete seemed to be over, but there was still
Cilicia to worry about; in fact, there were many other “pirate coves” across
the empire by the time of Metellus’s operations in the early 60s, many of
these strongholds populated by Cilicians apparently, with Asia Minor and
Greece as the definite focus of the piratical depredations. The pirates had
become ever bolder, openly utilizing Roman roads to penetrate into the
interior of these territories and seizing significant Roman hostages among
their many kidnap victims. According to Plutarch, the privateers had also
become more arrogant, joyfully mocking even their Roman prisoners and
forcing some of them to walk the plank.
This is where Pompey came in. In 67 BCE, with the considerable politi-
cal support of the Roman voters, as well as Julius Caesar and a few other
senators, Pompey received an extraordinary command to ferret out and
eliminate all the pirates of the Roman world; he was given three years to
complete this momentous task and thereby free the high seas from dan-
ger, as well as guarantee open trade, especially in basic food supplies.
Pompey had enormous resources in money, ships, and manpower (sol-
diers, sailors, and cavalry) made available to him, including the assistance of
two dozen other senatorial commanders specially chosen for the purpose;
these he assigned to particular sections of the Mediterranean and Black
Sea regions. Pompey then coordinated all their operations in assaulting pi-
rate fortresses on land and surrounding their vessels in the open sea. In a
little over one month, these efforts destroyed piracy in the western Medi-
terranean area and confined the pirates in the east to the coasts of Cilicia.
Pompey induced some of these holdouts to surrender themselves and, in
exchange for leniency, to provide information on others who were harder to
track down. In this way, entire families of pirates fell into Roman custody.
Still, the majority of the Cilician pirates stuck together and prepared to
fight back against the Roman forces. This meant an all-out naval battle with
Pompey’s fleet off the Cilician coast, which the pirates lost, followed by the
Roman siege of key enemy strongholds in the area. The eventual surren-
der of these places (whether forced or bribed) led to the surrender of many
others, which made Pompey’s objective much easier to achieve, without the
need of massive Roman troop deployment in the rugged highlands of Cili-
cia. The tens of thousands of prisoners, men, women, and children, Pom-
pey relocated in under-populated parts of southern Asia Minor and Greece,
arranging for them to have land to farm. Within three months altogether,
he had managed to suppress all piracy.
Pompey’s solution did not last indefinitely; indeed, even one of his own
sons, Sextus Pompey, eventually became a sort of buccaneer himself as part
of his opposition to his rivals, Marc Antony and Octavian. Not until well
into the first century CE did the emperors of Rome sufficiently stifle the
threat of brigandage by sea.
637
Plebs
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Apollonius of Rhodes;

Coinage/Money; Crucifixion; Extraordinary Commands; Illyricum; Lucul-
lus (118–57 BCE); Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE); Navy/Ships; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Oratory; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Sextus Pompey
(67–35 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Trade
Further Reading
University Press.
Ltd.
Press.
Publishing.
Plebs
The ancient Romans thought of their citizen population as divided into
two main groups, the patricians and the plebeians. Over time, the patri-
cians and the leading families among the plebeians intermarried and coop-
erated with one another politically, economically, and socially, thus forming
the Roman aristocracy. The remainder of the population, what we might
call “commoners,” for lack of a better term, the Romans referred to as the
plebs.
From early in Rome’s history, there were families more successful and
hence more respected than others. Romans tended to attribute such success
not just to individual ability but to family tradition and lineage. It should
not surprise us, then, that fairly soon they began to distinguish those “best”
families, and especially the fathers who led them, from all the others in
their society; such “blue-blooded” families came to provide the majority
of leaders in the Roman community. Probably named for the fathers (pa-
tres), these so-called patrician families, and the clans (gentes) they created
through intermarriage, came to occupy a hereditary status in the Roman
638
Plebs
world and attempted to dominate political, military, and religious positions

within the state.
Prominent individuals among the plebeians (Romans from non-patrician
families) struggled against patrician attempts at domination; eventually,
those top plebeians and the patricians merged their interests and even made
family ties. Yet, they and their descendants remained proud of their distinc-
tive ancestry, either patrician or plebeian or both, so that, right down to the
end of the Republic, one could identify that ancestry by the family name of
any prominent individual. For instance, Julius Caesar claimed patrician an-
cestry as coming from the Julius clan on his father’s side (even though his
mother’s side, the Aurelius clan, was plebeian). His lieutenant and friend,
Marc Antony, claimed plebeian status from his father’s side (the Antonius
clan), even though his mother was patrician (as a relative of Caesar’s from
the Julius clan).
Nevertheless, such plebeian and patrician individuals and their fami-
lies belonged to an aristocracy of wealth, position, and status that dis-
tinguished them from the vast majority of the Roman population. These
commoners, the Roman plebs, maintained many ties with the aristocracy
through the customs of patronage (patrocinium) and clientship (clientela),
or patron–client relations. As discussed elsewhere in this volume, a man or
woman from among the plebs would enter into a relationship of recipro-
cal favors with a man or woman of the aristocracy; the commoner might
do some work for the aristocrat in exchange for future assistance (e.g., a
supply of needed grain during an unexpected bad harvest), or the aristo-
crat might solicit the commoner’s vote in an election (e.g., in exchange for
legal advice).
Members of the plebs usually engaged in such clientship with multiple
patrons, whether they sought such patronage or were offered it from above.
Regardless, in Roman society, where there existed few state-run safety nets
for the People of Rome and the disparity between the aristocracy and the
commoners was considerable in terms of economics and power, it paid to
have many patrons, even when one needed to juggle patrons who were ri-
vals of one another. For the aristocracy, it paid to have many clients; peers
judged one another by the number of clients that greeted them in the
morning, walked with them into the Roman Forum, voted for them and
their proposals in the Popular Assemblies. Indeed, one’s status, and one’s
reputation, was made visible by such public displays of patron–client rela-
tionships.
Patrocinium and clientela helped a great deal to bridge the gap between
commoners and aristocrats in Roman society, and, together, they built the
Roman Empire. In the course of that history, and largely as a result of
patron–client bonds, the plebs rarely demonstrated concerted action as a
class against the aristocracy; they seldom revealed any consciousness of their
639
Plebs
position and needs as at odds with their “betters” because the latter almost
always came through for them. The plebs had incredible respect for the ar-
istocracy and for the values that it stood for during much of the Republic.
As a result, Roman history in that long time period contains no “heroes of
the People” arising from the commoners. Instead, the so-called Populares,
politicians who claimed, or at least appeared, to act in the interest of the
common Roman man and woman always came from the aristocracy itself;
in a sense, they simply tried to set themselves apart as better patrons of the
plebs than their peers.
This does not mean that the actual voice of the commoners did not
come through into Roman politics. They staged frequent riots in the Late
Republic over high prices for basic necessities or insufficient supply of
grain and other foodstuffs. They physically assaulted members of the Sen-
ate in the street or the Roman Forum, attacked the homes of officials,
and occupied public places to get their messages across. These behaviors
were not always the result of spontaneous popular unrest, though, because
Roman politicians (i.e., members of the aristocracy) often employed the
urban masses in their competition for power by orchestrating such distur-
bances.
Aristocratic candidates (the only kind there were in Rome) for public of-
fice had to win the support of voters from the plebs, which meant that they
regularly had to determine what those voters wanted and needed. This was
most conveniently accomplished, of course, by amassing the largest num-
ber of clients from across the spectrum of the commoner class and keeping
track (usually through staffers) of their particular concerns, and identifying
the interests of new clients through the old ones. To reach out to an even
wider segment of the plebs, beyond one’s group of formal clients or the cli-
ents of one’s allies and friends, required speech-making, handshaking, and
other such public gestures that would convince the average citizen that a
vote for a particular candidate would bring immediate benefits. The com-
moners loved to be courted by the aristocratic office-seekers, who displayed
courtesy, attentiveness, gratitude, and generosity on an immense scale at
election time; their grand donations of food or money helped the plebs sur-
vive a little easier and their staging of mass entertainments lessened some
of the stress of life.
The plebs served as the fighting men of the Roman military. Though
the state had for many generations a preference for drafting men from the
countryside (the rural plebs), by Caesar’s time, it had become common
practice to draw largely from the city of Rome itself (the urban plebs). In
either case, the common soldiers, through slacking off or insubordinate be-
havior or even eagerness for battle, found many ways to exert pressure on
their aristocratic commanders in the interests of their own needs.
640
Plebs
The relatively free speech of Roman society also gave the plebs a
means through which to be heard. Homespun songs that pointed out
the injustices of the Senate or the unpopular policies of its members
were a special favorite. These songs circulated throughout the populace
and were recorded even by aristocratic authors. For example, the com-
moners used such songs to criticize Caesar, even as dictator, for plac-
ing high-ranking Gauls (ethnic Celts who came from the region that we
today call France) into the Roman Senate; many of the plebs held strong
prejudices against foreigners, whom they regarded as stealing privileges
and jobs from “real” Romans. These “protesters” might not have pre-
vented Caesar from implementing his policy, but they certainly made it
sting to do so.
Citizens also put up written messages, such as posters, in very public
places to signal their opinions. Again, the new Gallic senators give us a case
in point: one popular poster warned not to give them directions to the
Senate House. In another example, people even graffitied the pedestal of
one of Caesar’s statues with words attacking him for behaving like a tyran-
nical king.
Lastly, the plebs used particular venues, where they had great safety in
numbers, to share their concerns on various issues simply by shouting them
out for all, especially officials, to hear. On one occasion, for instance, they
criticized Caesar for appointing a man to the consulship for less than a
full year’s term by crying out in the Theater of Pompey that he could not
be consul at all that way—it went against tradition. The Roman citizens
among the plebs tended to be quite traditional.
By Caesar’s time, though, ethnic Romans (if we can even use such a
term) did not make up the entire plebs of Rome. The urban plebs had
become, in fact, very ethnically diverse, something that actually exac-
erbated the many prejudices of Roman commoners against foreigners.
Much of the demographic shift occurred because of the Roman tradi-
tion of granting full citizenship, including the right to vote, to ex-slaves
(liberti). Since the vast majority of slaves were foreigners captured in
wars across the Mediterranean region, former slaves added to the citi-
zen body customs brought with them from their various homelands, es-
pecially Judaea (modern Israel), Gaul (roughly modern France), Spain,
North Africa, and Greece, and must have brought fresh energy into the
society and politics of the city of Rome. Liberti remained the political
and social clients of their former masters; their sons could even stand for
public office, provided they accumulated the enormous wealth required
for eligibility. Most freed slaves worked within the plebs as merchants,
tavern-keepers, teachers, and physicians, but, thanks to their generally
high levels of education and skilled training, freedmen and women might
641
Plebs
even be more valuable to their aristocratic patrons than native Romans

of the plebs.
While the rural plebs endured the hardships of backbreaking agricultural
life, the urban plebs had to cope with noise, traffic, and higher rates of
crime. Typically, farmers and city dwellers got up at dawn, worked until
midday, took an afternoon break (meridiatio), and returned to their la-
bors until just before dark. Both had to compete with slave labor on a
large scale. They ate small meals, compared with the extravagant banquets
of the aristocrats, often at taverns, and the urban plebs crowded outside in
the narrow lanes of the city to get out of their cramped apartments (where
the vast majority of them lived) and enjoy the relatively fresh air, light, and
energy of street life, with barbers, butchers, peddlers, even bankers doing
their business outside.
Over the generations, the officials of the Roman State developed a tra-
dition of easing the burdens of the plebs in various ways. They provided
a massive supply of good water from a number of publicly constructed
aqueducts, improved public sanitation and hygiene with public latrines,
baths, and a system of sewage disposal by way of underground tunnels
(e.g., the Cloaca Maxima in the Roman Forum). Leaders contained and
channeled popular frustrations over unemployment and other issues by
staging public entertainments, such as Greek drama and comedy, Italian
farces, mimes, pantomimes, musical concerts, gladiatorial combats, horse
and chariot racing, wild beast hunts, acrobats, trained animals, fire-eaters,
tight rope walkers, and so on. Many of these were tied to religious or na-
tional holidays, which were an opportunity for patronage, a chance for the
state or the privately wealthy to shower gifts of food and money on the
plebs.
Among the urban plebs, those who benefited most from these state-
sponsored activities were the proletarii. These were the tens of thousands
of very poorest Roman citizens whose only “assets” were their proles,
their children. They lived from hand to mouth, surviving partly on the
grain dole implemented by the government in the Late Republic, partly
on donations from wealthy patrons, and partly on the odd jobs that kept
them and their families going from day to day. The citizens of this pro-
letariat, despite their large numbers, had only a tiny voice in the political
decisions of the Republic, unless they turned to violence or volunteered
to serve Roman generals desperate for manpower (which many thousands
of them did).
The Roman plebs, especially in the city of Rome, comprised many differ-
ent people from different walks of life and with different concerns. Com-
pared with the much more homogeneous Roman aristocracy, they found it
hard to establish a unified front, but they, nonetheless, played a critical role
in the dynamics of the Late Republic.
642
Plutarch’s Lives
See also: Army; Citizenship; Food and Drink; Forum Romanum; Elections;
Games; Names; Patricians; Patrons and Clients; Popular Assemblies; Popu-
lares; Recreation; Slavery/Slaves
Further Reading
of Michigan Press.
Noy, D. 2000. Foreigners at Rome. London: Duckworth & Co., Ltd.
endon Press.
Routledge.
Plutarch’s Lives
The philosopher, priest, and biographer, Plutarch of Chaeronea, was born
in that town of central Greece sometime around 45 CE and died sometime
after 120 CE. A prolific writer, his works attained great popularity in the an-
cient world, one of the reasons why over one hundred of them still survive
to this day. Of these, slightly more than half are essays in dialogue form on
varying subjects from Egyptian religion to male–female relations in Sparta,
from trustworthy friendship to religious speculation, while slightly less than
half are biographies of famous Greek and Roman individuals; of these bi-
ographies, besides the Life of Julius Caesar itself, of course, nine others
(on Crassus, Pompey, Antony, Cato the Younger, Cicero, Brutus, Lucul-
lus, Sulla, and Marius) provide critical information for our understanding
of Caesar’s life and legacy.
Plutarch apparently spent the majority of his life in his hometown and
in nearby Delphi, where he became a priest of Apollo near the end of the
first century CE. Very active in civic and religious matters, in that sense,
very much an old-style Greek with his focus on his city, Plutarch received a
good education there and in Athens as a young man, becoming an expert
not only in moral philosophy, as we would understand it, but also in various
aspects of natural science, music, literature, rhetoric, and so on; in other
643
Plutarch’s Lives
Portrait of Plutarch of Chaero-

nea, engraving on laid paper,
modeled on the sixteenth-
century French School, Biblio-
theque Nationale, Paris, France.
The ancient biographer is one of
our most important sources for
the history of the Late Republic.
(Gaultier, Leonard, plate:
16 x 13 cm (6 5/16 x 5 1/8 in.)
Firmin-Didot “Portraits,”
undescribed)
words, he possessed a highly sophisticated training in the liberal arts. He

also traveled beyond Greece, to Egypt, for example, and lived and taught
in Rome for a bit, where he enjoyed friendships with some of those clos-
est to the emperors Trajan and Hadrian; in fact, both emperors showered
rewards upon Plutarch for his talents and his spirit of civic commitment,
Hadrian even appointing him to an administrative post back in Greece as
imperial procurator (special representative and estate manager) of Achaea
(the Peloponnesus).
Apparently requested by his friends, Plutarch composed his series of
Lives as a sort of bridge between the Greek and Roman civilizations, as he
tried to remind each of them of their indebtedness to one another and their
mutual importance. Through comparing famous Greeks with famous Ro-
mans, he sought to better understand and convey to Greek readers not only
the growth of Rome’s empire (which his predecessor, Polybius, had already
done, in part, over 200 years earlier), but especially the “idea of Rome,”
that is, as we might say, what made the Romans tick, especially what made
them different from the Greeks. Several things about the Romans stood
out for Plutarch: their valor and tenacity in war (“children of Mars,” he
called them); their genius for political compromise and for solving prob-
lems of statecraft; the struggles for power among their own, yet their ability
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to close ranks against common foes from outside; their courage, leadership,
generosity, forbearance, and almost supernatural power.
Not surprisingly considering his education and life experience, Plutar-
ch’s interest in these Lives lay not in the accuracy and completeness of the
historical facts he presented. Like other ancient authors, he does not even
bother to cite his sources, except to point out significant differences in
viewpoint among them or odd bits of information. Marshaling a number of
sources for each work (and we can recognize his use of some of the greatest
writers of the classical Greco-Roman period), he carefully synthesized them
to construct his own version of a particular life story as an investigation of
character in dramatic circumstances; as he himself remarked, he sought to
create portraits of individual character and personality, out of the broad
strokes of great actions as well as the tiny touches of the smallest details,
we might say. Even these, Plutarch said, can tell us more about a person’s
true self than their most memorable deeds. In line with this thinking and
approach, the causes behind historical events seemed to him deeply internal
to the human beings involved. Plutarch equated high public conduct with
private moral standards; political and military virtues or vices unquestion-
ably reflected deep personal virtues and vices.
Though sometimes ambivalent or even dispassionate in his judgments,
due, in part, to the distance in time between himself and his subjects, Plu-
tarch seemed to recognize the complexities of human motives and concerns
and to show compassion and tolerance for human flaws. In a sense, then,
his biographies can be taken as amateur psychological studies. And he saw
biography as didactic; like Greek historians and philosophers before him,
Plutarch regarded human nature as pretty much static, so the people of his
time could learn from the famous men of the past what and what not to do
in public (and private) life to succeed and achieve virtue. The famous men
became virtuous object lessons or warnings or both.
Plutarch’s Life of Caesar displays all the above elements. The author
begins by discussing Caesar’s relations with Marius, his uncle; Cinna the
Elder, his father-in-law; and the chief rival of them both, Sulla; Sulla be-
came dictator in Rome and virtually destroyed what was left of the faction
loyal to Marius and Cinna, indeed, almost destroying young Caesar in the
process. From the start, the main character trait displayed by Caesar is re-
sistance to another’s power, regardless of the danger (Chapter 1). During
his ensuing flight and absence from Rome, and his kidnapping by pirates
in the eastern Mediterranean, this trait of defiance continues to hold center
stage; following his ransoming, he gathers a fleet of his own to capture the
pirates and even disregards the authority of a Roman governor to take upon
himself the responsibility of crucifying them (Chapter 2).
With these introductory chapters already setting the tone, Plutarch
no longer delays in expressing to his readers the pervading theme of the
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work: from the very start of his public career, even when he was simply a
student of rhetoric, Caesar conceived the ambition of becoming the first
man in Rome, the greatest of all Roman soldiers, indeed, of seizing con-
trol of the Republic for himself, of ruling the Roman world (Chapter 3).
We might regard this as a terrific exaggeration, in light of all the evidence
available to us about Caesar’s career, but Plutarch also had access to that
evidence, more or less, and yet insisted on his belief in this project of Cae-
sar’s repeatedly through the rest of the biography. Indeed, to drive the
point home in these earliest chapters, he brings to bear the testimony of
Cicero, famous orator and statesman, sometime associate and sometime
opponent of Caesar, who, according to Plutarch, was the first to see be-
neath the facade (“the smiling surface of the sea”) and recognize Caesar’s
true motives in everything he ever did (Chapter 4).
Another factor that encouraged Caesar’s ambitions, besides his own de-
termined personality and his eloquence, was the tremendous popularity he
enjoyed among the common citizens of Rome. He attained this popularity
by attacking the minions of the now-dead dictator Sulla in the law courts,
by a friendly demeanor, generosity, and lavish spending on entertainments
and other projects (Chapters 4 and 5), by reviving the memory of public
heroes, like his uncle Marius, by displaying emotion at the funerals of his
aunt Julia and his wife Cornelia (Chapter 5). As modern American voters
might say today, Caesar was the kind of man they would invite to a bar-
beque. He was also a spendthrift with a nefarious purpose.
Plutarch did not bother to dissect the politics of the Late Republic in a
sophisticated way; instead, like many authors of his time, he boiled it down
to a competition between two factions, “that of Sulla and that of Marius,”
the so-called Optimates and the so-called Populares, as they are known in
other sources. This oversimplification complements Plutarch’s assumptions
about Caesar’s goals, as he casts him in the role of successor to Marius and
again takes the opportunity to suggest that Caesar’s ultimate purpose was
to secure supreme power in the state by gaining Marius’s former adherents
to his side (Chapter 6). Yet, following this line of interpretation also allows
Plutarch to disregard the fact that the so-called faction of Marius had little
cohesion except its hatred of Sulla; Caesar may have picked up some of the
plans of the Mariani, but he (like they) primarily operated in ways intended
simply to benefit himself, not some larger faction or “program.”
One can interpret subsequent events in line with Plutarch’s perspective.
Catulus, a former adversary of Marius, castigates Caesar in the Senate for
“aiming his artillery at the capture of the Republic.” Caesar defeats Catu-
lus for the position of Pontifex Maximus; Catulus retaliates by implicat-
ing Caesar in the Conspiracy of Catiline, a plot to overthrow the state
and bring about chaos among the common people (Chapter 7). Then,
Cato the Younger appears, the ultimate Optimate, and takes on Caesar’s
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much-vaunted clemency toward the conspirators as a proof of the latter’s

weakness of character and of the danger he posed, much more than Cati-
line, to the stability of Roman society (Chapter 8).
The author then shifts to explore Caesar’s personal life, into which his
new wife, Pompeia, had introduced scandal (Chapters 9 and 10). Plutarch
takes the opportunity to digress on the subject of the Bona Dea, a god-
dess in whose honor a special religious festival was celebrated in the home
of Caesar; Plutarch, the devoted priest of Delphi, never misses a chance
to discuss religious matters of any kind. It also gives him the opportunity
to speak at length about Clodius, a future henchman of Caesar’s and an
enemy of Cicero’s, who broke the taboos of the festival by sneaking in to
have an affair with Pompeia. Caesar appears utterly pragmatic throughout
the whole business, seeking to win the very popular Clodius to his camp,
regardless of the scandal.
The subsequent account of Caesar’s governorship of Further Spain
(southern Spain) emphasizes four elements (Chapters 11 and 12): his as-
sociation with Crassus, the richest man in Rome; his enrichment of his
own troops through wars of conquest against the local tribes; his self-
comparison with Alexander the Great; and, once again, his desire to be
first man anywhere rather than take second place in Rome. Plutarch’s se-
lection of these highlights from Caesar’s two years in Spain serves to fore-
ground key characteristics of his later career.
The biographer immediately presents Caesar’s return to Rome as a di-
lemma, as, in fact, a confrontation with the law. His attempt to circumvent
that law by special dispensation and the opposition this attracted from Cato
and the other Optimates set in motion, as Plutarch sees it, the future Civil
War. To overcome opposition, Caesar had to bring together resources and
influence in the persons of Crassus and Pompey the Great; by creating this
political association, the three men weakened the Roman aristocracy as a
whole and destabilized the Republic, paving the way for the ultimate con-
flict that would destroy it. Plutarch explicitly sets himself at odds with the
conventional thinking by arguing that it was the friendship of Caesar and
Pompey and not their animosity that served as the true blow to the Repub-
lic’s integrity (Chapter 13). From that point onward, backed by Crassus
and Pompey and enjoying support from the common citizens, Caesar em-
barked on a course to ride roughshod over the Optimates and anyone else
who stood in his way. The First Triumvirate, as described by Plutarch, thus
unleashed the ambitions of Caesar, giving them practically free rein, despite
the protests and obstructionism of Cato, Bibulus, and others (Chapter 14).
Plutarch devotes the next thirteen chapters (15–27) to the military cam-
paigns of Caesar in Gaul, Britain, and Germany. Much of the factual detail
in these chapters comes directly from Caesar’s own commentaries, which
provided historical information for many later writers. Upon these facts and
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those gained from other sources he consulted, Plutarch lays interpretations

of his own. He especially claims, based on his own research into the ca-
reers of great Roman generals across three centuries, like Fabius Maximus,
Scipio Africanus, Metellus Numidicus, Sulla, Marius, Lucullus, and Pom-
pey, as well as Caesar, that the latter’s achievements surpass them all, at least
in one way or another. Victory over and over again exalted his own honor
and the glorious reputation of his troops, who developed deep affection
and unbelievable devotion to their commanding officer. Even his own poor
health (here Plutarch refers to Caesar’s epilepsy) did not deter him from
enduring the same hardships as his men and fighting as bravely and fiercely
as they. In addition, Plutarch is careful to note that Caesar never lost sight
of the political arena; the vast wealth he acquired by conquest, for example,
he utilized, as in Spain, to reward and spur on his troops, but he also em-
ployed it to gain larger political support at home. Thus, he was engaged in
“campaigns” of two sorts on two fronts.
In the biographer’s opinion, Caesar integrated into or brought for-
ward from his deepest personality particular talents during these wars far
away from home: he developed his trademark speed in responding to cir-
cumstances, especially threatening ones; he practiced making use of every
advantage in the context of war; and he learned to seize upon the right
moments for taking action. All these brought him success now in the Civil
War between himself and Pompey. Plutarch asserts that Caesar had long
planned to remove Pompey as an obstacle to supreme power, which, of
course, fits with what the author has been saying all along about his ambi-
tions (Chapter 28). Fresh obstruction from the senatorial Optimates of-
fered Caesar, who had lost all respect for the law, the pretexts he needed
(Chapters 29–31). As he takes the readers through the machinations of
Caesar and Pompey themselves, as well as their supporters and detractors,
the tone of Plutarch seems to agree with those opinions he records from
the time, opinions that saw the Republic as lost, as diseased, as a ship with-
out a crew; the only remedy appeared to be strife and a complete change
of power.
Throughout the conflict, Caesar’s daring, quickness, clemency, deter-
mination, and strategic skill compare favorably with the incompetence and
dysfunctionality of Pompey and his successors (Chapters 32–56). Plutarch
reveals his knowledge not only of Caesar’s own memoirs on the Civil War
but also the histories of Asinius Pollio and Livy, as well as Cicero’s and
Caesar’s pamphlets on the character of Cato, who committed suicide to
avoid capture by Caesar. The latter’s final victory over the sons of Pom-
pey in Spain marks for Plutarch a clear break in Caesar’s behavior pattern;
from that point onward, he becomes more authoritarian and proud, even
though he also tries to win everyone over to his “rule” by promises and
gifts (Chapters 57–58). Success also did not satisfy Caesar’s appetite for
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greater distinction, since he was always naturally competing with himself

more than others. Thus, Plutarch explains the plans and projects Caesar set
for himself in the last months of his life (Chapter 58).
Yet Caesar’s ambition, stature, and accomplishments, even his reform of
the Roman calendar (Chapter 59), engendered hatred that he could not
quash. In line with his assertion that Caesar had always sought absolute
power, Plutarch now claims that he also passionately wanted recognition
of such power through the hated title of “king” (Chapters 60 and 61).
The plot hatched against him by Cassius and Brutus hinged upon this fatal
desire (Chapter 62) and Caesar watched his demise come, ignoring every
supernatural warning (Chapter 63) and falling into the hands of his ene-
mies as Fate decreed (Chapters 64–66).
The aftermath of Caesar’s assassination reads in Plutarch’s account as the
unraveling of doom against the high and mighty Conspirators, brought low
by Caesar’s generosity, as expressed through his will, and his popularity, as
displayed at his funeral (Chapters 67 and 68). Plutarch follows that thread
of the story into the final chapter (69), where he describes the deaths of
Cassius and Brutus as brought about by the avenging spirit of Caesar.
Not at the very end but rather at the beginning of the last chapter, Plu-
tarch recapitulates the career of Julius Caesar. He describes it as a long
quest for ultimate power achieved over many obstacles and by persever-
ance against many threats. Yet, Plutarch’s final evaluation condemns Cae-
sar. He ended his life with “an empty name,” the biographer says, by which
he must mean the titles, such as Dictator for Life, which did nothing to
protect him or guarantee his longevity, and with a reputation for glory
that simply served to generate more hatred and envy from his contempo-
raries. This is classic Plutarchean reasoning: Caesar’s strongest character
traits brought him the success he craved but at too high a price in terms of
virtue and the respect of his society.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Asinius Pollio
(76 BCE–4 CE); Bellum Civile (Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Bibu-
lus (d. 48 BCE); Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato
(95–46 BCE); Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Dictator;
Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares;
Further Reading
Barrow, R. H. 1967. Plutarch and His Times. London: Bloomington: Indiana Uni-
versity Press.
Jones, C. P. 1971. Plutarch and Rome. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
649
Mellor, R. 1999. The Roman Historians. London and New York: Routledge.
Russell, D. A. 1973. Plutarch. New York: Scribners.
Stadter, P. A. 1992. Plutarch and the Historical Tradition. London and New York:
Routledge.
Wardman, A. 1974. Plutarch’s Lives. London: Paul Elek.
The story of Pompeia, Julius Caesar’s second wife, became symbolic in
Roman history for the moralizing politics of marriage. That tradition has
survived into modern times wherever anyone is expected to be like “Cae-
sar’s wife.”
In 69 BCE, Caesar lost his first wife, Cornelia, the daughter of the four-
time consul and Popularis reformer, L. Cornelius Cinna. Only a year or
two after her passing, Caesar remarried, a most common practice in the
Roman society of his day, especially for Roman men, and especially men of
the upper class. His new wife came from the opposite side of the political
spectrum from his first; Pompeia was the granddaughter of Q. Pompeius
Rufus and of L. Cornelius Sulla, two champions of the Optimates. As such,
Pompeius had staunchly worked against Caesar’s uncle, the famous gen-
eral Marius, and later, with Sulla, had opposed the consulship of Caesar’s
first father-in-law; when Cinna won that office anyway, Pompeius and Sulla
hoped to block him from doing anything significant by making sure one
of their own supporters achieved the other consulship as a counterbalance
to him.
Young Caesar got caught up in all these tensions upon marrying Cin-
na’s daughter and became himself no friend of Sulla’s; he probably rubbed
Pompeius Rufus the wrong way, too. By the time his marriage to Pompeia
took place, though, all this was years in the past; Sulla had been dead nearly
a decade and Pompeius Rufus almost two (he had been murdered in the
same year as Cinna’s first consulship). Nevertheless, for a Popularis like
Caesar to make such a match with an Optimate daughter, and one of the
highest pedigree in that regard, must have been a very calculated move on
his part. The up-and-coming Caesar must have intended to harness some
of his new wife’s connections “on the other side of the aisle,” so to speak.
This second marriage was not at all long-lived; in fact, it lasted one third
as long as his first. In 62 BCE, Pompeia found herself implicated in a scandal
during the sacred, and all-female, rites for the deity Bona Dea. According
to the rumors, she had arranged to have her maid sneak the young politi-
cian, P. Clodius, into her house during the ceremonies to have an illicit sex-
ual encounter with him. Indeed, rumor had it that they had been involved
650
with one another already, though perhaps not in the physical way modern
people might expect, considering that her mother-in-law, Aurelia, kept an
incredibly tight watch on Pompeia. Clodius was apparently closer in age to
her than her husband, Caesar, and it was not unheard of in that time for
young women of the Roman upper class to have emotionally satisfying af-
fairs outside of their largely politically motivated marriages, as this marriage
surely seems to have been.
Aurelia and her daughter, Julia, both witnesses to what had transpired
at the rites of Bona Dea, testified at an inquiry into Clodius’s actions, but
could not have given any definite evidence against Pompeia, since there was
none. As for Caesar himself, he refused to formally accuse Pompeia of adul-
tery, yet, nonetheless, divorced her. Under Roman law at that time, most
marriages could be dissolved by either partner simply leaving the house and
verbally declaring an end to their relationship, without any need of paper-
work or involvement of government agencies. Caesar actually followed,
with great propriety, the more formal custom of serving Pompeia with a
written notification; since they lived at that time in the Domus Publica,
which was his official residence as Pontifex Maximus, Caesar’s unilateral
decision meant that Pompeia had to move out and find someplace else to
call home.
When asked why he had divorced Pompeia, considering that he could
have lodged a complaint of adultery and had not, Caesar simply asserted
that his wife “must be above suspicion.” In other words, he sacrificed Pom-
peia to bolster his own “spotless” reputation. What happened in her life
afterward, the ancient sources do not reveal.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian Family; Bona Dea; Cinna the Elder (d. 84
BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Cornelia (d. 69 BCE); Dignitas; Marriage/
Divorce; Optimates; Populares; Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE); Sulla (ca. 138–
78 BCE)
Further Reading
Routledge.
Press.
Gruen, E. 1974. The Last Generation of the Roman Republic. Berkeley and Los
651

lishing.
University Press.

The life story of Cnaeus Pompeius (Pompey in English) permeates and
dominates the history of the Late Roman Republic. No other Roman gen-
eral of his or earlier times had as much experience of the far-flung empire
as he nor as much success and influence across it; no one else had risen so
high so soon in his lifetime or by such extraordinary means. Pompey took
full advantage of the possibilities and the problems during the Late Repub-
lic to propel himself into the position of first man in Rome. Only by dis-
lodging him from that place could anyone else in the Roman elite hope to
Marble bust of Pompey, second

century CE, from the National
Archaeological Museum,
Venice, Italy. (DEA/
A. DAGLI ORTI/De Agostini
Picture Library/Getty Images)
652
attain true preeminence. Julius Caesar did just that, at great cost to himself,
to Pompey, and to the Republic.
Pompey’s career began in civil strife, specifically in the conflict known as
the Social War (91–87 BCE) waged between Roman forces and the armies of
Rome’s old allies in the towns of central and southern Italy. He served on
the Roman side, as a staff officer for his father, Cn. Pompeius Strabo, an un-
scrupulous and overly ambitious man; he learned from watching his father
what to do to be ruthless, but also what not to do so as to avoid earning
the hatred of one’s troops (as his father had done). Pompey’s own exploits
in the Social War are unrecorded.
Just as the Romans appeared to be emerging victorious from this con-
flict, they began to engage in another among themselves. This continued
the civil strife of the era but also caused the splintering of the ruling elite of
Rome, the Senate, as one faction, represented by L. Cornelius Sulla, com-
peted for dominance with another, represented by C. Marius and L. Cor-
nelius Cinna. As the Social War melted into this new Civil War, Pompeius
Strabo at first confronted the latter faction and then attempted to come to
an agreement with them; he died before achieving his goals, but his efforts
still secured the chance for his son, Pompey, to remain in Rome once the
faction of Cinna and Marius seized control there.
They did not trust the nineteen-year-old, however; young Pompey pre-
sented a potential problem. The Cinnani tried to keep him off balance in
various ways, holding against him the sins of his father, and allowing him
to cooperate with the new regime only so much. He decided to move to
the region of Picenum (modern Marche in Italy), where his family owned
estates and where his father had built up a substantial clientela (collec-
tion of dependents and supporters). It was from there that Pompey mus-
tered a private army to answer the call of Sulla when the latter renewed the
Civil War against his opponents in 84 BCE. Strictly speaking, commanding
an army as a private citizen went against Roman custom and law, but the
Civil War dissolved such restrictions, and Pompey was not alone. He aided
forces under other private citizens to destroy the Cinnan armies in north-
ern Italy; Sulla then sent him to Sicily and to North Africa to clean up
the enemy holdouts there, receiving official powers from the Senate (now
under Sulla’s control) to do so, again, even though Pompey had held no
office of state.
When Pompey had accomplished his multiple missions, Sulla ordered
him to disband his forces and return home as a private citizen. He refused;
his loyal army backed him up, almost precipitating a mutiny against Sulla.
The latter placated Pompey by arranging for him an unprecedented trium-
phal celebration on his return to Rome in the spring of 81 BCE; Sulla even
greeted Pompey with the title that would stick with him for the rest of his
life, “Magnus” or the “Great One.” Others preferred another nickname,
653
adulescentulus carnifex or “really young butcher,” more in keeping with his

merciless destruction of prisoners, even under safe conduct. At the age of
twenty-five, and still not an official member of the Roman Senate, Pompey
had already achieved a reputation it would have taken others many more
years to reach, and he knew it.
Pompey must have recognized already that his greatest talents appeared
on the field of battle. Over the next two decades, he enhanced his reputa-
tion and rose in prominence by winning wars, in fact, by stealing away the
glory of victory from other commanders.
His first opportunity came in 77 BCE, when M. Aemilius Lepidus the
Elder, whom Pompey had supported politically the previous year, turned
his own army on the Republic for the sake of his own ambitions. The Sen-
ate dispatched Lepidus’s former colleague in office, Catulus the Younger,
to destroy this threat, but also sent Pompey along as Catulus’s deputy,
even though Pompey still held no official position in the government. His
task was to challenge Lepidus’s lieutenant, M. Junius Brutus (father of
the later assassin of Caesar); Pompey forced Brutus to seek refuge in the
town of Mutina (modern Modena) in northern Italy. Besieged and com-
pelled to surrender, Brutus handed himself over on the promise of safe
conduct, but was then executed at Pompey’s command (nothing new for
him, as noted above). Meanwhile, Catulus had defeated Lepidus’s main
army twice and forced him to retreat from Italy. Even so, this fact did not
stop Pompey’s fans from claiming that he had done more to stop Lepidus
than Catulus had.
With the threat of Lepidus’s revolt over, Pompey now sought to extort
another reward, as he had done from Sulla just a few years previously. Catu-
lus ordered him to demobilize his army; Pompey refused, posing the tacit
threat of marching on Rome (as too many generals had done now since
the time of Sulla) and renewing the civil strife. The more traditional mem-
bers of the Senate (the self-styled Optimates) distrusted Pompey, resented
his upstart behavior, and did not want to give him anything, especially not
more military authority.
However, at the urging of the most senior senator, L. Marcius Philip-
pus, the Senate agreed, reluctantly, to send Pompey to Spain as an associate
of Q. Metellus Pius, who was then waging a war against another renegade
Roman general by the name of Sertorius. Metellus wanted only reinforce-
ments, and perhaps an assistant who could help engage Sertorius on two
fronts simultaneously; Rome’s chief magistrates, the consuls, had both re-
fused to accept this role. So, the Senate, unless it wanted to let Metellus
down and confront Pompey militarily, had little choice but to acquiesce in
the selection of Pompey, who was a little too eager for the assignment. A
senatorial decree was passed conferring upon him proconsular imperium
(powers of a governor) in Nearer Spain (roughly the eastern half of Spain
654
today) and an army of 40,000 men; Metellus retained command in Further

Spain (roughly southern Spain).
Metellus Pius was one of the leading Optimates in the Roman Senate,
an associate and former colleague of Sulla. He had already been engaged in
stubborn warfare with Sertorius (who nicknamed him “the old woman”)
for three years by the time Pompey arrived on the scene. The support of
the local populations (native Iberians as well as colonists from Italy) and
the skill of the enemy’s multi-ethnic guerilla army had made it impossible
for Metellus to score clear successes against Sertorius, except in besieg-
ing some of the towns loyal to him. Over the years, Sertorius had simply
strengthened his position all across Spain, not only through military vic-
tories but also through freeing communities from Imperial interference,
granting immunity from war taxes, forbidding the quartering of troops on
the locals, and welcoming political refugees from Rome, establishing them
as an “anti-Senate.”
Sertorius was, therefore, a man deeply feared in Rome: he was an excel-
lent strategist, a master of guerilla tactics, a brave warrior, revered by all
his troops, and especially dedicated to the destruction of the “illegitimate
regime” of Sulla and his partisans. Whether Metellus wanted to admit it
or not, he needed Pompey’s assistance, if for no other reason than to wear
Sertorius’s forces down with superior numbers.
By 75 BCE, the tide began to turn against Sertorius. Metellus slaughtered
his forces in several pitched battles across southern Spain; over the follow-
ing two years, Pompey gained the upper hand against him in eastern Spain.
As Sertorius’s army collapsed under pressure and desertions, one of his own
commanders betrayed and murdered him, only to suffer defeat and execu-
tion himself at the hands of Pompey.
Despite the fact that it was Metellus Pius who celebrated a triumph
for this war, Pompey still claimed to have been the true victor over Ser-
torius. When he finally returned to Italy in 71 BCE, he tried to steal the
victory of M. Licinius Crassus for defeating the slave army of Spartacus.
In fact, Crassus had already destroyed almost the entire rebel force, leav-
ing Pompey only some mopping-up operations against a few thousand
survivors.
Pompey’s attempted theft of the credit intensified the already-smoldering
antagonism between the two men, Crassus being jealous of the much
younger, more militarily renowned Pompey and Pompey fearing the wealth-
ier, more politically connected Crassus. Both recognized that the death of
Sulla, their old boss, had left a void of authority that needed filling. Pom-
pey had emerged from war after war as a strong contender for that position,
but Crassus had the wealth and political influence to rival him. Instead of
quarreling, however, they decided to cooperate in a self-interested effort to
promote their own careers, each demanding a consulship (for which only
655
Crassus was technically qualified) from the safety of their armies encamped
outside the walls of Rome.
The election results were as they had wished, needless to say, and the two
consuls then proceeded to unravel a number of Sulla’s reforms to secure the
further support of voters across Roman society; they behaved in an entirely
pragmatic manner. Pompey even backed a measure to restore political exiles
from the wars of Lepidus and Sertorius. Having amassed a huge clientela
for themselves, Pompey and Crassus retired from office, awaiting bigger
fish to fry than those currently available.
Pompey’s next opportunities, once they came, came fast and furious in
the form of further warfare. In 67 BCE, a special law of the People of Rome
gave him an extraordinary command to suppress piracy throughout the
Mediterranean and especially in the pirate coves of the East; he was assigned
three years and got the job done (allegedly) in three months. Then, in the
following year, another law transferred to him the command of the third
war against King Mithradates VI of Pontus (northeastern Turkey today),
as well as his ally King Tigranes II of Armenia. In both cases, Pompey was
up to his old trick of pulling the rug out from under other commanders,
especially L. Licinius Lucullus, who lost the Mithradatic command despite
his signal successes. Pompey, in fact, simply proceeded by building upon
Lucullus’s achievements. He went further by securing the cooperation of
the Parthian Empire (cousins of the Persians who controlled most of the
Middle East at that time) and even of Tigranes and of Mithradates’s own
son, so that the Pontic king had no one left to rely on. No wonder Pom-
pey’s victory in that theater came so quickly (within a year or so) and he
soon turned to overstepping his authority by involving himself in the af-
fairs of Syria (last remnant of the old Seleucid Empire) and Judaea (an in-
dependent theocracy), both gripped by civil strife at the time. He annexed
the former to Rome’s empire and settled matters in the latter by throwing
Rome’s weight behind one side.
Pompey finally returned to Rome in 62 BCE with enormous wealth har-
vested from the spoils of war for the state treasury, for his officers and men,
and for himself. His success fueled the ambitions of other Roman lead-
ers. Yet, his missions had kept him away from Rome for some time; clients
(like Gabinius) and associates (like Cicero and Julius Caesar), some fiercely
loyal, some simply wanting to ride on his coattails, worked to protect his
interests, but often found themselves in the Senate and law courts of Rome
under attack by those whom Pompey had ruffled. Many of these were Op-
timates, and they prevented the Senate from recognizing the legitimacy of
his diplomatic and administrative arrangements in the East or rewarding his
veterans with grants of land.
It was under these difficult circumstances, where the military man did not
know what to do in the arena of politics, that he was persuaded to ally with
656
Caesar and Crassus to form what we call the First Triumvirate in 60 BCE.
Pooling their resources and influence, they managed for a number of years
to get what they wanted from the Senate and People of Rome. Pompey
began to rise again. For example, when grain shortages and related prob-
lems produced a severe famine in the city in 57 BCE, Cicero (an old friend
since the days of the Social War) strenuously supported the proposal that
Pompey be placed in charge of the entire grain supply of Rome for five years
with authority throughout the empire over markets, ports, and ships.
Pompey was not all that successful in this mission, however, and, mean-
while, his associates, Caesar and Crassus, benefited most from their three-way
partnership. When Caesar’s daughter, Pompey’s wife, Julia, died in 54 BCE
and Crassus died on a campaign against the Parthians in the following year,
Cicero and other friends of Pompey began to work on him to split him
from Caesar and bring him over to the Optimates as their “champion.”
These efforts, in combination with the increasing urban violence at the
time, instigated by political gangs (and perhaps by Pompey himself), con-
vinced the Senate to entrust him with nearly absolute power as sole consul
in 52 BCE. He implemented a number of reforms to restore order and curb
political corruption; later, he took a consular colleague in the person of his
new father-in-law, Metellus Scipio, a staunch Optimate. The handwriting
was on the wall for Caesar, whom the Optimates targeted principally.
As the Optimates turned their focus on bringing down Caesar, and Pom-
pey had come to rely on them for his political position, he had fewer and
fewer opportunities to do any good turns for his former comrade. He tried
to arrange a special dispensation by which Caesar could slide smoothly
from his provincial command (in what is today France) right into a sec-
ond consulship, but the Optimates maneuvered him over and over into
agreeing with them on Caesar’s immediate recall. Caesar consented to re-
turn as a private citizen only if Pompey also relinquished his command
of the Spanish provinces. For nearly two years, debates and machinations
gripped the Senate, with Pompey rarely in control (despite what he might
have believed), until finally, in late 50 BCE, several Optimates took it upon
themselves to appoint Pompey “defender of the Republic” against Caesar.
Taking up that banner, Pompey helped precipitate a new Civil War.
In choosing this course, he counted on his career of military success,
even boasting that all he had to do was stomp his feet on the ground and
thousands of soldiers would come to his aid. Caesar’s lightning-quick inva-
sion of Italy disabused him of such confidence right away and he evacuated
to make Greece the seat of combat. Caesar did not catch up to him until
early in 48 BCE, by which time Pompey had amassed a huge army and navy,
thanks to his connections across the empire and beyond. Pompey even
managed to bottle his rival up in the rough country of western Greece and
defeat him at Dyrrachium (modern Durazzo, Albania) in mid-summer. But
657
a month later, it was Caesar who emerged victorious at the Battle of Phar-
salus, a battle that the Optimate commanders basically forced on Pompey,
and the “Great One” had to flee for his life.
Seeking refuge with the royal family of Egypt (who had been clients
of his), Pompey still had the resources, though perhaps not truly the
spirit, to continue the fight. Unfortunately, advisors to the young Egyp-
tian king, Ptolemy XIII, chose to murder Pompey rather than grant him
a new base of operations. He lost his life, stabbed and then beheaded, on
September 28, 48 BCE.
Caesar saw to it that Pompey’s remains, cremated by some of his com-
rades, were sent to his widow, Cornelia Metella, for burial at his estate in
the Alban hills. This was the least that could be done for such a renowned
Roman general. A popular hero, especially among Rome’s soldiers, Pom-
pey had come to see himself as the indispensable champion and defender of
the “best people” in the state. To satisfy his desire for their allegiance and
their approval, he had to betray his partnership with Caesar, who had, in
fact, supported Pompey for so many years. Pompey allowed Caesar to be
maneuvered into a corner, as though he could control the latter’s downfall,
and, instead, precipitated his own.
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Cicero,
Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53
BCE); Curio (d. 49 BCE); Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE); Equites; Extraor-
dinary Commands; Jews; Julia (d. 54 BCE); Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE);
Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius (ca.157–
86 BCE); Mithradates VI (134–63 BCE); Optimates; Parthia; Patrons and
Clients; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Piracy; Populares; Ptolemy XII Au-
letes (d. 51 BCE); Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE); Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE);
Spain; Spartacus (Film 1960); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Triumphs/Trophies;
Triumvirate
Further Reading
Anderson, W. S. 1963. Pompey and His Friends. Berkeley and Los Angeles: Univer-
Ltd.
Greenhalgh, P. 1980. Pompey: The Roman Alexander. Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press.
658
Pontifex Maximus
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
Pontifex Maximus
Despite the fact that Julius Caesar seems to have been among those Ro-
mans who, influenced by Greek skepticism, developed philosophical
doubts about the gods, he nonetheless highly valued, at least in public,
Detail from a marble statue of Octavian-Augustus as Pontifex Maximus (Chief Priest

of Rome), late first century CE, now in the Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rome, Italy.
His head is covered by his toga, as was traditional for Roman priests in the process of
making sacrifices to the gods. (Mondadori Portfolio/Getty Images)
659
Pontifex Maximus
the religious practices and institutions of Roman culture. Among these in-
stitutions, none had greater importance than the various priesthoods, and
among the priests, none was greater than the Pontifex Maximus, the chair-
man of the college of pontiffs. Caesar himself sought that coveted position,
and attained it, in 63 BCE.
The Supreme Pontificate was not Caesar’s first religious office. His
father-in-law, Cinna the Elder, had appointed him, when he was in his late
teens, as Flamen Dialis, Priest of Jupiter; there were fifteen flamines, each
caring for the worship of a particular Roman deity. Certainly, this would
have been a great honor for such a young man as Caesar at the time. Since
there was no term limit for or retirement from priesthoods in Rome (with
the single exception of the Vestal Virgins, who could retire from their du-
ties after thirty years), he would have been expected to serve as Flamen
Dialis for the rest of his life. However, the dictator Sulla, who seized power
by destroying the faction of Cinna in a Civil War, removed Caesar from his
position only a few years after his appointment, actually doing him an un-
intended favor in this way; Caesar was no longer bound by the strict rules
of ritual purity traditionally demanded of flamines, especially the Flamen
Dialis (e.g., not riding a horse, not being near corpses, and not leaving the
environs of Rome), which would have held back his career in politics and
warfare.
Caesar’s appointment to the flaminate by Cinna must have come with
either the open or tacit consent of the pontiffs (pontifices); the flamines
belonged to the wider college or association of pontiffs, which included
also the sixteen priests known specifically by the latter title, who held the
highest rank in the Roman religion. Evidence from the Late Republic sug-
gests that, depending on the particular moment in history, more than one
method might be employed to replace deceased pontiffs, and flamines, by
new ones: either election by the voters or nomination and cooptation. In
the latter, members of the college, as well as top political leaders (it seems),
suggested men for the vacant post, after which the members discussed the
options and arrived at either a consensus or a majority decision about whom
they would co-opt, or add, into their group. In 73 BCE, they added Caesar
as a pontiff in this way.
Since the third century BCE, election had been the rule, however, for
choosing the chairman of the pontifical college, the Pontifex Maximus.
A special assembly of voters from seventeen of Rome’s thirty-five tribes
(originally actual districts of Roman territory, later simply groups of vot-
ers a citizen belonged to by virtue of ancestry or appointment) gathered
to select the new Chief Pontiff from a number of candidates who put their
names forward. Caesar, already a member of the college for a decade, pre-
sented himself as such a candidate upon the death of the Pontifex Maximus,
Metellus Pius, in 63 BCE. He competed with two others who were much
660
Pontifex Maximus
older and more experienced than he, Q. Lutatius Catulus the Younger and
P. Servilius Vatia Isauricus. To gain an advantage over them, he employed
considerable sums of money to bribe the voters in his favor.
Caesar fought for this position with great determination, spending well
beyond his means and so placing himself dangerously in debt (he warned
his mother, Aurelia, that if he did not win the election, she would never see
him again—presumably, he would have had to flee Rome to escape his credi-
tors), and refusing to bow out of the race when Catulus tried to pressure
(and bribe) him to do so. Certainly, the position on its own merited a certain
POPE JULIUS II (R. 1503–1513)

In 1503, a cardinal of the della Rovere family who already held the
name of a Roman emperor, Giuliano or Julian, became pope and
took the name of the Late Republic’s greatest general, as Pope Ju-
lius II. Of course, he technically chose the name in recognition of his
strong, fourth-century predecessor, Pope Julius I (a Roman whose
birth name was Julius and thus, in some distant way, was related to
the same clan as Caesar), but Julius II’s huge fascination with the
greatness of ancient Rome certainly also played a part. Even the new
pope’s looks (tall, thin, and good-looking), personality (restless and
purposeful), and interests (collecting antiques and pursuing women)
matched Caesar’s.
A beneficiary of flagrant nepotism, a patron of magnificent artists,
like Michelangelo and Raphael, and architects, like Bramante, and a
supporter of classical learning, Julius II embodied the spirit of the Re-
naissance, the revival of ancient Greek and Roman culture in a new
age. He laid the foundation stone of the St. Peter’s Basilica we see
today in Rome, had the Vatican galleries built to house antique sculp-
ture, and, like an ancient senator or emperor, imagined grandiose
schemes for the enrichment of his capital city. Yet, above all else, Ju-
lius II, like that Roman general whose name he assumed, possessed a
passion for military action; even at age sixty, he displayed the strength
and decisiveness of a young warrior, feeling better-suited to that call-
ing than the role he played as pontiff. He mobilized and personally
led his armies into victory over foes across central and northern Italy,
ambitious to unite the entire peninsula under his authority and cast
out all influence of foreign powers, except those which allied with
him. Though the pope’s efforts were not entirely successful in the
end, Julius Caesar would have been proud of Julius II’s achievements.
661
Pontifex Maximus
amount of this determination, as it presented not only one of the highest

honors for a Roman aristocrat but also quite a few useful powers. After all,
Caesar would rise from being just one of the pontiffs to being their leader
and spokesman; under his strong guidance and personality, they would or-
ganize Rome’s official annual calendar, oversee adoptions, burials, wills, and
certain marriages, advise the government on matters pertaining to the gods,
and supervise the other priestly colleges; as Pontifex Maximus, he would have
special responsibility for the most respected women of Rome, the priestesses
of Vesta, and appoint the rex sacrorum (“king of sacred things”) who per-
formed specific rites once conducted by the early kings of Rome. Finally, un-
like the other pontiffs, who lived in their own homes in various parts of the
city, as Supreme Pontiff, he would have an official residence, the Domus Pu-
blica, and headquarters, the Regia nearby, historical landmarks at the eastern
end of the Roman Forum, right in the city’s political and commercial heart.
Still, there was another angle to this, a political one, that perhaps gener-
ated the strength of Caesar’s determination to win. He was already steadily
rising up the ranks of the Roman military and political hierarchy, but he
desired to gain an even greater name for himself, particularly at the ex-
pense of Catulus and Servilius. These two men had both served under, and
risen to prominence thanks to, Sulla the dictator. Catulus had been a per-
sonal enemy of both Caesar’s uncle, Marius, and his father-in-law, Cinna
the Elder; Servilius, in collusion with Sulla, had tried to prevent the latter
from gaining his first consulship. On top of all that, Catulus and Servilius
eagerly sought to replace the deceased Metellus Pius, who had also been
a henchman of Sulla and a close associate of theirs in the Civil War against
Caesar’s relatives. In other words, the post of Pontifex Maximus had been
held by one of the Optimates (aristocrats who considered themselves “best
suited” to lead) and two further Optimates hoped to continue that hold.
To let it fall into the hands of a Popularis (a “rabble-rousing” aristocrat),
like Caesar, was unthinkable to them; for him, on the other hand, it would
be a great symbolic victory, a form of political (and familial) vengeance.
In the final analysis, Caesar narrowly won election as Pontifex Maximus,
thanks to outspending his rivals; it is said that even the fellow tribesman of
Catulus and Servilius, who traditionally were expected to vote for one of
their own, instead overwhelmingly threw their support behind Caesar. His
victory pretty well neutralized Servilius, whose son eventually became a fol-
lower of Caesar, in fact, but it seriously antagonized Catulus, who spent the
remainder of his life attempting to thwart Caesar and his associates.
Caesar utilized his religious office for purposes of his own, including po-
litical ones. Most famously, in 59 BCE, in his capacity as Pontifex Maximus,
he convened one of Rome’s most ancient assemblies, the Comitia Curiata,
over which he presided to conduct the formal transfer of a man named
P. Claudius Pulcher from patrician to plebeian status; this took place
662
Popular Assemblies
through a particular process of adoption (as noted earlier, the Pontifex

Maximus had a special role in adoptions), where Claudius was formally re-
moved from his patrician family and adopted by a member of a distantly
related plebeian branch of the family called Clodius. Thereafter, he became
one of the chief henchmen of Caesar and his associates, Crassus and Pom-
pey, in their efforts against the Optimate opposition; as a plebeian, Clodius
could become tribune of the plebs and raise massive popular support (in-
cluding violence) for his side against the other.
The office of Pontifex Maximus was too important for Caesar to neglect
during his long absence as governor in the Gallic territories. In his place,
he approved deputies from among the other pontifices in Rome, such as
M. Licinius Lucullus, who served in that capacity at least in 57 BCE.
Holding a priesthood in Rome had nothing to do with following an in-
spired vocation. Priests were merely the religious personnel of the state,
representing the community as a whole through rituals, sacrifices, prayers,
and other ceremonial forms of communication with the gods. As in Cae-
sar’s case, one did not even need to be a “true believer” to be a “good”
priest. The common ground of religion and politics, inseparable in Roman
eyes, thus made priesthoods, especially the post of Pontifex Maximus, de-
sirable and useful in terms of political advancement.
See also: Ambitus/Bribery; Calendar; Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Clo-
dius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Forum Romanum; Optimates; Patricians; Plebs; Pop-
ular Assemblies; Populares; Regia; Religion, Roman; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE);
Triumvirate; Vestal Virgins
Further Reading
Thames and Hudson.
ing.
Popular Assemblies
No one can claim that the Roman Republic functioned as a democracy. The
People of Rome, however, did have many opportunities to play a pivotal
part in politics through multiple institutions for voting.
663
Popular Assemblies
In the early days of the Republic’s formation, the Senate’s proposals and
the magistrates it selected were approved by popular vote, that is, by the
men-at-arms, the adult male citizens of Rome gathered together in the Co-
mitia Curiata, the Assembly of Curiae or Curiate Assembly (which had ap-
parently also been utilized as a sounding board by the early kings of Rome).
The Curiae were the thirty wards of early Rome; the early Roman army
was apparently mustered into thirty divisions according to city district. The
Senate would call the fighting men to assemble outside the main Senate
House, the Curia Hostilia, in a section of the Roman Forum referred to as
the Comitium (paved for this purpose as early as the seventh century BCE,
as archaeology shows us); the men separated into their thirty groups ac-
cording to ward and then voted by shouting in favor or against whatever or
whoever was presented to them by the Senate.
During the fifth and fourth centuries BCE, important adjustments were
made to these arrangements, primarily as a result of conflicts between the
patrician families and the most prominent and ambitious among the plebe-
ians. For example, perhaps as early as the 460s BCE, the adult male citizens
of Rome were mustered on the Campus Martius, the Field of Mars just out-
side the city limits, not according to the ward they lived in but according
to their wealth in land and their age, that is, according to the data recorded
by the Roman census; this gathering was called the Comitia Centuriata,
the Assembly of Centuries or Centuriate Assembly. There were 193 cen-
turies by Caesar’s day, and, though each may have originally consisted of
one hundred voters, in his time, most would have consisted of hundreds or
thousands of voters. Consuls or praetors would summon the voters first ac-
cording to level of wealth in land (i.e., class, as the Romans understood it),
and then divide the members of that class by age into iuniores/junior citi-
zens (men of forty-six years and younger) and seniores/senior citizens (men
of forty-seven years and older); then, the presiding magistrates divided each
age-class group (e.g., all the seniors of the first class) into a designated num-
ber of centuries (e.g., forty centuries were assigned for the seniors of the
first class). From the surviving descriptions, there was a certain arbitrariness
here in terms of how many men were actually assigned to each century; the
main thing was to organize the voters into 193 groups.
This assembly of voting soldiers had the special function of passing dec-
larations of war and peace and of trying cases demanding capital punish-
ment of citizens when the accused had appealed to the People of Rome for
a hearing. It also assumed from the old Curiate Assembly the responsibility
of annually electing consuls and praetors (i.e., the top magistrates with im-
perium) and of electing censors every five years. Finally, it assumed the task
of passing new laws for Rome.
During the course of each year, the consuls or praetors would call the
voters and their families together in what was known as a contio, where
664
Popular Assemblies
those officials would present proposals of their own or from the Senate for
new legislation; they would also set the date, by law at least three market
days later (about twenty-four days), on which that legislation would be
brought before the Centuriate Assembly for a formal vote. In the mean-
time, at that contio or at others convened before the day of the assembly
meeting, the people gathered would have a chance to ask questions about
the proposed law or laws and would usually listen to speeches from vari-
ous officials, senators, or other leading citizens, all selected by the presiding
magistrates, speaking in favor or against the legislation; in theory, anyone
who had an interest in the issue could speak on it, as long as he or she was
recognized by the presiding magistrates. This was the extent of the citizens’
role in “debating” such proposals. Once a proposal was made at a contio, it
could not be amended until the contio held on the day of the formal vote.
Voting on candidates, bills, declarations, and trials in the Centuriate As-
sembly began with the wealthiest centuries and proceeded down to the
poorest. In the case of bills and declarations, a ballot distributor called
each voter of a century forward and handed him a waxed wooden tablet
on which to inscribe his vote, “V” for “yes” or “A” for “no”; in the case
of trials, the decision called for a vote of “L” for “free” or “C” for “con-
demned.” (For voting on candidates, see the heading “Elections”.) Some-
times, the ballots had the appropriate letters marked on front and back, and
the voter simply crossed out the opposite of his choice (e.g., voting “yes”
by crossing out the letter “A”). The voter then walked across a ceremonial
bridge to deposit his tablet into a basket watched over by poll guards, who
later handed the tablets over to the ballot counters.
The centuries of the first two (highest) property classes normally agreed
on matters to such an extent that they frequently achieved a majority of
centuries (ninety-seven) with their votes alone. Since voting stopped once
that majority of centuries was reached, the voters in the centuries of the
third, fourth, and fifth classes, and certainly of the “under-class” (the larger
and larger number of landless voters called capite censi, worth something
“by head,” or proletarii, worth something because they had proles/kids),
usually never even had a chance to vote in this system. The fewer, wealthier
Roman men of the higher census classes, controlling more votes per capita
than the rest of the Roman citizenry, thus dominated electoral, legislative,
and judicial outcomes almost every time.
Despite the clear favor shown toward the wealthiest citizens (and then,
within that group, toward the older citizens), the new Assembly of Centu-
ries did allow participation in major decisions by many more Roman men
(e.g., the wealthiest plebeians), crossed the division of voters by residence
found in the old Curiate Assembly, and provided a wider voice to voters
(193 “delegations” instead of 30). Always traditional, the Romans did re-
tain the old Assembly of Curiae for certain ceremonial functions, but each
665
Popular Assemblies
of the original thirty districts in Caesar’s time simply sent one representa-
tive to the meetings of the assembly.
The Centuriate Assembly offered wider representation, but most plebe-
ians belonged primarily to the lower classes, and so would often or at least
usually not have the chance to make a difference in their voting. Even those
who were in the wealthier centuries still felt shut out of the magistracies and
Senate, which the patricians attempted to monopolize. Yet, the plebeians
paid their taxes and defended Rome in frequent wars with its neighbors
in Italy. Feeling disenfranchised, the plebeians periodically seceded from
Rome in protest and, sometime in the fifth century BCE, they convened
their own Concilium Plebis or Meeting of the Plebeians, organizing the
plebeian voters by tribe (place of origin or residence) rather than wealth or
age; eventually, all Roman citizens were registered in four urban tribes and
thirty-one rural tribes, where the tribe no longer corresponded to where
you lived but where your ancestors had lived.
Once established, the Meeting of the Plebeians met in the Roman Forum
right outside the Curia or Senate House, in the space of the Comitium for-
merly used by the Assembly of Curiae. The Concilium Plebis drafted its
own strong recommendations, really demands, for the Senate and Centuri-
ate Assembly to consider; these were called plebiscites. The plebeian voters
also elected ten tribunes of the plebs and two plebeian aediles to protect
their interests. The balloting process mirrored that of the Centuriate As-
sembly, but the tribes of the Meeting of the Plebeians voted in an order de-
termined by lot, not by wealth or age, until a simple majority of tribal votes
passed a plebiscite or elected an official.
The patrician voters and senators, probably hoping to pull the rug out
from under this new assembly, an assembly which kept them out, created
in response the Comitia Tributa or Assembly of Tribes, organized by tribe
just like the Concilium Plebis and gathered in the Comitium, but convened
by the consuls or praetors and including patrician and plebeian voters. The
Assembly of Tribes, like the Meeting of Plebeians, could conduct trials in
cases where the offense did not merit the death penalty, but the former as-
sembly could also enact laws because both patricians and plebeians were
represented in it. Yet, the Assembly of Tribes never replaced the Meeting
of the Plebeians. Instead, in the early third century BCE, a bill passed in the
Assembly of Centuries recognized plebiscites as laws binding on all citizens,
just like laws passed in the other two assemblies.
By the lifetime of Julius Caesar, Roman eyes focused on the Comitia
Centuriata especially when it came to elections and on the Concilium Plebis
especially when it came to enacting most forms of legislation. This is why
it was important for ambitious politicians, like Caesar himself, to learn how
to cultivate the voters in both bodies with different, tailored promises and
forms of pressure.
666
Populares
See also: Courts; Elections; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Patricians; Plebs;

Senate; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Crawford, M. H. 1996. Roman Statutes. London: University of London Institute
of Classical Studies.
of Michigan Press.
Press.
Taylor, L. R., and J. Linderski. 2012. Voting Districts of the Roman Republic. Ann
Arbor: University of Michigan Press.
Vishnia, R. F. 2012. Roman Elections in the Age of Cicero: Society, Government, and
Voting. London and New York: Routledge.
Watson, A. 1974. Law Making in the Later Roman Republic. Oxford, UK:
Clarendon Press.
Populares
Populares (singular, Popularis) is a political label from the period of the
Late Roman Republic. It may refer, in a positive sense, to working for the
genuine good of the People of Rome or, in a negative sense, to pandering
to the lowest common denominator among the masses for personal gain.
Julius Caesar had the reputation of being a Popularis in both senses.
If we accept the stories of Rome’s past as told by later Roman histori-
ans (like Livy), then almost all politicians of the Republic were populares
in some sense. That is to say, they sought the favor of the populace and
catered to the wishes of the voters, keeping the general public complacent
and supportive through spectacles, choreographed acts of generosity and
assistance, and even glorious military campaigns abroad. Such things shared
out the wealth of the elite among the populace and provided entertain-
ment, employment, sustenance, and communal pride. In other words, most
Roman leaders claimed to exercise their wealth and power “for the good of
the People,” the essence of such behavior stemming from the tradition of
patrons and clients, where the more powerful and wealthy in Roman soci-
ety gained the attachment and backing of the more vulnerable and less well
off by an exchange of favors.
In the earlier generations of the Republic, most Roman leaders could
not offer much more to their clients (or the public at large) than their fel-
lows could; as the empire increased in size, however, the spoils and honors
667
Populares
of war also increased, as did the competition for them among these leaders,
and some did rise above their fellows. To maintain parity, and social and
political stability, many Roman senators appealed to old traditions, to play-
ing by strict rules and regulations; in Caesar’s time, such senators insisted
that this way was “best” (optimus) and that they, as followers of this way,
were the best men to lead the state, the Optimates. Those politicians who,
instead, sought to chart their own course, often against or over the other
senators, appealed to the People of Rome, primarily the voters and the sol-
diers; sometimes, they did so for the real benefit of the People and the com-
mon good, but more often, such Populares utilized populism as a means of
leverage against their senatorial rivals.
Number one on a Popularis politician’s “things-to-do-list” was land re-
distribution. This went back to the greatest heroes of the Populares, the
brothers Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, plebeian tribunes in the late sec-
ond century BCE. They had hoped to rectify problems of homelessness,
displaced war veterans, overcrowded cities, and decline in the number of
citizen-farmers (as opposed to the increase in the number of slaves work-
ing in the plantations of the super-wealthy) essentially by taking excess
landholdings from the rich and redistributing that farmland to the poor.
Massive numbers of citizens supported these reformers, even when this re-
quired circumventing the will of the Senate and taking new laws directly
to the voters in the Popular Assemblies. Understandably, their opponents
in the Senate resisted all this; stunningly, they turned to violence to elimi-
nate the reformers.
Others followed in the footsteps of the Gracchi, however, including,
over sixty years later, Julius Caesar. On becoming consul in 59 BCE, he pro-
posed a measure for land redistribution to the poor. When the Optimate
leaders of the Senate, including his own consular colleague, Bibulus, vigor-
ously opposed this and other proposals, Caesar copied the very heroes of
the Populares, the Gracchi brothers, by deliberately circumventing senato-
rial approval altogether and bringing his new legislation directly before the
voters, probably in the Tribal Assembly. At the time, Caesar had the full
cooperation of two other powerful politicians, Crassus and Pompey, who
brought all their resources to bear in the form of supportive voters, money,
and armed men to get around any resistance. Like famous Populares before
him, Caesar disregarded precedent, tradition, and obstruction to get things
done, he claimed, “in the interest of the People.”
In itself, marshaling one’s client-voters together to support a bill was not
exclusively a Popularis method, though the scale of it in this case did har-
ken back to the style of the Gracchi. The application of money to win votes
was also not exclusively Popularis; in truth, the enormously wealthy sena-
tors and candidates for public office regularly bribed the citizens for votes
in one fashion or another, perhaps in money, perhaps in public banquets,
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Populares
or perhaps in spectacles. Long before the poet Juvenal coined the famous
phrase, “bread and circuses” were the primary means of social control and
winning votes. Opponents insisted, however, that the Populares were some-
how the only ones doing such things, or, if they conceded this as an exag-
geration, that the Populares appealed to and encouraged the baser traits of
the citizens, not their highest ideals or intellects.
Of Caesar’s methods in getting through his land reform, it was the
bypassing of the Senate in favor of the Popular Assemblies and the use
of armed intimidation and force that were distinctly Popularis. The first
method, as noted, the Gracchi brothers had introduced to achieve what
they believed necessary for the public good in the face of strong senatorial
obstructionism. The second entered the political arena especially with Cae-
sar’s uncle, General Marius, and the latter’s henchman, Saturninus. This
plebeian tribune established the precedent, right around the time of Cae-
sar’s birth, of deploying veteran soldiers, landless, needy, determined, and
discreetly armed, in the voting areas of the city, where they pressured men
to vote Saturninus’s way or not at all and even murdered rival politicians.
Though Saturninus himself later died by political violence, and his actions
blemished the reputation of Popularis politicians generally, the military cli-
entela had entered Roman politics and continued to play its part down the
years, as in the case of Caesar’s land bill.
Another typically Popularis policy Caesar supported was the extension of
Roman citizenship within Italy. This also went back to the Gracchi broth-
ers, specifically Caius Gracchus, followed by plebeian tribunes of the early
first century BCE, like Livius Drusus and Sulpicius Rufus, and even a consul,
Caesar’s own father-in-law, Cinna the Elder. Each sought to integrate more
of the populations of Italy fairly and fully into the Roman citizen body and
political structure, and each was willing to use just about whatever means
required to overcome opposition. In Caesar’s own case, the target pop-
ulation for enfranchisement were the Transpadani (meaning “across the
Padus” or Po River), the non-Roman, mainly Gallic, inhabitants of north-
ernmost Italy. They had been agitating for full citizenship rights for nearly
two decades by the time Caesar got involved himself; he encouraged them
to continue and supported other leaders, like his friend Crassus, in the ef-
fort to grant the demands of the Transpadani. They attained their goal fi-
nally in 49 BCE, thanks to Caesar, who, then in his capacity as dictator, could
not be stopped by resistant senators.
Speaking of such, perhaps Livius Drusus, and definitely Sulpicius Rufus
and Cinna the Elder, had faced resistance from the Optimates’ latest and
greatest hero of their time, Sulla, and Sulla believed, according to the fa-
mous anecdote, that there were “many Mariuses” in Caesar. So, his familial
association alone with both Marius and Cinna gave a start to Caesar’s Pop-
ularis bent and, from the Optimate perspective, placed him firmly in their
669
Populares
company, tarring him with the same brush. He went further still, though,
and long before the famous consulship of 59 BCE. As a young advocate in
the law courts, merely in his early twenties, Caesar boldly took on the pros-
ecution of two of Sulla’s former henchmen. He did not gain a conviction in
either case, but he proved himself clearly to be an opponent of Sulla, and,
by virtue of that, a Popularis.
Over the next decade or so, Caesar found other opportunities to use
the law courts against old members of Sulla’s faction (especially as judge
in 64 and 63 BCE) and he continued to define himself as promoter of the
memory of Sulla’s fallen enemies. In the late 70s BCE, for example, he sup-
ported the recall of those exiled because of their (basically) anti-Sullan
activities and the restoration of all privileges to the office of plebeian tri-
bune, which Sulla had essentially crippled (to prevent another Gracchus
or Saturninus or Sulpicius from rising up). In 69 BCE, when Caesar deliv-
ered public eulogies in honor of his aunt Julia and his wife Cornelia, he
heralded the famous men connected with them, Julia’s husband, Marius,
and Cornelia’s father, Cinna the Elder. Finally, in 65 BCE, when he re-
placed the trophies of Marius on the Capitoline Hill, those Romans who
had supported Marius in the old days felt hopeful, according to the Greek
biographer Plutarch, that a new champion of the Populares had arisen.
In spite of the potential risks (many of their comrades had been exiled or
executed by the government in the time of Marius), hundreds, perhaps
thousands, of them came out of hiding, so to speak, to gather around the
new trophies and congratulate Caesar for his bravery. Emotions ran high
and deep. The leading Optimates of the Senate, most of whom had ve-
hemently stood against Marius, were appalled by Caesar’s action, but the
public response of so many citizens meant that they could only criticize
Caesar, not reverse what he had done, at least not without generating
large-scale unrest.
Optimates charged that Populares, like Caesar, were, in fact, not seeking
the common good of the People of Rome at all but rather a means by which
to rise to control the state. The Senate as a whole, and the Optimates in
particular, had a tremendous fear of such domination; this went all the way
back to the founding of the Republic in the late sixth century BCE, when
members of the Senate overthrew the monarchy of the Etruscan kings and
vowed never to allow such one-man rule again. Fear of this happening ap-
peared with Tiberius Gracchus, whom many senators believed had sought
to foment a popular revolution and ride the wave of it to rule Rome, and
yet again with the multiple, consecutive consulships of Marius and later
Cinna, who had short-circuited the collegial checks-and-balances of the
Republic, thanks to massive popular support, and, finally, it was thought,
with Caesar. Indeed, senator Catulus, one of the staunchest Optimates,
openly accused Caesar not of restoring the Marian monuments out of sense
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Populares
of family loyalty or justice but as a first assault against the state, a maneuver
in his plan to seize power over Rome with the help of a duped populace.
Caesar’s opponents realized the threatening level of his popular support
two years later during the senatorial debate over what to do with the co-
conspirators of Catiline. Evidence proved that Catiline and his followers
had plotted to eliminate many leaders in the government and seize control
for themselves or for their cronies; though neither an Optimate nor a Popu-
laris in his earlier career, Catiline in recent years had been appealing to the
commoners by promising them various forms of government assistance, in-
cluding relief from debts. Clearly, his motivation was personal power, not
the popular welfare, and so his plot reinforced the prejudice many senators
already had toward so-called Populares. When Caesar tried to prevent the
outright execution of Catiline’s co-conspirators, he quickly found himself
implicated as their accomplice, based on the vague accusations of several of
his senatorial opponents. When he attempted to clear himself of the sus-
picions a few days after the debate, crowds of people gathered outside the
Curia (the traditional Senate House) to await the outcome, and since its
doors were usually open, they could hear the argument among the senators
growing louder and angrier. The people outside began shouting for Cae-
sar’s release, as though the Senate was holding him and about to execute
him, like it had done to the co-conspirators of Catiline. Caesar, perhaps,
owed his life to this popular response. In its aftermath, the most admired
Optimate of the time, the plebeian tribune Cato, to quell the ill feelings
of the general public and the danger he saw of riots or even revolution,
arranged for what seems to have been an increase in the number of poor
people who could receive discounted grain from the state. Ironically, easing
tensions in the populace by filling their bellies was a very Popularis measure
to pass, going back to Caius Gracchus.
The military defeat of Catiline’s rebel army at the hand of forces dis-
patched by the Optimate-led Senate seemed to spell the end of Popularis
agitation. In that same year, 62 BCE, the Optimates, threatening force, even
compelled Caesar to resign from his praetorship in seeming disgrace. Yet,
the people came to his rescue again, huge crowds of them surrounding his
home at the edge of the Roman Forum for his protection and insisting that
they themselves would reinstate him to office. The Senate caved at the sight
of this popular uproar and confirmed Caesar as praetor.
Besides Catiline and Caesar, other Populares, real or imagined, rose to
prominence in the later period of the Republic. Clodius was one. He fit the
negative stereotype of the Popularis much better than Caesar did: he had
fomented a mutiny against his own brother-in-law, Lucullus, one of the
leading Optimates; he had suspicious connections with Catiline and had
snuck into Caesar’s house during the sacred rites of Bona Dea, allegedly to
have a sexual encounter with Caesar’s wife. Thus, Clodius had developed a
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Populares
reputation as an immoral, impious, anarchistic, rabble-rousing criminal, an

Optimate’s exact picture of a Popularis. During his trial for the Bona Dea
scandal, Clodius certainly received large-scale popular support; his judges
may have acquitted him, thanks to bribery, but they also felt thoroughly
intimidated into doing so by the many angry people who crowded around
the meeting place of the court on Clodius’s side. Among Populares, Clo-
dius proved himself to be the loosest of loose cannons, but Caesar saw
the advantages for himself of Clodius’s popularity, taking him, and keep-
ing him, on his own team until stereotypical political violence cut Clodius
down.
Populares in Rome did not form a unified group, then, and certainly
not a political party in the modern sense. Indeed, Popularis senators often
worked more against one another than with one another in their pursuit of
very personal ambitions. Yet, they had in common the antagonism of the
Optimates and the same grab-bag of Popularis methods and policies dating
back across a century of political turmoil.
See also: Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Bona Dea; Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cato
(95–46 BCE); Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84
BCE); Citizenship; Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53
BCE); Curia; Debt Laws/Loans; Dictator; Eulogies/Imagines; Gaul Cisal-
pine/Gallia Cisalpina; Land Reform; Legal Profession; Lucullus (118–57
BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates; Patrons and Clients; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
Grant, M. Cicero: Murder Trials. New York: Penguin Publishing.
of Michigan Press.
endon Press.
672
Prison

Routledge.
University Press.
Prison
Unlike in modern society, especially in the United States, where imprison-
ment at public expense in public facilities, that is, incarceration, is a wide-
spread method of punishing citizens within the legal system, in ancient
Rome, imprisonment did not really rate as a common penalty, in and of
itself. As a result, the Roman Empire had very few public prisons. Instead,
the peoples of the empire regarded incarceration as temporary detention
while awaiting one’s true punishment.
Laws that governed Roman citizens in particular prescribed juridical
punishments, such as being barred from the law courts, from accepting an
inheritance, or from making a commercial contract; political punishments,
such as being exiled from the city of Rome or being banned from holding
public office or voting in Roman elections; pecuniary punishments, such
as fines or confiscation of assets; corporal punishments, such as flogging;
and capital punishments of various sorts, depending on the crime. Being
removed from society at large, whether for a short or long period of time,
through the method of incarceration was not included within the list of
possible penalties among the Romans themselves. The closest things to
long-term public imprisonment, in a modern sense, would have been hard
labor or penal servitude, but again, the actual locking up was not the pun-
ishment, rather being forced to work hard for someone else was.
Other populations within their empire would have felt the same as the
Romans did on this matter. For instance, when Caesar was a young man in
his twenties, Cilician pirates captured him during a voyage in the Aegean
Sea. After they released him for ransom, he tracked them down, captured
most of them, and placed them in the prison facility at Pergamum (in west-
central Turkey today). They knew that this was not punishment, however;
they were under detention awaiting official action from the Roman gov-
ernor in that region. When the latter failed to punish the pirates, Caesar
took it upon himself to do so; every last one of them was crucified at his
command. This was a common penalty for any lower-class citizens, or in
this case, provincial subjects, caught engaging in piracy and kidnapping
on the high seas; if, by some strange twist, they had been upper-class Ro-
mans, they would have received a punishment of exile at best, execution
by beheading or strangulation at worst, but, regardless, not a penalty of
imprisonment.
673
Prison
Convicted criminals, then, might be temporarily detained in a public

prison structure. Enemy combatants captured in warfare shared the same
fate, awaiting their time of execution, normally by means of strangulation.
Famously, for example, Caesar’s Gallic opponent, Vercingetorix, was held
in the Carcer, Rome’s only formal prison facility (from which our English
word incarceration derives), located at the foot of the Capitoline Hill along
the western edge of the Forum Romanum; it was perfectly designed for the
purposes just noted, as it consisted of one small holding cell above and one
small execution cell below, connected to the sewer system of Rome. Once
strangled, the detainee was simply and immediately dumped into the sewer
system, his body flowing from there into the Tiber River and thence out
into the Mediterranean Sea (if it lasted that long before decomposition).
Imprisonment in Rome often served political purposes. When Caesar
held the office of consul in 59 BCE, he faced a number of senators who in-
tended to resist him at every turn, for personal and political reasons. Fore-
most among them was Cato, Caesar’s staunchest critic by far. Cato spoke
out boldly against Caesar in the Senate and before the People of Rome,
attempting to prevent the passage of several laws proposed by Caesar that
would have benefited himself and his close allies, Pompey and Crassus. In
an effort to silence Cato temporarily, Caesar ordered his bodyguard to ar-
rest him and take him to the Carcer.
The crowds of voters gathered in the Forum Romanum to listen to their
political leaders could witness all this with ease, as the Carcer was very close
to the Senate House (Curia) and to the People’s Assembly (Comitium). In-
carceration of this kind was intended primarily as a means of humiliation, to
put the “troublemaker” “in his place” for all to see, and, thus, was meant
to be very public.
Caesar fully expected Cato to resist such treatment by appealing to the
plebeian tribunes, magistrates who could prevent, through their right of
assistance (ius auxilii), a consul from arresting anyone, on the grounds of
injustice or excessive use of power. Cato, however, followed along with the
guards without making any fuss and, indeed, without uttering a sound.
This roused the sympathy of the Roman citizens present, as well as mem-
bers of the Senate, many of whom were following along with Cato in an
attitude of depression, as if he were going off to his death. Caesar realized
that his attempt to utilize incarceration as a weapon in his political war with
Cato had backfired; he personally appealed to one of the tribunes to ar-
range for the release of Cato through the ius auxilii. Caesar, of course, did
this in private, not publicly, so as to maintain his image of toughness.
Whether a method of publicly disgracing someone or holding him or
her temporarily in custody until the application of fitting penalties, impris-
onment in the Roman context thus meant something very different than it
does in modern times.
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Propaganda
See also: Capitoline Hill; Cato (95–46 BCE); Courts; Forum Romanum; Pi-
racy; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
York: Routledge.
University Press.
Johnston, D. 1999. Roman Law in Context. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Jones, A.H.M. 1972. Criminal Courts of the Roman Republic and Principate.
sity Press.
Robinson, O. F. 2000. The Criminal Law of Ancient Rome. Baltimore: Johns Hop-
Propaganda
Julius Caesar perhaps exceeded his contemporaries in his adeptness at pro-
paganda, that is, for disseminating his ideas and especially his image, across
the Roman world. This is not to say that other Roman leaders did not do
the same, since it was ingrained in their culture and their politics to engage
in self-promotion, often shameless, whenever possible. One’s honor and
one’s position in the Republic were at stake.
In the early years of his career, Caesar utilized his gift of eloquence as
well as his affable personality to win over voters, soldiers, judges, and sena-
tors to his point of view. He developed a self-image as a firm but kind-
hearted man, a believer in mercy over ruthlessness, a friend of the people
despite his richly blue-blooded ancestry. He utilized cases in the Roman law
courts and issues in the Senate to attack the former supporters of the dic-
tator Sulla and the latter’s still-surviving policies; he revived the memories
of Sulla’s discredited enemies, especially Caesar’s own father-in-law, Cinna,
and uncle, Marius. Every word and action of his seemed to herald the same
message: Julius Caesar was the challenger to the current string-pullers in
the Roman Senate, the self-styled Optimates; even if he would not bring
about their downfall, he would at least bring them a great deal of grief. His
support for the ever-rising general Pompey the Great factored in to this as
well; Pompey frequently ripped the glory away from Optimate command-
ers in the field, thanks to the support of their rivals in the Senate and espe-
cially thanks to massive admiration from the voting public, who practically
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worshipped Pompey. In speaking out on behalf of Pompey and enhancing

the latter’s image, Caesar also enhanced his own.
During his absence for nearly a decade in the region of Gaul (roughly
modern France and Belgium), Caesar’s propaganda continued through his
friends and agents on the ground in Rome, but especially through his let-
ters to many senators and others, as well as his dispatches to the Senate. By
all these means, he now developed a different message about himself: Cae-
sar was the unbeatable general, conquering all the odds (and all the “bel-
ligerent,” “rebellious” tribes of Gaul) with an army of strong, devoted,
unbelievably loyal men. In true Roman fashion, he asserted that he never
engaged in war unless provoked and that he always fought with the inter-
ests of his men’s lives, Rome’s glory, and his own honor at heart. No one
could learn of his exploits among the “barbarians” and not regard Caesar
as a larger-than-life hero.
Caesar toned this down, a bit, in writing about the war he started against
his rivals in Rome, especially Pompey. Aside from the memoirs in which he
later published his account of events, he delivered many speeches in cities
and military camps across the empire and wrote many letters to persons,
Romans and non-Romans, and to whole communities. Caesar insisted
that he sought nothing more than his just due from the political system
of Rome. He repeatedly tried to reassure all those on the enemy side, and
especially those caught in the middle, that he would approach them with
clemency. His position was that his rivals (and not necessarily even Pompey,
who had been duped by their mutual enemies) had driven him to military
action, that all he wanted was peace.
A brief letter encapsulating all this survives, from Caesar himself, cop-
ied to one of those middle-of-the road senators, the famous orator Cicero,
from its original recipients, Balbus and Oppius, two of Caesar’s closest con-
fidantes. In the letter, Caesar clearly acknowledged that he was trying to
avoid the fate of someone like Sulla, who had also invaded Italy in Civil
War, and had won, but at the price of incurring undying animosity; instead,
Caesar sought to deliberately win “all the goodwill” of his fellow citizens by
a new method, through “kindness and generosity” in warfare.
Still, and often, Caesar spoke to the Senate, to his soldiers, and to his ad-
versaries, of his wounded dignitas or “sense of worthiness.” Everyone came
to know that Caesar would do anything to protect it and the term became
synonymous with his name.
Caesar did have fervent enemies in the Roman Senate; a number of them
intended to strip him of every honor and punish him for past wrongdoings.
They spread false rumors about his maneuvers to invade Italy and, more
significantly, about his desire to rule the Roman world as a sort of tyrant.
Even the moderate senator, Cicero, who knew Caesar well personally and
had benefited from his kindnesses, still feared that the general would return
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Propaganda
SOME SAYINGS ABOUT JULIUS CAESAR

From M. Porcius Cato:
Out of all those who attacked the Republic in order to overturn it,
Caesar was the only sober one.
From Pompey the Great:

Caesar determined to throw everything into confusion and turmoil
[i.e., start a Civil War] because he could neither fulfill nor satisfy the
expectations of the People upon his return nor the projects he had
undertaken out of his own resources.
to Rome as Sulla had done years earlier, with death and destruction as his
agenda. These negative attitudes toward Caesar, not entirely based on re-
ality but rather a form of propaganda distorting his character and aims,
eventually contributed to his assassination. In the meantime, such thinking
propelled his opponents, like, for instance, Pompey’s father-in-law, Me-
tellus Scipio, to regard Caesar as a complete criminal, an enemy of the
Republic, and to treat prisoners from the latter’s army with great cruelty
as a just reward not only for their treason but also for their “wickedness.”
In other words, for Caesar’s die-hard enemies, the Civil War had become
a contest between good and evil, the oldest categories in the playbook of
propaganda.
In the aftermath of his military victories, Caesar’s self-promotion re-
ceived a huge boost from the Senate, now largely composed of his support-
ers or those who had surrendered to him. They voted him every honor in
the book and then some. Through titles and grants of extraordinary pow-
ers, and by way of statues of himself and his face upon coins, Caesar the
dictator conveyed the image, as he himself put it, of his being the only thing
standing between the Republic and its demise. He protested quite deliber-
ately (perhaps too deliberately) against being declared a king, but did not
mind being declared Pater Patriae, “Father of his Country,” a title con-
ferred only once before, on Cicero for saving the Republic from the Con-
spiracy of Catiline. The new propaganda, thus, promoted him as a savior, in
blatant disregard of all the damage and slaughter he had unleashed for the
sake of his dignitas.
Caesar’s assassination ushered in the last phase of propaganda about who
he was and what he signified. In this phase, his principal political heirs,
Marc Antony and Caesar Octavian, ensured that he received honors as a
god, Divus Iulius. The murderers of Caesar, who regarded themselves as
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Liberators—freeing the Roman world from tyranny—suffered defeat and

disgrace as “traitors” and killers of “their father.”
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Bellum Civile (Cae-
sar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Catiline
(ca. 108–62 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Courts; Dictator;
Dignitas; Divus Iulius; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gloria/Glory; Honor; Hostis;
Ides of March; Letters; Memoirs; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Op-
timates; Oratory; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Rex; Senate; Sulla
(ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Press.
University Press.
lishing.
Hudson.
Proscriptions
In classical Latin, to proscribe something (proscribere) meant originally to
advertise or publicize it in writing. Thus, proscriptions often consisted of
posters listing items for private sale or confiscated goods (e.g., from crimi-
nal proceedings or war) up for public auction. The dictator L. Cornelius
Sulla added another meaning; besides listing property on the auction block,
he listed the names of the prominent citizens who owned that property,
identifying them as enemies of the state (in his estimation), and authorizing
any citizen who wished to kill that property owner as an act of patriotism,
with impunity. Thereafter, when Romans used the term “proscription” in a
political context they typically meant “wanted, dead not alive.”
Sulla came to this decision in the final stage of the Civil War he waged
against the faction of C. Marius and L. Cornelius Cinna, which was then
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Proscriptions
in control of Rome. Both of his chief adversaries were already long dead by
the time Sulla emerged victorious near the end of 82 BCE; other leading op-
ponents had fallen on the field of battle, some even committing suicide to
avoid capture. Nonetheless, since Sulla prided himself on harming his en-
emies (and helping his friends), the killing did not end with the battles. He
executed thousands of unarmed prisoners of war from towns in Italy that
had sided with his adversaries; some of this was punishment for standing
against him, some an example, a form of deterrent, to warn other would-be
“rebels.”
Still not satisfied, especially because he sought the near-total destruction
of the opposing faction so that it could never rise again, Sulla took a page
out of his own past and expanded upon it. When he had served as consul
back in 88 BCE, about a dozen fellow senators had caused considerable po-
litical trouble for him; once he had gained the upper hand in the crisis, he
declared them public enemies, hostes, which authorized their being hunted
down and killed, pretty much by anyone who caught them. In the event,
only one of them was caught and executed (the leading “trouble-maker,”
Sulpicius Rufus), while the rest managed to escape into hiding. Sulla could
have taken exactly the same course again at the conclusion of the Civil War,
making formal declarations against each enemy survivor he wanted to see
destroyed; according to various sources, certain senators did ask him point
blank to identify such enemies. He decided to simply list their names on
wanted posters.
Though the recorded evidence for exactly who and how many found
their names on Sulla’s proscription lists, and how many actually died as a re-
sult, poses a lot of problems, in terms of accuracy, consistency, and interpre-
tation, it is clear that he published several lists, apparently naming hundreds
of senators and equestrians in Rome, not to mention hundreds of leaders
in the other towns of Italy. Not all of the condemned were politically dan-
gerous; a number, in fact, had their names added to the lists to satisfy the
personal grudges or greed of Sulla’s henchmen. He further announced that
anyone who harbored the proscribed or tried to save them forfeited life
themselves; not even the claim of family ties merited exemption. With the
proven death of each wanted man would come a large monetary reward to
the killer, whether soldier or civilian, free person or slave, and perhaps also
a portion of the deceased’s confiscated property (though much of the prop-
erty ended up sold at auction to various henchmen of Sulla, such as Lepidus
the Elder, Catiline, and, most famously, Crassus, who thereby started his
rise to becoming the richest man in Rome).
Not only were many lives snuffed out and much valuable property gob-
bled up by Sulla’s supporters, but the surviving male relatives of the pro-
scribed faced specific prohibitions that limited their rights as citizens, such
as their sons and grandsons not being allowed to serve in public office or as
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Proscriptions
officers in the military. Others who managed to escape death had to remain
in hiding, often in exile from Italy, to stay alive.
The dictator Sulla’s reign of terror traumatized populations across the
Italian Peninsula, leaving many wounds that never truly healed and, in fact,
contributing to strife and unrest for decades afterward between those who
benefited and those survivors who had suffered from proscription. People
recorded horrifying tales of slaughter, sometimes exaggerated, sometimes,
sadly, all too true. New political crises of any magnitude generated fears,
whether founded or not, of renewed executions and confiscations; fiery po-
litical rhetoric and propaganda might even deliberately threaten proscrip-
tions as a means to intimidate opponents or throw them off balance.
The eighteen-year-old Julius Caesar experienced all this first hand; as the
nephew of Marius and the son-in-law of Cinna, with many other ties to
their followers, Caesar’s head started on the chopping block. If it had not
been for members of Sulla’s own faction standing up for the young man,
he would likely have ended up on a proscription list. The whole scene of
bloodshed and families ruined left a deep impression upon him and in-
formed his own conduct three decades later.
At that time, when another Civil War ripped the Republic apart, many
of Caesar’s opponents and those who tried to remain neutral feared that he
would institute a new wave of proscriptions, partly to compete with Sulla’s
power, partly to exact revenge for all the obstacles his opponents had placed
in his path since Sulla’s day. Even Cicero, the famous orator and statesman,
who, like Caesar, had lived through Sulla’s terror and, more than that, was a
personal friend of Caesar’s, nonetheless expressed his worries about Caesar
doing the same thing as Sulla, if not doing something worse. During the Civil
War Caesar waged against Pompey’s faction, however, and when he emerged
victorious from it, he refrained from proscribing anyone, despite deep frus-
tration and anger with his senatorial enemies. Instead, he pledged to treat as
a friend anyone who did not take up arms against him and he spared those
who did fight against him when they submitted to him afterward (including
Cicero, who was still somewhat shocked at Caesar’s clemency).
Caesar’s successors did not follow his example and, indeed, regarded his
merciful behavior as his undoing. His lieutenants, Antony and Lepidus the
Younger, and his adopted son and heir, Octavian, sought to stay alive at all
costs and remove obstacles from their path; they also sought to lay their
hands on as much wealth and property as they could within Italy to fund
their military campaign against the murderers of Caesar. In fact, this latter
motivation was probably the primary one for the renewal of the proscrip-
tions, since their worst enemies were already preparing to take the field of
battle against them.
When the three men teamed up as a Triumvirate in the fall of 43 BCE, they
issued proscription lists condemning over 100 senators and 2,000 equestrians
680
Proscriptions
CAESAR’S CLEMENTIA
While his chief rival, Pompey, insisted that he would treat as an enemy
and a traitor anyone who did not take his side in the Civil War, Ju-
lius Caesar, staying true to form, promised toleration and especially
mercy, clementia. Though some doubted the sincerity of his pledge,
anyone who had previous experience of Caesar’s behavior in warfare
knew that he prided himself on sparing adversaries. Caesar sought not
to hold grudges. He forgave those who wrote and spoke against him.
He allowed friends of Pompey who had served with him in the past
to join the opposing side if they wished, without penalty. He did not
execute prisoners of war and granted to his own men the right to save
comrades from the enemy side, enjoining them, in fact, to “spare all
citizens” during the bloody Battle of Pharsalus, for instance. Caesar
offered full pardon to all previous opponents who chose to work with
him, though he did seldom offer such pardon more than once. All this
benefited Caesar, of course, as it eased the burdens of warfare, placed
individuals in his debt, and enhanced his own reputation for great-
ness. Indeed, after all his victories in the Civil War, the Senate dedi-
cated a temple to the spirit of Clementia in his honor.
(note especially the latter, targeted mainly for their wealth); to add to the
harshness and horror of this, and demonstrate their irreversible commit-
ment to one another, Antony included his own uncle in the lists and Lepi-
dus his own brother, while Octavian sacrificed Cicero, the patron who had
done most to win over senators to the young man’s cause in the first place.
In the end, many of the listed senators got off (including those two relatives
of Antony and Lepidus), thanks to the intercession of others and the ar-
ranging of deals that usually involved a sizeable transfer of cash; the eques-
trians listed were not usually as lucky. The Triumvirs had, thus, gone one
better than Sulla, not only eliminating the most troublesome “enemies”
and confiscating for themselves and their partisans a great deal of land and
huge fortunes from such “enemies,” but also welcoming some “enemies”
back into the fold of friendship for a hefty price.
Cicero suffered the most humiliating end for a Roman; apparently with
no chance or offer of reprieve, he was to serve as the main example of what
would happen to those who resisted the Triumvirs in the political arena.
Captured by his pursuers outside his villa south of Rome, he was beheaded
and his right hand cut off as well. Both of these were then displayed on the
Rostra or Speakers’ Platform in the Roman Forum, from which Cicero had
delivered so many famous speeches to the assembled citizenry. Some say
681
Proscriptions
that Antony’s wife at the time, Fulvia, whose reputation (along with her
husband’s) had been assaulted repeatedly by Cicero, as an act of revenge
gleefully stuck pins in Cicero’s hand and tongue, the sources of his invec-
tive and his influence. Scholars believe that the rest of his body received
a proper burial. Cicero’s fate, together with that of the other proscribed,
terrified what was left of the Senate into submission. Afterward, the Tri-
umvirs increased its “depleted” membership with their own cronies.
Fear of proscriptions hovered over the politics of the Late Republic after
Sulla set his precedent. Perhaps no other policy did as much damage to the
fabric of Roman society and their values of concord and citizenship.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62
BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Crassus
(ca. 112–53 BCE); Equites; Forum Romanum; Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE);
Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Mourning/
Funerals; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Pro-
paganda; Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Ltd.
Gruen, E. 1974. The Last Generation of the Roman Republic. Berkeley and Los
nesota Press.
Lintott, A. W. 1968. Violence in Republican Rome. Oxford, UK: Clarendon
Press.
lishing.
Morstein-Marx, R. 2004. Mass Oratory and Political Power in the Late Roman
Republic. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Rawson, E. 1994. Cicero: A Portrait. London: Bristol Classical Press.
682
Provinces
Provinces
When alliances and treaties with foreign populations were not enough to
maintain strategic security or law and order in a region under Rome’s in-
fluence, the Romans annexed the region as a province; this was how the
Roman Imperium, the rule of Rome, spread throughout the Mediterranean
world—in a piecemeal fashion, province by province.
Originally, a province (provincia in Latin) was a military commander’s
sphere of operations. It remained a flexible term throughout the era of
the Republic, but gradually came to refer to a specific conquered region.
This made more sense in some places, like Sicily, which was obviously well-
delimited as an island, than in others, such as the two provinces of Spain,
where not only were the geographic limits of each province not as clear,
but where constant wars with local populations often extended or altered
those limits, making them fluid borders over a long period of time. The
arrangement of conquered territory into a province was usually carried
out by a magistrate with imperium (power to command and right to be
obeyed), sometimes but not always the magistrate who had in fact con-
quered it, assisted by a ten-man commission with general guidelines sent
from the Senate. Together, they set up a lex provincia, a sort of provincial
charter that delimited the general boundaries of the province and estab-
lished a pattern of administration as a precedent for future governors. Not
all provinces received such a charter and not all leges provinciae were pre-
cise documents. They might even be put in place long after the territory
had been treated as a province, as in the case of Sicily, a province from the
late third century BCE that received its lex provincia only in the late second
century BCE.
At the time of Julius Caesar’s birth, there were nine defined provinces of
the Roman Empire: Sicily, Sardinia-Corsica, Nearer Spain, Further Spain,
Illyricum-Macedonia-Achaea, Africa, Asia, Gallia Narbonensis (Transalpine
Gaul), and Cilicia; during his lifetime, six more were added: Bithynia, Cyre-
naica, Pontus, Syria (these last two added by Pompey), Gallia Comata, and
Numidia (these final two added by Caesar himself). Though vitally strate-
gic to the security of Italy, Cisalpine Gaul was usually considered neither a
province (though Caesar did receive it as such) nor part of Italy, but rather
a sort of appendage; it was usually assigned to whichever consul remained
at home during his year of office, who administered it through legates.
The lives of most provincial subjects of Rome were affected not directly
by the Roman Senate, nor even by some overall provincial policy of the
Empire, but by the individual provincial governor sent out by the Senate
to rule over those subjects. Popular anger within a province was directed
toward this man and his staff, soldiers, and tax collectors. For Rome’s sub-
jects, the governor and his men were Rome.
683
Provinces
For much of the Republic, it was traditional for the two highest magis-
trates known as consuls to leave Rome to govern provinces after their nor-
mal year of office was up; they were then referred to as proconsuls. Four of
the next highest magistrates, the praetors, were expected to govern specific
provinces (Sicily, Sardinia-Corsica, and the two Spains) during their normal
year of office. In Caesar’s day, the Roman Senate would select which prov-
inces were up for assignment during or just before the elections of consuls
and praetors, which took place in the summer. When these officials as-
sumed office at the beginning of the following year, they would either agree
among themselves which province each would take or more often draw lots
to determine who would get which one. For example, Caesar’s contem-
porary, Cicero, won over his consular colleague’s cooperation by offering
to switch provincial assignments with him (instead of leaving things as the
lots had fallen out), giving him the more profitable province of Macedonia
instead of Cisalpine Gaul, for which Cicero settled. The custom of posting
the provincial assignments around election time allowed the candidates for
consul and praetor to know more than a year in advance where their pro-
vincial governorships might be and to get prepared for them; it also pre-
vented the Senate from rewarding successful candidates (friends, perhaps)
with plum governorships after their election.
These arrangements took care of six provinces for a year’s time, but there
were other provinces, and there was often more time required for a gover-
nor to complete his tasks. In the lifetime of Caesar, to handle the overload
in territory and time, and open more opportunities for the select few who
attained high office, the Senate adopted a policy of sending consuls out to
govern provinces already in their year of office (though usually late in that
year) and to continue governing through the next. In addition, praetors
(other than the four noted earlier) were expected to serve a year’s term in
Rome and then were sent to govern provinces in the following year. The
Senate also extended these governorships, all referred to as proconsulships
in Caesar’s day, beyond one year, and called up former praetors and con-
suls to serve multiple times as promagistrates (e.g., Cicero was summoned
out of retirement a decade after his consulship to serve again as governor,
this time of Cilicia). Governors could have open-ended terms, then, with
the very real possibility of extension (prorogation), remaining in a province
until a replacement arrived, but, under the law of treason (reformed by
Caesar himself), promagistrates could not govern for more than two years,
were forbidden to leave their province without good cause, and had to va-
cate their province within thirty days of the Senate’s order to return.
The Senate determined the powers given to a governor, depending on
the task at hand and the military forces assigned to his command, and a
governor’s financial resources, based on his proposed expenses. In addi-
tion, many governors relied on access to provincial treasuries (fisci) collected
684
Provinces
from local taxes and deposited by former governors. They might also make
or utilize deposits with overseas businesses (societates).
Governors were not paid any kind of salary. They and their staffs were al-
lowed to acquire (or extort) from the provincials in loot, taxes, and beyond
taxes, as much wealth as they needed, or as much as they could get, to make
more than a tidy sum as a compensation for themselves. Cicero castigated
his predecessor in Cilicia, who had virtually ruined the province economi-
cally by his exactions and extortions, in cahoots with his staff, troops, and
private Roman businessmen. This had happened despite the fact that eight
years earlier, Julius Caesar, as consul, had passed a law through the Centu-
riate Assembly that severely restricted what governors could demand from
provincials.
Imagine that under the Republic the Romans governed millions of pro-
vincials with virtually no administrative apparatus. A governor received pe-
titions on various matters from the subject population, maintained law and
order, and guaranteed the flow of tax revenue to Rome, along with many
other administrative, judicial, and military tasks, but had no permanent,
experienced staff to aid him in carrying these out. Instead, a style of make-
shift administration developed, one that could change potentially every
year, which allowed and indeed encouraged corruption, inefficiency, de-
centralized chaos, and often lots of trouble.
Cicero told his brother Quintus that the most important thing for a
governor to do was to protect his own reputation, primarily by maintain-
ing a staff above reproach. A governor usually had a small official staff,
approved by the Senate. His quaestor, chosen by lot from among those
annually elected, mainly had charge of financial matters, but he also acted
as deputy to the governor in other respects, even though the quaestor was
usually quite young, with little experience. A governor selected his chief
assistants, three legates, from men of senatorial rank, to help him in any
way necessary; they often handled military matters or judicial cases or sat
alongside the governor in his consilium (advisory court). Below the legates
in the military chain of command stood the military tribunes, cavalry pre-
fects, and other senior officers. Ironically, none of these men necessarily had
great military experience; they were handpicked favorites of the governor,
experienced or not. With the governor also came an accensus (a freedman
chief of staff), scribae (record clerks), lictores (bodyguards), viatores (mes-
sengers), praecones (heralds), and haruspices (diviners), all of whom, like
the other staffers, received funds from the Roman treasury. At least these
men were usually chosen from expert panels (decuriae) registered in Rome.
Along with the staff, there was also usually a large group of the governor’s
personal attendants, like cooks, doctors, servants, and comites or “guests,”
friends, family members, clients, and so on, who came out with him as per-
sonal advisors on legal, financial, or military matters, as his eyes and ears or
685
Provinces
special agents, to learn the ropes of Roman empire (this was true especially
of the young men known as contubernales), or simply to hunt for economic
opportunities in a new land. A governor also might delegate responsibilities
for law and order and public works to local officials, backed up by threat of
military force.
The Roman governor had imperium; he was first and foremost a military
commander in the field. In some provinces, Roman legions were stationed
as a sort of standing army, which could be quite a burden on local com-
munities because the Romans during the Republic built few permanent
fortresses of their own, instead usually quartering troops on the local popu-
lation. Other governors relied on provincial soldiers, native allies, and/or
expatriate Romans or Italians residing in a province as auxiliary garrison
forces.
The Roman governor also appointed judges and juries, took securities
and pledges, arrested, punished, and applied other coercive force to crimi-
nals. Each governor published an edict, in which he laid out which es-
tablished private and public laws of Rome and which new ones he would
implement in his province, often adapting these to fit local customs or pro-
cedures. At certain times of the year, he or his representative would visit
each of the conventi, circuit court districts, into which his province had
been divided, to mete out justice.
A sense of justice, a concern for reputation, or for order and balance of
power motivated governors to do right by their provincial subjects, while
their wide judicial latitude often led to corrupt and criminal behavior. De-
cisions of governors were usually final, not subject to appeal even by resi-
dent Roman citizens in capital cases. A Roman patron could approach the
Senate to defend the interests of provincials against a governor, however,
or the Senate itself might act as arbitrator in significant provincial disputes.
The Senate and People of Rome allowed governors a great deal of lati-
tude while in office, but they also encouraged them in various ways to stay
in line. Each governor received specific instructions from the Senate before
he set out for his province, instructions that told him the limit of his com-
mand in terms of territory and in terms of treatment of subjects and neigh-
boring peoples, especially allied states; he was also expected to follow the
precedents of his predecessors in office and the lex provincia. On his return
to Rome at the conclusion of his term, the governor had to give an account
of his official conduct to the Senate; under a number of laws, he was subject
to any punishment that body might deem fit. The Popular Assemblies, that
is, the voters, could weigh in on this as well. Fear of prosecution after office
was a strong inducement to good gubernatorial behavior.
From available evidence, it appears that there were few totally rapacious
governors and few really upstanding ones. For the most part, provincial
rule worked well enough: most Roman officials were conscientious, orderly,
686
Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE)
and relatively honest; local governments functioned with little interference

from Rome. And living in Rome under the Senate was not that different
from living in the provinces under a senatorial governor. In most areas, that
is, the corruptions of government were the same as they had always been;
the Romans can perhaps only be faulted for not making an impact through
beneficial reforms. But this was part of their laissez-faire attitude and policy;
even in Italy, they sanctioned the survival of local systems (especially aris-
tocratic) and customs as long as they were not a threat to the security of
the state, as long as men, materiel, and taxes came in on time. The Romans
sought political, strategic, and economic stability and control with a mini-
mal commitment from themselves (through personnel, armed forces, and
colonies), and if native ways attained these goals, native ways could stay; if
not, they were stamped out as much as practicable.
See also: Britain; Courts; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisal-
pina; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum;
Senate; Spain; Taxation/Tax Farming
Further Reading

Never much respected by his subjects, who viciously called him “the bastard-
king” or “the flute-player” (auletes in Greek, because of his love of playing
the instrument that the ancient peoples associated with prostitutes), Ptol-
emy XII of Egypt, nonetheless, factored greatly in the geopolitics of his age.
He gained leverage against his domestic enemies by forging close connec-
tions with some of the most important Roman leaders of his day; these, in
turn, utilized his political weakness and his character flaws, as well as his re-
sources, to their advantage in promoting their own interests within the em-
pire. Ptolemy XII’s troubles, including his choice of heirs to succeed him,
invited more Roman interference in Egyptian affairs, while his example also
taught one of those heirs, his daughter Cleopatra, how to deal with the
Romans and, she hoped, how to beat them at their own game.
Dynastic turmoil had plagued Egypt for generations by the time of Ptol-
emy XII; he both profited and suffered from this. His father, Ptolemy IX,
had been expelled from the kingdom in favor of the latter’s brother, Ptol-
emy X; it was probably soon afterward that Ptolemy XII was born, the il-
legitimate son of the exiled monarch. For nearly twenty years, while the
boy lived in exile in Syria, his father fought back against close relatives to
regain the throne, which he finally did in 88 BCE, expelling his brother in
687
the process. Ptolemy X attempted to get his revenge, first, by continuing

the family feud, and, then, when that failed, by handing over the kingdom
to the Roman Empire in his will.
Ptolemy IX ignored this and ruled for eight more years, but his death
at the end of 81 BCE opened up another moment of trouble. His nephew,
Ptolemy XI, seized power and appealed to the Senate and People of Rome
for confirmation, thus bringing in the “big guns” to back up his claim.
The Roman government exercised its options (dubious more than right-
ful, considering the complex circumstances) of either establishing a prov-
ince in Egypt or recognizing a continuing monarchy there; they chose to
do the latter and supported Ptolemy XI. Literally within weeks, however,
citizens from Alexandria, the capital city, murdered him, leaving the throne
vacant once again. His cousin, Ptolemy XII, finally had the chance to stake
his own claim.
To maintain his throne, Ptolemy had to juggle the competing forces
of the Alexandrians and the Romans; he not only needed the approval of
the latter, who still regarded themselves as the true “owners” of Egypt,
but he also had to quell the anger of the former, who resented foreign in-
terference and the grasping tendencies of the greedy royal family. Certain
Romans craved the storied wealth of Egypt and the power it would give
them in their own political arena. So, for example, in 65 BCE, M. Licinius
Crassus, a principal associate and friend of Julius Caesar, proposed the
annexation of Egypt as a province, apparently on the pretext of a press-
ing need for tax revenue, which, in his capacity as censor, fell within his
purview; already the richest man in Rome, if Crassus had succeeded in
his scheme (especially of personally skimming off the Egyptian treasury),
his wealth would have been astronomically greater than any of his peers.
His colleague, Catulus the Younger, put a stop to this plan. Not long
after (and probably not coincidentally), Caesar himself won over some of
the plebeian tribunes to propose a law conferring upon him a special gov-
ernorship over Egypt (even though he was only an aedile at the time and
thereby ineligible for such an appointment), using the continued turmoil
in the kingdom as his excuse. The Optimates, the conservative members
of the Senate who had already begun to oppose Caesar’s rise to promi-
nence, stopped his scheme, too.
This did not end the story, for during Caesar’s consulship in 59 BCE,
Ptolemy secured his position (or so he thought) with the official title of
“friend and ally of Rome,” which he bribed Caesar to arrange for an enor-
mous promise of 6,000 talents (i.e., about 300,000 pounds of precious
metal, probably in coin). Caesar shared this reward with Pompey, one of his
chief associates at the time, who also put his considerable political influence
behind it; Pompey had welcomed the king to stay as long as he needed at
his villa in the lovely Alban hills, just south of Rome.
688
How much they actually received from Ptolemy is yet another story, be-
cause it required merciless taxation of his subjects, especially the Alexandri-
ans, to amass such a sum, and they responded by rising up in a rebellion the
following year, chasing the king out of his own realm. Having fled to Rome
for protection, he solicited assistance in being restored to his throne. A
delegation of one hundred prominent Alexandrian citizens also made their
way to Rome, however, to defend their actions through formal statements
of complaint against the king, including not only the high taxation by force
but also his acquiescing in Rome’s absorption of the island of Cyprus from
his brother. Ptolemy determined to silence them. Despite his challenging
circumstances, the reach of his power and influence is indicated by the fact
that he arranged for most of the delegates to be murdered, even within
Rome itself; he bribed or terrorized the survivors into quiescence.
Yet, to return to Egypt, he still needed Roman support because he
needed the might of the Roman army to protect him. The Senate took its
time discussing what to do about his case. In the fall of 57 BCE, there was
some movement toward sending Lentulus Spinther, who would take up
governorship of Cilicia (today’s southern Turkey) the following year, to re-
store Ptolemy by military means at that time; Ptolemy himself objected to
this, wishing Pompey to take up the task.
Not very long into 56 BCE, Caesar’s many-times colleague in office,
M. Calpurnius Bibulus, proposed to the Senate that three special commis-
sioners be dispatched to Egypt with orders to restore Auletes to his throne;
following the guidance of a religious oracle at the time, Bibulus included
in this proposal the provision that none of these commissioners have im-
perium, the right to command armies. This was intended deliberately to
make the commission unappealing to the three most glory-seeking sena-
tors at the time, Caesar, Crassus, and especially Pompey, as well as a number
of their cronies and others, and would have made the restoration a purely
diplomatic action rather than the opportunity for military aggrandizement.
Crassus agreed with the idea of a three-man commission but implied that
Pompey not be excluded on the grounds of his military record.
Still other motions were also put forward, all variations on the themes
already presented. Bibulus’s proposal had the support of the consuls of
56, the sort of thing which often swayed the votes of other senators, but
this time a large majority of the latter objected to it. They also objected to
a similar proposal, brought by one of the plebeian tribunes, that Pompey
be sent to Egypt as sole special commissioner (again, without imperium),
which Ptolemy had also thrown his weight behind, as a last resort.
Despite all this, in the following year, unofficial military help did ma-
terialize for the ousted Ptolemy, then living in Ephesus (in western Tur-
key). This help came from A. Gabinius, governor of the Roman province
of Syria. Gabinius was one of Pompey’s closest supporters and he received
689
a letter from him (likely with the consent of Crassus, who held the consul-
ship in Rome with Pompey at the time, and of Caesar, who was still associ-
ated with both of them in the Triumvirate) to see to the king’s restoration.
Ptolemy also won over Gabinius with a handsome promise of 10,000 tal-
ents (i.e., the equivalent of 500,000 pounds of silver). Even when most of
his officers opposed taking up this task, one of them, the young prefect of
cavalry, Marc Antony, then about twenty-eight years old, eagerly encour-
aged his commander to do so; Antony was seeing his first military experi-
ence under Gabinius’s governorship and he believed the campaign in Egypt
would bring himself great military glory.
Gabinius disobeyed the will of the Senate and People of Rome, ignored
regulations about leaving his province to engage in warfare beyond its bor-
ders, and marched southward, conducting military operations along the
way in the allied kingdom of Judaea. Antony led the way into Egypt itself
by capturing the key fortress of Pelusium, on the border of Egypt and Ju-
daea, thereby unlocking the kingdom with his cavalry. He also appears to
have kept Ptolemy under control when the latter wished to punish his re-
bellious subjects with wholesale massacre, though he did not prevent the
execution of Berenice, the king’s daughter and acknowledged leader of
the rebels. Antony probably had his first meeting with another daughter
of Ptolemy, Princess Cleopatra, then about fourteen years old, during this
campaign. Her father never did pay off Gabinius with the whole prize he
had expected, but the latter, nonetheless, followed through on his end of
the bargain, even stationing Roman troops in Alexandria to back up Ptol-
emy in the event of any further trouble. In fact, it was Gabinius who would
face the trouble, convicted for his disobedience by the Roman courts and
sent into exile.
Ptolemy’s reliance on the Romans to maintain power, his schemes to
raise the cash he promised them, and his execution of family members (e.g.,
his daughter Berenice, whom the Alexandrians favored) made him look
weak and cruel among his subjects. They greeted his death in 51 BCE with
joy and relief, but his passing did not end Rome’s part in the demise of the
Egyptian kingdom, as his children soon discovered, some to their dismay
and one to her advantage.
See also: Alexandria; Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Crassus
(ca. 112–53 BCE); Egypt; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces; Ptolemy XIII
(d. 47 BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
690
Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE)
Press.
Ltd.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.

When Pompey fled to Egypt after the victory of his chief rival, Caesar, in
the Battle of Pharsalus (48 BCE), he hoped to find refuge and assistance
from the children of Ptolemy XII Auletes, whom he (and his former as-
sociates, Crassus and Caesar) had confirmed on the throne some years be-
fore. Instead, the fifteen-year-old king Ptolemy XIII, then at war with his
sister/queen, the twenty-one-year-old Cleopatra VII, followed the sug-
gestions of his chief advisors to have Pompey killed on arrival. They hoped
this would please Caesar; instead, their decision set Ptolemy XIII on a col-
lision course with Rome and set in motion the rise of Cleopatra to promi-
nence.
Four of his children survived Ptolemy Auletes, two sons and two daugh-
ters. His last will, drawn up eight or nine years before his death in 51 BCE,
bequeathed his kingdom jointly to the elder of his sons, who took the name
Ptolemy XIII, and to the eldest of his daughters, which turned out to be
Cleopatra (because, by then, her big sister, Berenice, had already been ex-
ecuted for treason). Auletes made sure not only to keep a copy of his will
in Egypt but also to convey one to Rome, where Pompey kept it secure. In
this way, the king demonstrated his continuing loyalty to the Roman Em-
pire, recognizing and reminding the Romans of their stake in the Egyptian
royal family.
Ptolemy XIII exercised little power at first in comparison to Cleopatra,
not surprising considering the difference in their ages and her high level of
education, but he was, still, the titular head of state. His advisors feared, for
691
his sake and for theirs, that his sister would never relinquish her hold on the
government, even when he came fully of age. Without bothering to consult
with young Ptolemy, they looked for ways to take Cleopatra down.
One of those ways, apparently, was to stir up anti-Roman sentiment
among the people of Egypt when Cleopatra decided to provide military aid
to Pompey’s side in the Roman Civil War. She was, of course, simply fol-
lowing in line with her late father by doing this, but her subjects had not
appreciated his cozy relationship with the Roman Empire; Ptolemy’s sup-
porters played on this hostility, especially within the Egyptian army and
among the ever-volatile Alexandrians, who had been forced in the past to
foot the bill of paying off the Romans. Cleopatra found herself ousted.
Ptolemy’s principal advisor, Pothinus the Chamberlain, then ruled the
country, with the young man as his puppet on the throne. Cleopatra fought
back, however, raising an army to reclaim her position. In the midst of the
standoff between her forces and those of her brother at Pelusium (a key
fortress at the border of Egypt and Judaea), Pompey arrived as noted ear-
lier. His messengers approached Ptolemy and requested asylum for him
in Alexandria. They also conversed with the Roman soldiers in Ptolemy’s
army, whom he had inherited from his father, who had received them from
Pompey’s friend, Gabinius, years before; the newcomers encouraged these
“Gabinians” to join Pompey’s cause and to help persuade the young king
to do the same.
Having made friendly noises to Pompey, as if they would help him, Ptol-
emy’s advisors met to decide what they would really do. Some feared Pom-
pey had come to seize control of Egypt from the young king, their meal
ticket; they could not simply keep the Roman general out of their country.
Others feared Caesar more and thought they might please him by destroy-
ing Pompey for him. So, they plotted to assassinate Pompey. General Achil-
las and one of the Gabinians named Septimius lured him persuasively onto
a small boat just offshore and stabbed him to death.
Only a few days later, Julius Caesar arrived in Egypt; the murder of Pom-
pey disgusted him, as did the present of Pompey’s head offered to him by
one of the king’s advisors. All this factored significantly into his support
of Cleopatra against her brother, whom he blamed for Pompey’s fate, de-
spite the fact that the young man probably had nothing at all to do with
the decision to kill him. Caesar seems also to have disregarded the fact that
the people of Alexandria, the most politically active subjects of the king,
supported the king and not his sister. The Roman general asserted that he
had the right to adjudicate the dispute between Ptolemy and Cleopatra be-
cause, first, their father had been confirmed on the throne by the Roman
government (which Caesar represented) and, second, their inheritance was
also placed in Rome’s safekeeping when their father deposited a copy of his
will with Pompey and called upon the Romans quite formally to protect
692
his wishes. Caesar ordered brother and sister to disband their armies and
appear before him at once; apparently, he already had their younger sister,
Arsinoë, under his protection in the royal palace.
Young Ptolemy came to Caesar first, his chief advisor, Pothinus, making
great protestations of his master’s affection for Rome and for Caesar, but
then changing his tune, treating the general with disrespect and the latter’s
soldiers very poorly in terms of food and other provisions. This was likely
motivated by Pothinus’s secret call to the king’s army at Pelusium; he put
Achillas in charge of it with orders to destroy Caesar. Achillas knew that he
would have the people of Alexandria on his side, because Caesar had also or-
dered them to collect money that Auletes had owed him (actually, he asked
for only about half of it) and had never paid, which sent them into a fury.
Achillas also had intelligence reports confirming Caesar’s developing rela-
tionship with Cleopatra, who had impressed the Roman general in several
ways, not least of which was the clever method she chose to smuggle her-
self into the palace. Achillas knew that Caesar’s favoritism toward her would
not sit well with the Alexandrians; it was bad enough, in their eyes, that the
Roman outsider had insulted their king’s right to rule, but now he was also
trying to fleece them and foist upon them an unpopular queen. Ptolemy
himself encouraged this attitude by appearing before a large crowd in the
capital city and accusing Caesar loudly of betraying him to his vengeful sister.
When Caesar formally announced his decision that Ptolemy XIII should
rule jointly with Cleopatra, while their other siblings, their sister Arsinoë
and their brother (also called Ptolemy), would rule the island of Cyprus
(given back by the Roman Empire, to which their uncle had forfeited it
years before), uprisings broke out in Alexandria; the people wanted Ptol-
emy XIII to rule all and for the Romans to stay out of it. Thus started the
Alexandrian War, six months of conflict between Caesar’s meager force and
thousands of opponents, military and civilian, in the very streets and ports
of the capital city. Surrounded by enemy forces, Caesar kept Ptolemy in
custody within the royal palace; he tried, unsuccessfully, to persuade the
people that the king did not approve of this conflict, which had been insti-
gated by renegade advisors, like Pothinus, for example, whom Caesar ex-
ecuted on confirming the evidence of his complicity.
Meanwhile, though the younger brother of Ptolemy apparently could
not care less about all this, his other sister, Arsinoë, took action to seize
the throne away from him and Cleopatra and for herself; she had always
resented being denied a place in ruling Egypt by her father’s last wishes.
Arsinoë somehow snuck out of the palace and made it to Achillas’s army. At
first, she worked with him; later, she arranged to have him eliminated and
replaced by one of her favorites, Ganymedes.
About four months into the fighting, the Alexandrians sent word to Cae-
sar requesting that he release Ptolemy; the young man or his advisors may
693
have been behind this move. Regardless, the idea was that Ptolemy, once
in charge of the forces standing against Caesar, would convince them easily
to surrender; this, supposedly, would also cut Arsinoë and her general out
of the picture, which Caesar appreciated, because he felt insulted fighting
against a queen’s army and realized that she was a much fiercer opponent
than her brother could ever be. Caesar made a big show of sending young
Ptolemy off on his mission, reminding him of Roman friendship for his late
father and, by extension, for him, of his duty to repair the harm done to his
kingdom by fostering peace, to save his people and his capital city from fur-
ther destruction. Ptolemy, in turn, made a big show of grief at leaving Cae-
sar’s company, but quickly kicked the war effort of his supporters into even
higher gear, working together with Arsinoë. There was to be no peace.
About two months later, reinforcements for Caesar arrived from vari-
ous allies in the eastern regions of the empire, especially Mithradates the
Pergamene. Ptolemy, though regarded as weak by many even on his own
side, nonetheless, set out with a portion of his army to counter these rein-
forcements in the region of the Nile delta. Caesar, too, led out some of his
forces from the siege inside Alexandria into the delta to assist his reinforce-
ments. Through a series of hard-fought engagements, Caesar emerged vic-
torious, storming into the king’s camp and forcing the latter to flee for his
life. Ptolemy got on board a vessel in one of the branches of the Nile, but,
overcrowded as it was with fugitives from the combat, the ship sank and the
king, reportedly, drowned. He was only sixteen years old.
Any further resistance to Caesar crumbled after the news spread of Ptol-
emy’s defeat and death. Once again, the Roman general took in hand the
task of appointing monarchs for the kingdom, reconfirming its status as a
dependent ally of the empire. He secured Cleopatra’s place as queen on
the throne of Egypt by sending her sister, the ambitious and rebellious Ar-
sinoë, to Italy, where she graced Caesar’s triumphal celebrations a year-and-
half later and remained a political prisoner. Caesar also respected Egyptian
custom by installing a co-ruler, the twelve-year-old Ptolemy XIV, young-
est of Auletes’s children. No one had any doubt, however, that the favor
of Rome, and especially Caesar, stood behind Cleopatra. All the efforts of
those palace officials, military forces, and civilians who had opposed her rise
to power by supporting Ptolemy XIII (and Arsinoë) had failed.
tra (d. 30 BCE); Egypt; Egyptians; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE)
Further Reading
694
Public Works
Press.
Ltd.
Press.
Public Works
Ancient Rome is famous for its great achievements of engineering, whether
public baths, roads, temples, or aqueducts. In their society, the construc-
tion of such amenities that made for a more civilized life, what we would
today term public works, fell under the responsibility of the annually elected
magistrates. They regarded such projects not only as needed by the com-
munity for social, economic, or military purposes but also as beneficial to
themselves politically.
From early on in the Republic’s history, public works included those
projects that brought the people closer to their gods, that is, construction
of large temples, such as the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the
Capitoline Hill, and those that brought more space for living and work-
ing, such as the draining of and paving over of the Forum Boarium and
especially of the Forum Romanum. Later, public works, such as roads and
ports, brought wider economic benefits, while others brought health ben-
efits, such as aqueducts; they were named after the officials who made them
happen, such as the Via Flaminia for C. Flaminius or the Aqua Appia for
Appius Claudius Caecus. Eventually, Romans came to consider even the-
aters, amphitheaters, circuses, and bath complexes as public works; these
satisfied people’s need to socialize, exercise, and vent their emotions in a
controlled space.
Each year, the Roman Senate allotted a certain amount of money from
the state treasury to each of the colleges of magistrates; in the case of pub-
lic works projects, this meant primarily the consuls, praetors, aediles, and,
at times, the censors. All these were to utilize their allotments for whatever
tasks needed funding during their time in office. Often, the designated
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Public Works
Roman aqueduct in Segovia, Spain. Constructed of granite blocks, without the use of
cement, the arches of this structure reach to over 90 feet tall and support a covered
channel that still carries water into the town, as it has done since the late first century CE.
(Gvictoria/Dreamstime.com)
funds were insufficient and rarely did the Senate give a further allowance.
This might seem strange to modern people, who expect so many things to
be paid for out of tax money in the government treasury. In fact, Romans
actually expected their politicians to run out of state funds and to augment
those funds from their own private fortunes.
After all, in the Roman view, the gods had blessed certain Romans with
exceptional nobility and wealth; the least these citizens could do was to give
of themselves, and their money, for the greater good. This applied espe-
cially to victorious generals; on their return to Rome, both men and gods
expected them to fund the construction of magnificent works out of the
spoils of war. Thus, even if the Senate and People of Rome authorized a
particular public works project, there existed the tacit assumption that the
magistrate or magistrates in charge of seeing to the project’s completion
would donate money or resources to make it so.
Such projects gave men, and some women, who ran construction busi-
nesses the chance to grow their wealth, in some cases enormously. These
businesses bid on public works contracts let out by the magistrates; these
contracts were frequently the most complicated and detailed of any busi-
ness arrangements in Rome, with all sorts of terms and conditions and
696
Public Works
Roman cliff-side road and arch-buttress in the Alps, on the way to Gaul (France),
carved out in the first or second centuries BCE. Roman engineers did not even allow
the solid rock of mountains to stand in the way of their armies’ progress.
(Photoerick/Dreamstime.com)
directions to be fulfilled, especially in times of urgency. Just as today, receiv-

ing the contract resulted sometimes from presenting the most reasonable
bid and sometimes from having friends in the government.
Literary and archaeological evidence indicates that any given public works
project involved many small workshops of masons, carpenters, brick-makers,
architects, plumbers, and others, and only rarely large establishments. So,
across the period of the Republic, such projects provided thousands, in-
deed, tens of thousands, of jobs to skilled and unskilled workers, free as well
as slave, in Italy and across the empire. In this way, the Roman government
supported small business.
Within the community, public works projects enhanced the reputation
of the magistrate or magistrates in charge of their construction, as well as
that of other donors involved. Julius Caesar, for example, enhanced his
reputation by funding such projects. Though he might have been more
famous for spending large sums of money on entertainment for the citi-
zenry of Rome, he spent just about as much on buildings. For instance, he
funded the construction of the Saepta, a large stone enclosure for the meet-
ings of the Popular Assemblies in Rome’s Campus Martius (today’s Campo
697
Public Works
Ruins of a Roman amphitheater from the second century CE in the city of Siracusa
(ancient Syracuse), Sicily, Italy. Hewn out of the rock on site, the arena’s foundations,
entryways, and access tunnels are still visible today. (Ventura69/Dreamstime.com)
Marzio). He did the same for two, thoroughly renovated public meeting
halls, the Basilica Aemilia and the Basilica Julia, and a new Senate House,
the Curia Julia, in the Roman Forum, and he spent a small fortune on an
extension of the Forum known as the Forum Iulium, which included an
enclosed plaza, commissioned artwork, and a temple to Venus.
By the Late Republic, Roman politicians were also using public works
projects to win over the support of whole communities in other parts of
the empire. Caesar himself provided for local building projects in Gaul
(roughly modern France), Spain, Greece, and Asia Minor (modern Turkey)
with generous donations, manpower, and materials.
According to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar, before his
death, had plans for even more projects that would have improved and
beautified the city of Rome. For instance, he conceived of building the larg-
est temple to Mars in the entire empire on the site along the left bank of
the Tiber River where he had earlier excavated an artificial lake and staged a
mock naval battle. The planned project would have employed a large work-
force to drain and fill in the lake, let alone to erect the temple on the scale
Caesar envisioned. Similarly, he hoped to build a stone theater to com-
pete with that erected by his rival Pompey about a decade earlier; Caesar’s
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Public Works
theater would have climbed up the Capitoline Hill on its southeast corner,
thus having the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus majestically loom-
ing above it. He commissioned the noted scholar, M. Terentius Varro, to
prepare books for a new public library, which would have been the first in
Rome. He hoped to drain the malaria-infested Pomptine Marshes to the
southeast of Rome as well as Lake Fucinus to the east of Rome, which
would have protected farmland from dangerous flooding and opened up
tens of thousands of acres to cultivation. He also imagined a new road
across Italy’s Apennine mountain range and a canal cutting through the
Isthmus of Corinth in Greece, both to speed trade and communications, as
well as a massive, southward diversion of the Tiber River to make it more
navigable for large-scale shipping, and thorough reconstruction of Rome’s
port facilities at Ostia to protect and promote such shipping.
None of these projects came to fruition in exactly the way he hoped,
some, in fact, not until the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Caesar’s
successor, Octavian-Augustus, certainly with the intention of at least hon-
oring his great-uncle’s wishes, did eventually erect public libraries contain-
ing Greek and Latin texts, respectively, on the Palatine Hill, as well as a
Temple to Mars in a new extension of the Roman Forum, and a theater
(named for his own nephew, Marcellus) across from the Capitol’s south-
west side; later, Emperors Claudius and Trajan did much to enhance the
capacities of Ostia, and the former employed 30,000 workers over a span
of eleven years to drain the Fucine Lake (with unsatisfactory results in the
end, however).
This one project of Claudius provides us a sense of scale for the others
planned by Caesar and for the scale of Caesar’s imagination. The emper-
ors followed in the footsteps of Caesar, and of Roman magistrates going
back many generations, in their commitment to improving infrastructure
and quality of life across the empire through the promotion and funding
of public works.
See also: Basilica Julia; Campus Martius; Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris; Forum
Romanum; Games; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Octavian-Augustus
(63 BCE–14 CE); Patrons and Clients; Trade
Further Reading
Aldrete, G. 2007. Floods of the Tiber in Ancient Rome. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
University Press.
MacDonald, W. L. 1982. The Architecture of the Roman Empire. New Haven, CT:
Yale University Press.
Books.
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versity Press.
Press.
700
R
Recreation
Recreation
In addition to the well-known entertainments of the theater, the circus,
and the arena, where Romans engaged in the recreation of spectators, they,
young and old, engaged in the more active recreations of play and exercise.
Children worked much harder all across the Roman world than they do
in the most developed countries of today; outside the aristocratic circle of
families and perhaps the very wealthiest businessmen, who could satisfy the
labor needs of their families by hiring workers for wages or using lots of
slaves, the labor of children was essential to the survival of most families. As
a result, they did not often have free time even for a proper education, let
alone playtime as, say, most American children do.
Yet play they still did, as is evidenced in written sources and especially in
the archaeological record. Roman infants traditionally received necklaces
called crepundia from friends and relatives of their parents that resemble
today’s charm bracelets. Many small trinkets of metal and ceramic, shaped
like tools, weapons, heavenly bodies (especially half-moons), flowers, ani-
mals, people, or gods, were strung on these crepundia. Roman parents used
them as their counterparts today use baby rattles, and their children, as they
grew up, played with the individual pieces.
During the Saturnalia, the great festival in honor of Saturn, the Roman
god of abundance, held every December, Roman children received more
toys, such as wax figurines or dolls made out of clay, metal, or wood; often
the work of skilled craftsmen, some of these dolls even had metal or wooden
joints that allowed their separate body parts to be moved around by the
child, just like modern action figures. There was also the ever-popular rag
doll, filled with fragments of old cloth, sewn together in a form; just like
kids today do with their similar plush toys, Roman children could play or
sleep with these usually homemade items.
Kids played with toy wagons and carts, toy animals, spinning tops, hoops,
walking stilts, and even letters made of wood or ivory, like their plastic
counterparts in today’s early childhood classrooms, to help them learn the
Latin alphabet in a fun fashion. They had their childhood games with one
another as well, including hide and seek, blind-man’s bluff, and marbles.
Very popular were the games involving knucklebones (either literally the
bones of slaughtered animals, like goats or sheep, or manufactured replicas
in bronze, stone, or ivory), which Roman kids used like jacks.
Roman children loved playing with pets as well, whether dogs or birds
(including ducks and geese) or mice (the cat did not become popular in
Roman households until the first century CE), and, of course, those who
lived on farms had an even greater variety of animals to choose from, as did
wealthier Roman children, who might even have their own pet donkey to
harness to a kid-sized chariot, just for fun.
703
Recreation
Adults and children in Roman society shared in common a love of ball

games and board games. They made balls usually out of treated animal skin
stuffed inside with animal feathers or human hair (e.g., from the barber’s)
and even filled with air in some cases. Ball games included a sort of juggling
match, in which multiple players would try to keep multiple balls circulat-
ing among them until one or more players failed and was kicked out of the
match; a particular form of this was the game of trigon, in which three play-
ers, positioned to make a triangle among themselves, tossed and caught a
pair of balls, trying to be prepared for catching and throwing at the same
moment, at and from either of their opponents, until one of them could
not. Romans also had a sort of handball, in which two players competed
over who could keep the ball bouncing the longest against an upright wall,
without letting the ball bounce more than once on the ground.
Board games, like Duodecim Scripta (“Twelve Lines”) and Ludus La-
trunculorom (“Game of Robbers”), resembled what today we would call
backgammon and even checkers or chess, respectively, involving such el-
ements as rolling dice to determine how many places on the board each
player could move certain pieces or attempting to capture an opponent’s
pieces through strategy. People could be found playing board games not
only in the privacy of their homes but also, and most commonly, in the
most public spaces of the city, including the Roman Forum. In fact, if Ju-
lius Caesar had lived long enough to see his new Basilica completed in the
Forum, he would have seen the playing boards for games such as these lit-
erally carved into the marble steps of the building by common citizens who
would hang out there to socialize.
Despite legal prohibitions against gambling, Roman men engaged in it
as a form of recreation with tremendous enthusiasm. This meant that the
ball games and board games just mentioned often were converted into
competition for stakes of money or other valuables. Children’s pastimes,
like marbles and knucklebones, acquired a gambling element among
grown-up players. Competing over heads-or-tails and odds-or-evens in-
volved not just guessing correctly what side of a coin was up or how many
coins an opponent concealed in his closed hand, but actually handing over
the coin or coins in question to the winner of the contest, and perhaps
with interest.
Perhaps most popular of the gambling contests involved dice (alea) that
looked very much like the ones used today; the Romans even had dice
boxes as are used in many modern board games. In standard dicing, the
players competed for stakes over who could get three dice to come out all
sixes at best, or at least not to get all ones. Julius Caesar made a famous
reference to dicing just before he crossed the Rubicon River, the action
which heralded the Civil War with his fellow senators; he said, in Greek,
the equivalent of the Latin words, alea iacta est or “the dice is cast,” which
704
Recreation
meant that the gamble of fighting his adversaries, the game of survival or
defeat, had begun.
Romans did not go in for team sports as a form of recreation; even ball
games, as we have seen, were played in a one-on-one fashion, the individual
player attempting to eliminate his individual rivals. Many recreational activ-
ities, such as swimming, running, riding on horseback, wrestling, and even
sword-play, were engaged in primarily for the physical benefits gained by
the individual, that is, as forms of exercise (as well as preparation for com-
bat). Caesar trained himself on horseback like an acrobat in the circus; even
as a boy, he could direct his horse at full gallop with his legs alone, keeping
his hands clasped behind his back.
During the Republic, the most common venues for recreational sports
and exercises were the Campus Martius (Field of Mars), the wide-open
plain northwest of the Capitoline Hill, and the public bath complexes (bal-
nea or thermae), of which the city of Rome had as many as 170 by the de-
cade following Caesar’s death. Some bathhouses were owned by private
individuals and others by the city. Entrance was open to all citizens at little
charge, usually at different times of the day for men and women, unless
the facility could accommodate separate sections for each. The standard
balneum offered a swimming pool, a series of rooms heated to different
temperatures, open-air and enclosed spaces for exercise, massage, and so-
cializing, as well as attendants (usually slaves) to perform various services
at extra charge. The preferred sequence of activities was to start with exer-
cise of some kind, then take a sauna in the warm room, followed by a spell
in the hot room to fully open up the pores of one’s skin, and conclude by
cooling off in the cold room. Even today’s experts credit the Romans with
an excellent understanding of the health benefits of this sequence.
Of course, not all recreation consisted of play and physical activities. Ro-
mans found ways to break up their workdays by socializing while collecting
water from the nearest public fountain (the main source of fresh water for
most town dwellers) or grabbing a bite to eat or a quick drink at the local tav-
ern (judging by how many there were in the small town of Pompeii in south-
ern Italy, the city of Rome must have had thousands of such establishments).
They derived pleasure from going to one of the town halls (basilicae) in the
Forum Romanum not only to participate as spectators in the court cases
going on there but also to get involved by heckling the parties involved or
arguing with each other over the merits of the case; the language of Roman
street-theater, as well as more formal theater, reveals how learned even the
humblest Romans seemed to have been in the jargon of the legal world.
The Roman elite, especially, enjoyed throwing dinner parties for friends,
family, and associates, sometimes in town and sometimes at their country
estates or villas; in the latter locations, such festivities often involved hunt-
ing as well, a form of recreation (as opposed to a necessity for survival) for
705
Regia
the rich and powerful. Roman aristocrats owned multiple villas (e.g., the
famous orator Cicero, who owned seven of them), many along the Bay of
Naples, where they could escape the grind of the Imperial capital, noise,
traffic, and summer heat. Again, owners intended such “get-away” places,
and designed them, for pleasant relaxation (e.g., picturesque boatrides on
the water or long walks in private gardens decorated with art and water-
works). The well-educated in Roman society also found recreation in lit-
erary activities, such as writing poetry, and in sharing with others through
private readings or recitations of their work. Most of Cicero’s many essays,
for example, were composed primarily for his own enjoyment, as well as the
fun of sharing them with those close to him.
There were always all sorts of things going on in a Roman city, especially
Rome itself, that a person of any age or social status could involve himself
or herself in purely for the sake of having a good time. As a culture, the
Romans evolved over the generations to appreciate more and more the im-
portance of recreation, both physical and mental, to the health of the indi-
vidual and the collective good.
See also: Basilica Julia; Campus Martius; Crossing the Rubicon; Education;
Festivals; Forum Romanum; Games; Gardens; Slavery/Slaves
Further Reading
Dumbarton Oaks.
Regia
The Regia was Julius Caesar’s official headquarters in his capacity as Ponti-
fex Maximus, or Chief Priest of the Roman State religion, from 63 BCE until
his assassination in 44 BCE. It was located at the eastern end of the Forum
Romanum, at the then beginning of the Via Sacra or Sacred Way.
The name Regia means “king’s place” in Latin, and Roman tradition
attributed its construction to their second king, the Sabine leader Numa
Pompilius, in the late eighth century BCE. The ruins of the structure today,
as well as descriptions of it in the works of classical authors, reveal it to have
been of Etruscan design; this, together with the fact that no traces or re-
mains of the building date back beyond the late seventh century, suggests
706
Regia
that, in fact, it was the work of the Etruscan warlords who came to domi-
nate the town of Rome around that time.
The brick-and-stone structure was fairly simple, a rectangle consisting of
a large hall with a hearth in the center flanked by two smaller chambers; the
chamber toward the Forum seems to have been consecrated to Mars, the
god of War, while the chamber at the opposite end of the building seems to
have been consecrated to Ops, the goddess of abundance (even Mars had
originally been an agricultural deity, connected with defense of the fields).
It is uncertain exactly what sorts of formal activities of the Pontifex Maxi-
mus took place in the larger central hall, where the entrance to the building
was located. A sort of triangular walled courtyard containing a water well
and a sealed storage pit extended along the northwest of the building. De-
spite the fact that the Regia required reconstruction a number of times over
the course of the Republic, the Romans always preserved its original shape
and overall character, though enlarging its size in the renovation of 148
BCE; the architectural form of the building had become too sacred to alter.
For the Etruscan rulers of Rome, the Regia probably served as their actual
residence; the Chief Pontiff, however, like Caesar when he held that office,
resided in the Domus Publica or People’s House, another building located
across the street, part of or closely nearby the House of the Vestal Virgins.
Under the Republic, the Pontifex Maximus used the Regia only for official
purposes, storing there his records, especially the official annual calendar
and the annales maximi (the collected chronicles of year-by-year events in
Rome), various sacred implements, and important relics, especially those
connected with worship of Ops and Mars, such as the sacred shields and
spears. It was said that Caesar ignored the inexplicable rattling of the sacred
spears, a sure sign of imminent war, on the night before his assassination.
From the Regia, Caesar had the perfect vantage point to observe all the
major speaker’s platforms of the Roman Forum and especially to note what
was taking place in the large open area in front of the Temple of Castor and
Pollux, which was where hundreds of citizens gathered to hear the consuls
speak on the most pressing political matters. The location of the Regia, as
well as the Domus Publica, gave him incredibly easy access to all the major
happenings in the downtown heart of the city of Rome and made him im-
mediately available to the crowds of people who had any sort of business
there.
See also: Forum Romanum; Pontifex Maximus; Religion, Roman; Rex; Ves-
tal Virgins
Further Reading
Books.
707
Religion, Roman

Stambaugh, J. 1988. The Ancient Roman City. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins.
Religion, Roman
Roman religion was both conservative and adaptive. Romans tenaciously
held on to obscure and obsolete beliefs and rituals, but at the same time ea-
gerly adopted new ideas and practices from other cultures.
At its heart, Roman religion was animistic, that is, people worshipped ill-
defined spirits (numina), spirits that Romans believed inhabited every ob-
ject, place, and living thing in the world, and that presided over agriculture,
human life and especially fertility, and warfare.
Water fountain in the shape of

an ancient shrine, in House of
the Small Fountain, Pompeii,
Italy. The structure, located in
an alcove of the home, is
covered with the famous
Pompeian red paint as well as
decorative mosaics with marine
motifs. Behind, frescoes span
the wall of the alcove. (Nancy
Pitman/Dreamstime.com)
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Religion, Roman
Every Roman home had an altar where the family placated certain spirits
with sacrifices of food or with prayers; the paterfamilias and materfamilias
officiated over these ceremonies. Such spirits included the Di Manes (spirits
of dead ancestors), the Genius (the guardian spirit of the family or of in-
dividual members of the family), the Lares (protective spirits of the home
itself), and the Penates (protective spirits of storage chambers). In the little
streets of Rome, at intersections, Romans also placed shrines for the Lares
and Penates.
Among the powers of nature that Romans worshipped collectively and
publicly, most important was the trio of Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus, fol-
lowed by Janus and Vesta, the prominent fertility goddesses, Juno, Ceres,
Venus, Fortuna, Diana, Bona Dea, and Libera, and the fertility god, Liber
Pater. From their Etruscan neighbors to the north, the Romans seemed
to have adopted Minerva and from their Greek neighbors to the south,
the hero Hercules, the gods Castor and Pollux, Apollo, Aesculapius, and
Dionysus. Under the influence of Greek religious culture, the Romans
gave to many of their previously invisible, animistic deities physical form
and complex back stories derived from Greek mythology. Etruscan and
Greek architectural forms in temple design and elements of especially
Greek religious ceremonies and celebrations were also incorporated into
Roman religion.
Like the Greeks and Etruscans, the Romans believed that these dei-
ties could be communicated with, understood, obeyed, and even ma-
nipulated by proper, very precise prayers and rituals, especially rituals of
sacrifice, performed in a legalistic manner; this is what Romans meant by
their word religio. Very structured, institutionalized religious practices,
a civic polytheism, developed early in Rome’s history, the primary pur-
pose of which was to protect and promote the community by giving to
the gods so that they would give in return (do ut des, “I give that you
might give”), to establish a treaty of peace with the gods (pax deorum).
In a sense, a contract was established between Romans and the spirits of
the world.
Certain officials of state saw to the implementation and maintenance
of that contract. These were the priests (sacerdotes), of which Rome had
many, most male, some female, for Romans had many, many deities to
watch out for. Priests carried out distinctive functions on particular oc-
casions but otherwise lived (aside from only a few exceptions) like other
members of the aristocracy, in their own homes with their spouses and
families. Thus, one could not usually distinguish a priest or priestess on
the streets of Rome.
Originally, only patricians were eligible to serve as priests, as they came
from families considered somehow the favorites of the gods. After a reform
in 300 BCE, wealthy plebeians were also recognized as eligible to serve. New
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Religion, Roman
priests were nominated and co-opted for a lifetime of service by those al-
ready serving until further reforms in 104 BCE, after which many, though
not all, priests were elected by a special assembly of voters from seven-
teen of Rome’s thirty-five tribal districts. Regardless of how chosen, Roman
priests were clearly regarded as officials of state representing the religious
interests of the People of Rome. The state treasury controlled and allocated
the funds needed by the priests to perform their civic duties.
The Romans always grouped their priests into colleges so that no one
man or woman could have absolute authority on particular religious mat-
ters; this paralleled their efforts at checking power among political magis-
trates in the same way. New priests received training from their experienced
elders upon entering their particular college.
In Caesar’s day, the highest-ranking religious personnel were the sixteen
pontiffs or pontifices; he, in fact, became one of them in 73 BCE through
the method of co-optation. The pontiffs organized Rome’s official calendar
every year, supervised adoptions, burials, wills, and some marriages, advised
the government on matters pertaining to the gods, and might police the
activities of some of the other priestly colleges, if needed. Under the special
supervision of the Pontifex Maximus, the Chief Pontiff, for example, were
the priestesses known as Vestal Virgins.
Attached to the college of pontiffs was the rex sacrorum, the “king of
sacred things,” appointed by the Pontifex Maximus to conduct certain
rituals that had formerly been performed by the kings of Rome before the
creation of the Republic. Also affiliated with the pontiffs were the three
major and twelve minor flamens or flamines. These men each sacrificed
to a particular Roman god and had to live under strict rules of ritual pu-
rity, though many of those rules seem to have lapsed in the last decades
of the Republic. Caesar served as Flamen Dialis, a priesthood open only
to patricians in special dedication to the god Jupiter, from about the age
of sixteen to that of nineteen, when the dictator Sulla removed him from
that position. This may have been a great dishonor for him at the time,
but it was a stroke of good fortune for his future, because the Flamen
Dialis was prohibited from riding horses, being around dead bodies, or
running for high political office; if he had remained in that priesthood,
Caesar would never have become the famous leader of Roman history as
we know him.
Romans always observed the flight, behavior, even eating habits, of birds,
which were considered to be creatures most sacred to the gods, especially
to Jupiter and Juno, the ruler of the skies and his wife. Every day, officials,
commanders, and even private citizens made such observations (“took the
auspices”), and then consulted with the sixteen augurs, who formed an-
other important college of priests. The augurs interpreted the auspices to
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Religion, Roman
make determinations on whether omens or signs could be found in them

from the gods, and they issued warnings against action or encouragements
to action accordingly. The augurs also instructed the magistrates of Rome
in how to take the auspices and advised them on proper interpretation; they
inaugurated temples, that is, defined the sacred space for a religious struc-
ture to match the field of vision above and around from which to view the
realm of the sky-god. Romans took no important actions without approval
of the augurs and their auspices.
The Romans may have adopted the augurs and their practices from the
Etruscans. Certainly, they did invite sixty Etruscan priests called haruspices
to visit Rome when needed; these priests explained bizarre prodigies (signs
of divine anger) and portents (signs of the future) in natural phenomena
and suggested rituals through which the Roman community might avert
trouble.
The Romans also maintained a college of priests, the quindecemviri sacris
faciundis, “the fifteen men for making things sacred,” who supervised im-
ported Greek religious practices and preserved and interpreted the Sibylline
Books, an ancient collection of obscure prophecies. One of these, for exam-
ple, apparently stated that only a king could conquer the Parthian Empire,
Rome’s growing rival in the Middle East in Caesar’s time; in his capacity
as quindecemvir, Caesar’s cousin, L. Aurelius Cotta, hoped this prophecy
would convince the Senate to confer the title of king on Caesar.
In their complex duties, priests had the crucial assistance of the man-
agers (aedituus) of Rome’s various temples and their staffs of freedmen
and slaves, and the colleges of sacrificers (victimarii), musicians (tibicenses),
keepers of the sacred chickens (pullarii), and others.
Individual Romans also turned to astrology and magic, the first to ascer-
tain the will of the gods, the second to manipulate the spirit world to work
for one’s benefit or against one’s enemies. Numerous curse tablets have
survived, for instance, invoking destructive supernatural forces against law-
yers, rival charioteers, unfaithful spouses, and other foes.
Romans were incredibly receptive as a culture when they felt foreign
gods could be co-opted for their benefit. In the last century BCE, for ex-
ample, the Cilician pirates defeated by Pompey introduced into the Roman
world elements of Persian Zoroastrianism focused on a particular warrior
god called Mithras. From tiny beginnings, the cult of Mithras evolved over
several centuries into the most prevalent form of worship of foreign origin
among the Roman army.
As seen already in the Greek and Etruscan influences on Roman religion,
the Romans were masters of syncretism or combining of beliefs and ritu-
als, and especially absorption of foreign deities as manifestations of Roman
ones through what they termed interpretatio Romana. Julius Caesar himself
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Religion, Roman
demonstrated this approach to religion when describing the deities and cer-
emonies of the Gauls and Germans. According to his account, the Gauls
worshipped primarily the god Mercury, the patron of trade and travelers. In
point of fact, they referred to this deity as Lugh, and he presided over many
more, and more significant, aspects of life than Mercury did, especially con-
veying knowledge of sciences and arts to humans and inspiring the Gallic
chieftains in their leadership. Caesar merges another important Gallic divin-
ity, Brigantia, into the Roman goddess Minerva to such an extent that he
dismisses virtually all the multifaceted complexity of the foreign goddess;
others, like Epona, for example, he does not even mention, despite their
widespread prominence, apparently because they did not have clear Roman
parallels. As for the German religion, Caesar seemed to have no knowledge
of its extensive polytheism, asserting that the Germans only worshipped the
sun, moon, and fire.
Interpretatio Romana could be taken too far, then, and used to paint
foreign religious beliefs as simplistic or exotic, or basically “other” than
Roman. A case in point is Caesar’s emphasis on the Gallic practice of human
sacrifice, regarded as thoroughly barbaric by the Romans of his time, de-
spite their own tendency to wipe out innocent lives among themselves and
others through warfare. This emphasis receives even greater force in his dis-
cussion of the Gauls as descended from the god of the underworld, Caesar
said, according to their own admission.
Religion was vital in every field of endeavor in Rome. Pontiffs col-
lected and interpreted sacred law out of which secular law developed; the
government could not conduct public business nor the army be called
up or sent into action unless the auspices were taken and the omens read
by the augurs; society at large was permeated by the actions of Rome’s
priests, who controlled the calendar and bound the people together by
holding festivals and processions intended to purify and promote the
community.
Religion in Caesar’s time, however, was also in a state of crisis. The
upper class had always controlled the religious apparatus of the com-
munity, and they began in the Late Republic to more openly manipu-
late those mechanisms for personal or political gain. Caesar, for example,
instead of believing an oracle that predicted he could not win in North
Africa against Metellus Scipio, because only the Scipios could be victors
there, placed in nominal command of his own army an unimportant dis-
tant cousin of that family; in this way, he blatantly attempted to appropri-
ate the oracle for his own purposes. The Roman aristocrats spent lavishly
on more elaborate religious activities, especially festivals, to make a name
for themselves. On the one hand, the election of priests, and the brutal
competition of often unqualified candidates for such positions, weakened
their “supernatural” prestige; on the other hand, some priesthoods fell
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into disuse or were very much avoided because few candidates wanted
to be bound by their complex taboos and duties which might take them
out of the political or military arena. Further, under the impact of Greek
philosophical skepticism, many elite Romans pretty openly questioned
the purpose and validity of religion in the first place (though even these,
like Caesar’s assassin, Cassius, devoted to rationalistic Epicurean teach-
ings, still had their moments of mysticism). Caesar himself, also hav-
ing the same leanings despite holding the position of Pontifex Maximus,
often devoutly performed the religious rituals required by political and
especially military custom, while at other times, such as famously before
the Battle of Thapsus, completely disregarded them. All Rome’s citizens,
even the lowliest, could see all this, and many of them became disgusted
or disillusioned, at least with the traditional Roman civic religion, turn-
ing, under the emperors, to more exotic and inspiring religions from
the East.
See also: Festivals; Legal Profession; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Ponti-
fex Maximus
Further Reading
versity Press.
Rex
Perhaps the worst accusation made against Julius Caesar by his political op-
ponents was that he sought to be rex or “king” of Rome. For nearly 500
years, the Romans had devoted themselves to preventing any one of their
leaders from assuming such power within, and over, the state. Caesar posed
a real threat to that tradition.
According to tradition, Rome had been founded by its first king, Ro-
mulus, who was succeeded by six others. All had supposedly contributed
in some significant way to Rome’s social, economic, political, and military
evolution, but most also exercised authority in such a way that it smacked
of arbitrariness. This was true despite the fact that kingship throughout
Italy, and Rome was no exception, was not an inherited prerogative; on the
death of a king, the elders of the community, such as the Senate at Rome,
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gathered to select and approve a new king. During this process, the state
was governed by an interrex, a temporary ruler, chosen from among the
elders for a matter of a few days; if the process lasted longer than a week, a
series of interreges took turns running things. The council of elders was,
then, the stable institution of society, but it handed over considerable
power to the king, once chosen, who merely had the customary obligation
to consult with the council, not necessarily to follow its will.
Resisting at all costs the arbitrary rule that came with even elective mon-
archy became a defining trait of what it meant to be Roman. The mythol-
ogized founders of the Republic proudly expelled the last of the Tarquin
kings (the foreign rulers from Etruria/modern Tuscany who had them-
selves taken the place of Rome’s home-grown chieftains) to create a new
political order, the Republic; the leaders of this “revolution,” the Roman
aristocrats, had received the favor of the kings over the generations, but felt
more fit to govern the community than one man and felt obligated to pre-
vent tyranny in the future.
The role of the rex was not just assumed collectively by the Senate,
however; certain priests (particularly the rex sacrorum, “king of the sacred
things”) assumed the kings’ former religious functions and the magistrates
carried out the kings’ former administrative and military responsibilities.
Some of these officials, such as the consuls and praetors, even continued to
make use of the symbols of royalty, such as the purple-bordered toga, the
ivory chair and ivory scepter, the fasces (bundles of wooden rods wrapped
around an axe-head), and of their bodyguards, the lictors who carried those
fasces. Triumphant Roman generals put on an even more regal display dur-
ing their victory celebrations.
Yet all of this imagery and power was temporary or circumscribed to pre-
vent excesses. Law and custom kept Roman leaders in their place, at least
among fellow Romans, and in their wars of conquest across the Mediter-
ranean region, especially in the East, they always claimed to be bringing
down kingdoms, characterized as decadent by their very nature. Among
provincial subjects and conquered populations, however, restrictions on
Roman leaders behaving in an arbitrary or tyrannical fashion were not as
clear or as effective. Indeed, provincials understood that Rome might not
be a monarchy like those in northern Greece or the Near East, but the
Roman Senate acted like a council of 300 kings.
In this light, one can consider Julius Caesar’s embracing of unchallenged
authority and power. In his capacity as governor of Gaul (roughly mod-
ern France, southwestern Holland, Belgium, and western Germany and
northern Italy), Caesar had operated as virtual king for nearly a decade.
This long-time inculturation to autocracy made it extremely difficult for
him to behave like just another senator among senators when he returned
to Rome; he had become the most kingly of the so-called council of kings
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TSAR
In the course of the fifth century CE, the western half of the Roman
Empire disintegrated under various pressures, including invasion and
settlement by Germanic warrior tribes; the eastern half survived intact
under its own line of emperors. Modern scholars refer to this Eastern
Roman Empire as the Byzantine Empire. Its rulers succeeded to and
continued the traditions of their Imperial predecessors by designat-
ing their successors as “Caesar.” Over the centuries, they shifted the
use of that term toward the official of state (often, but not always, a
relative) who stood as lieutenant to the emperor, but not as successor
(who was often, instead, the young son or daughter of the emperor).
From the employment of “Caesar” as an honorific title, meaning,
in a sense, the most revered and stalwart supporter of the throne,
came the absorption of the term into the Slavic languages of East-
ern Europe (Byzantium’s sphere of influence). Certain Slavic leaders,
such as the khans of the Bulgars in the tenth century CE, coveted the
title as a form of recognition from the Byzantine emperors; some re-
ceived it legitimately. Even when they did not, they began to appro-
priate the title for themselves. The kings of Serbia began to use the
title also, with Byzantine approval, in the fourteenth century CE. The
princes of Russia had similar ambitions two centuries later. Helped by
the pope in Rome, they married into the Byzantine imperial family
and received papal acknowledgment of their succession to the mantle
of the Byzantine emperors (whose realm by then had fallen to the
Turks). The Russians (specifically Ivan IV “the Terrible”) gladly ac-
cepted the title as proof of their new role and status. Like the Bulgars
and others, before them, they pronounced the Greek word Kaisar as
“czar” or “tsar.”
simply out of habit, from the exercise of basically unquestioned power over
millions of subjects. As a result of his victories in the civil wars that fol-
lowed, there was no other Roman commander who could challenge his
authority; no wonder he did not feel the need to rise in the presence of
the senators when they came to greet him. In addition, there were those in
Italy, especially within the Senate, who sought to recognize this reality with
the appropriate titles and honors.
Caesar fueled this by accepting positions in the state without the limi-
tations previously placed on them by Republican custom, such as con-
tinued consulships, censorial power, and especially perpetual dictatorship.
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Even more grandiose, however, were honors such as the golden throne in
the Senate House (Curia) and another outside on the Speakers’ Platform
(Rostra), and a statue of himself placed among those depicting the ancient
kings of Rome. Just two months before his assassination, after presiding
over the Latin festival (a traditional religious celebration in the Alban Hills
south of Rome), the crowds openly acclaimed Caesar as rex, and someone
placed a laurel wreath embellished with a white ribbon (a symbol of roy-
alty and divinity) on the head of one of his statues (perhaps the one noted
earlier).
This aggravated his political opponents to no end, such as the conserva-
tive plebeian tribunes Marullus and Flavus. They ordered the removal of
the wreath from Caesar’s statue and the imprisonment, pending further
penalty, of the man who put it there. Caesar reacted to this by deposing the
two tribunes from office and even striking their names from the list of sena-
tors. In the eyes of their supporters, the two young men were only doing
what generations of Romans would have found right and proper, defend-
ing the traditions of the Republic against encroaching tyranny and its min-
ions. Caesar engaged in some damage control afterward, not by reinstating
Marullus and Flavus but by insisting that he was not a king every time any-
one among the people hailed him as such.
Yet, only a month later, Caesar appeared in the Forum Romanum dressed
in the purple robes of the Tarquin kings, wearing a gold victory wreath on
his head, seated on his gilt throne, for the celebration of the Lupercalia
festival, another religious rite of great antiquity. It was then that his close
friend and lieutenant, Marc Antony, attempted several times to openly rec-
ognize Caesar as king. The latter repeatedly rejected Antony’s gestures,
drawing huge applause from the crowds of spectators for doing so. Yet,
all this smacked of some sort of political theater. If Caesar had truly not
wanted to be treated as a king, he should have rejected the excessive honors
poured upon him by a cowed Senate.
Finally, on the very day of his assassination, one of his cousins on his
mom’s side, L. Aurelius Cotta, who served at that time as a priest within
the college known as the Fifteen, was preparing a motion for the Sen-
ate that Caesar be declared king of all the Roman territories outside of
Italy (on the assumption that populations beyond the peninsula would
more readily accept such an idea than the more traditional citizens in the
peninsula). Cotta would premise the motion on an ancient oracle con-
tained in a famous collection of prophecies, the Sibylline Books, which
the Fifteen interpreted to mean that only a king could conquer the Par-
thian Empire (which comprised much of the Middle East at that time);
Caesar was in the midst of preparing a huge military operation against
the Parthians. The motion never came before the Senate because of his
assassination.
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Subsequent authors, like the Imperial biographer Plutarch, firmly be-

lieved that Caesar aimed at monarchy from the start of his political career, a
view no doubt enhanced by the writings of Caesar’s own detractors imme-
diately after his death as well as by the decades of anti-monarchial rhetoric
produced by later senators who held Brutus, Cassius, and the other “Lib-
erators” up as heroes and symbols of freedom and virtue. Ancient authors
also recorded that Caesar regarded the Republic as a sham and the infa-
mous dictator Sulla as a fool for giving up a chance at absolute power.
With hindsight, the history of the Republic in its last decades does seem
to grind inexorably toward one-man rule in the person of Caesar’s great-
nephew Octavian, the first emperor Augustus (who carefully avoided use
of the title rex), but whether Caesar had intended a line of one-man rul-
ers we cannot determine. Nowhere in his own surviving writings does he
ever claim royal aspirations; he would have considered the honors he re-
ceived and the position he held within the Roman State simply as his proper
due, and much of it as having precedents in previous times of emergency.
Clearly, though, Caesar intended to function beyond the careful limits of
Republican custom and to look the part of a king, whether or not he held
the title of one. His powers, the image he had adopted, and the increasing
arrogance that went with them, made him a king of Rome, in all but name,
and, therefore, an enemy of the Republic.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Aurelia/Aurelian Fam-
ily; Clothing; Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Forum Romanum;
Gaul/Gallia Comata; Lupercalia; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Parthia; Plutarch’s Lives; Religion, Roman; Sen-
ate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
University Press.
Ltd.
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Lintott, A. W. 1993. Imperium Romanum: Politics and Administration. London:
Routledge.
University Press.
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S
Sacrifices
Sacrifices
Ritual sacrifices formed a very important element in all religions of the an-
cient Mediterranean world, including the public and private religious prac-
tices of the Romans. Even someone like Julius Caesar, though apparently
skeptical of the divine, nevertheless engaged in rituals of sacrifice through-
out his lifetime.
The very word sacrifice derives from the Latin sacrificium, which is a
compound from the words facere, to make, and sacrum, sacred. The Ro-
mans believed, then, that when they sacrificed anything to their gods, they
were transferring it from the mundane, human world to another plane of
existence, the sacred or spiritual world. In addition, just as when people
today speak of making a sacrifice to mean giving up something that they
highly value, so, too, the Romans handed over to their gods through the
rituals of sacrifice items of food (obviously essential to human survival, but
especially so in a society built upon largely subsistence agriculture) that they
regarded as hard to part with and that would prove to the observing deities
their human willingness to surrender to the divine will.
Fathers and mothers of families supervised sacrificial rites within their
own households; every Roman home had some sort of lararium, a shrine
to the protective spirits of the family, and not a day went by that the fam-
ily members, led by the paterfamilias or materfamilias, did not make some
sort of offering to those spirits. In addition, on special occasions, such as
wedding days, birthdays, and certain feasts of the year, the family would
also sacrifice to other, particular deities. Farmers had their special targets,
the forces of nature that secured fertility among the crops and herds, while
merchants looked to those even less tangible manifestations to bring skill
and prosperity. In other words, every walk of life generated its own particu-
lar array of sacrifices throughout the year.
Private and familial offerings might include not only animals, such as
chickens, geese, pigs, even dogs, or perhaps larger, more expensive animals,
depending on the occasion, but also so-called bloodless sacrifices of honey,
grains (raw or prepared in cakes, breads, or crackers), fruits, milk, water, oil,
or wine; again, these varied with the circumstances and with Roman tradi-
tions about which items pleased which spirits. In any case, the individual or
family, or even private association, hoped to please those spirits with its of-
fering, prove its devotion, and win the spirits over to its side for particular
purposes.
The grandest public rituals of sacrifice in Roman culture took place at
their temples and began with an act of lustration, that is, purification, in
which the animals intended as offerings to the gods were paraded in a cir-
cle around the place of sacrifice, with priests or other celebrants singing,
dancing, and playing music to mark off the space as sacred. Once this was
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Sacrifices
completed successfully, the person in charge of the ritual led the procession
to the altar and the movable forge (something like a small barbecue grill)
standing next to it, both located out in front of the temple; animal sacri-
fices were never performed inside Roman temples, primarily to avoid the
mess they would have caused. Clad in the purple-bordered garment of the
Roman citizen, the toga praetexta, and covering his head with one of its
folds of cloth, the officiant would then speak words of greeting and praise
to the gods over the flames burning on the hearth and sprinkle incense and
wine into the flames; some of the burning embers would then be moved
onto the altar itself and the incense would serve the practical purpose of
masking the smell of burning animal flesh, as well as creating the “special
effect” of rising toward the heavens, realm of the highest gods.
The Romans normally offered domesticated animals, especially pigs,
sheep, goats, and cattle, the most prized possessions of ancient agricultural
societies, for public sacrifice. These were selected based on their physical
attributes; sacrificial animals could have no physical flaws or disabilities.
Once chosen, they were prepared for slaughter by the celebrant in charge
of the ritual, who performed a ceremony intended to symbolically hand
the animal over to the gods. This involved pouring wine over the victim’s
head, rubbing salted flour on its back, and moving a knife over its spine
from one end to the other. The attendants responsible for actually slaugh-
tering the animal, the victimarii, then smacked it over the head with a
heavy mallet and sliced it open with ritual knives, allowing the officiant or
the special priests called haruspices to examine its internal organs, again for
imperfections; any flaws discovered invalidated the sacrifice and required
selection of a replacement animal and the starting over of the entire ritual.
The Romans were quite serious about only offering the very best to their
deities.
If all looked well, the victimarii cut off the animal’s head (sometimes
this, too, served a purpose in other ceremonies, such as the horse’s head in
the festival of the October Horse), handed over its entrails to the priest or
priests for burning on the altar (this was the actual offering to the gods),
and roasted the animal’s flesh, which was then shared out in a formal ban-
quet among the participants in the ritual, sometimes among the spectators,
and even, on certain occasions, given over to the butchers of Rome for sale
to the general public.
Particularly special sacrifices required special victims. For instance, two
white bulls, very rare and priceless, were sacrificed at the inauguration cer-
emony for the two consuls of the Republic, the highest elected political and
military officials of the state. Caesar held the consulship five times in his
career, so he would have been quite experienced with that ceremony. Ide-
ally, by his time, the consular inauguration took place every first of January
(whether all of Caesar’s inaugurations did so, considering his ongoing Civil
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Sacrifices
War, remains unclear). The consuls would climb to the top of the Capito-
line Hill, most sacred to the god Jupiter, at daybreak and observe the skies
for signs of his blessing; once received, they would return home, then go to
the Roman Forum, where crowds of citizens would join them for a march
up to the Capitoline Hill again, specifically this time to the altar in front of
the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. There they would sacrifice the
bulls.
Occasions of thanksgiving to the gods, supplicationes, also required spe-
cial sacrificial rituals. In the period from Caesar’s fighting in Gaul (roughly
modern France) to his assassination, about fourteen years, the Senate voted
a total of fifty days of supplicatio to thank the gods for his victories, more
than for any other Roman commander up to that time. Supplicationes of
this kind involved large segments of the Roman population visiting desig-
nated temples to pay homage to the deities housed there, whose images
would be seated on couches for all to see through the doorways of the
temples or even out in front; in fact, part of the thanksgiving tradition in-
cluded bringing the statues of the gods on their couches outside to enjoy
the special sacrifices with the human banqueters, a ceremony Romans called
the lectisternium.
Perhaps no organ of the Roman State relied more on the power of sac-
rifices than the military. Again, Caesar would have been quite familiar with
its particular rites. As commanding officer, he had to make offerings to
the gods before every battle and examine the signs hidden in the sacrificial
victims to discover the will of the divine and to guarantee support in his
endeavors; not to do so would have made his men and his political allies
very anxious about possible doom. After battle, a commander’s duty was to
make sacrifice again to the gods who had brought him victory. Often, such
rituals were connected with the lustration ceremonies noted above.
Caesar’s last days saw many sacrifices performed in an attempt to fore-
tell his future, specifically, to help him know whether he would live past
the Ides of March; this was a standard aspect of Roman religion, private
and public. On the morning of the Ides itself, one animal after another was
slaughtered for this purpose; over and over again, the officiants warned
Caesar that the sacrifices foretold disaster. Swayed by their interpretations
for a while, he eventually dismissed them, allowing one of the very conspir-
ators against him to lead him to his death place.
Even the assassins themselves seem to have regarded their murder of Cae-
sar as a sort of sacrifice to the spirit world. A number of them thought of
the site of the assassination, the Curia of Pompey, as divinely ordained; they
could fell Caesar before the statue of his rival, Pompey, as a blood offering
to the latter’s ghost. At least one of the famous Conspirators, Cassius, be-
haved in a way that very likely acknowledged this openly. In addition, once
the deed was done, the assassins did not run and hide, or go immediately
723
to the Roman Forum to address this business publicly, but instead marched
up to the Capitoline Hill, sacred to Jupiter, brandishing their bloody dag-
gers along the way. Clearly, they were invoking the highest god of Rome to
witness their action, their sacrifice, and gain his blessing.
Sacrifice in Roman culture, then, bound society together, marked al-
most every significant event in the lives of individuals and groups, and
recognized a commitment to the protecting deities of Roman society and
state.
See also: Agriculture; Army; Capitoline Hill; Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cloth-
ing; Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Festivals; Food and Drink; Forum
Romanum; Haruspicy; Ides of March; Lustrations; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Omens; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion, Roman; Senate
Further Reading
Ltd.
Co.
Thames and Hudson.
ing.

Admired during the age of emperors by famous Roman authors, like the
educator Quintilian, the historian Tacitus, and even the Christian theo-
logians, Jerome and Augustine, C. Sallustius Crispus (Sallust in English)
was a close associate of Julius Caesar, a statesman, a soldier, and one of
the most important Roman historians in his own right. He developed a
724
highly packed style of writing, in imitation of the great Athenian histo-

rian Thucydides, also characterized by a sort of impatient drama and terse
moralizing that became a prototype for historians and speechwriters from
Roman times to the Renaissance.
The meager information we possess on Sallust tells us that he was born in
86 BCE, east of Rome, at Amiternum in Sabine territory (modern Abruzzi),
to a plebeian family, probably of the local nobility, but historically unknown
until the first century BCE. In one of his own works, The War against Cati-
line, he discussed his youth; various ancient Roman literary critics praised
his high education. Having probably served as quaestor in 55 BCE, Sallust
definitely served as plebeian tribune three years later, when he established
himself as a political opponent of Cicero (and by extension perhaps of the
Optimates for whose interests Cicero stood) by condemning Cicero’s de-
fense of the gang leader Milo; Milo was at that time up for trial in the mur-
der of the Popularis hero, Clodius, and Sallust was one of several young
politicians who worked to achieve Milo’s conviction. Not surprisingly, in
50 BCE, the Optimate censor, Claudius Pulcher, arranged to expel Sallust
from the Senate for alleged immoral conduct, unproven by any evidence
we possess.
Julius Caesar restored Sallust to the Senate by virtue of his power as dic-
tator, either in 49 or 48 BCE. Sallust repaid this favor by serving Caesar on
campaign in the Civil War against Pompey, but he did not always perform
very well: he failed against the enemy commanders Libo and Octavius in
the province of Illyricum and was defeated by mutineers in Campania (in
southern Italy). His signal success was as praetor in 46 BCE, when he cap-
tured the enemy supply base on the island of Cercina off the North African
coast. In gratitude, Caesar rewarded Sallust with the position of proconsul
of the province of Africa Nova (northeastern Algeria and northern Libya)
in 45 BCE. Even then, Sallust’s life was checkered: he was charged with
plundering the provincials and only survived prosecution thanks to Cae-
sar’s protection.
Retiring from public life after Caesar’s assassination, Sallust lived out his
days (until his death in 35 BCE) very comfortably, lavishing his great wealth
on his villa at Tibur (modern Tivoli), on his gardens on the northern edge
of Rome (the horti Sallustiani), and on his adopted great-nephew C. Sal-
lustius Crispus the Younger, who became a good friend of the emperor Au-
gustus, Caesar’s great-nephew.
During his retirement, Sallust widely read among Greek, Roman, and
even Carthaginian (in Latin translation) authors to construct several sig-
nificant works of history; interestingly, he himself, more than once, felt the
need to vigorously defend this transition from making history to writing
history. Indeed, without Sallust’s three main works, we would know far
less about the Late Republic. The surviving fragments of his last work, the
725
Histories, cover the period from 78 to 67 BCE, basically the heyday of Pom-
pey, the period of his rise to prominence; fortunately for us, later authors
extracted speeches and letters from the full version or we would have noth-
ing to go on. Perhaps around 40 BCE, Sallust composed his War against
Jugurtha, an invaluable narrative of the rising career of Caesar’s uncle Mar-
ius and the latter’s eventual nemesis, Sulla. It displays various errors, how-
ever, in chronology, battle descriptions, and geographical details, making it
a work to be approached with care.
Most important of Sallust’s surviving writings in regard to the lifetime
of Caesar, and the strongest as an accurate work of history as far as we can
tell, is his first, probably written around 42 BCE, the War against Catiline
or Conspiracy of Catiline. Here, we have the earliest recorded historical
account of an episode from Caesar’s career, when he was praetor-elect in
63 BCE.
Sallust introduces Caesar during the investigation of Catiline’s co-
conspirators by the Senate in December of that year. Already, one of those
co-conspirators had attempted (and failed) to implicate Caesar’s close as-
sociate, M. Licinius Crassus, in Catiline’s plot against the state. Then, two
senators, Q. Catulus the Younger (who had been defeated by Caesar for the
prestigious post of Pontifex Maximus, Chief Priest of Rome, earlier in that
same year) and C. Piso (who had been charged by Caesar with executing a
man in northern Italy contrary to the law) pulled out all the stops to impli-
cate Caesar in the plot. At first, they worked on the consul Cicero, pushing
him to frame Caesar with false testimony from suborned witnesses. Cicero
refused to subvert the law in this way, so Catulus and Piso turned to spread-
ing rumors throughout the city of Caesar’s complicity; in this way, they
even worked up Cicero’s bodyguard of young equites into such distrust
of Caesar that on one occasion, as he was exiting the Temple of Concord,
in which the interrogations before the Senate were being held, the guards
threatened to attack Caesar with their swords. (The later biographer Plu-
tarch fills in this story for us by adding that Cicero himself saved Caesar’s
life at the time by signaling to the guards to let him go free.)
Sallust’s account then turns to the deliberations in the Senate on Decem-
ber 5, 63 BCE. Cicero convened this discussion upon learning that friends,
servants, and supporters of the co-conspirators in custody at that time were
making arrangements to free them by violent force. The question up for
debate was the disposition of the prisoners, who had already been con-
demned as traitors to the state. Under such circumstances, the Senate fol-
lowed its usual procedure whereby members expressed their opinions on
the subject at hand in descending order of rank. First to speak, therefore,
was Decimus Junius Silanus, consul-elect. He proposed the death penalty
for those conspirators under arrest and for several others upon their cap-
ture. Sallust does not record the views expressed by the other intervening
726
senators (except to paraphrase them as filled with fears and horrific pre-
dictions about what the plotters would achieve, if left unpunished) before
Caesar, praetor-elect, rose to speak.
According to Sallust, Caesar advised the Senate to confiscate the prop-
erty of the traitors and imprison them across Italy in various municipalities;
he also insisted that a prohibition should be set in place against any further
official debate of the case. Without coming out and saying so, the implica-
tion of Caesar’s proposal was that the conspirators were to be imprisoned
for the remainder of their lives. This solution certainly appeared unortho-
dox, but he defended it on a number of grounds. That Caesar did so using
the exact words quoted by Sallust is unlikely, and, indeed, much of the lan-
guage displays Sallust’s particular style of presentation and interpretation of
politics rather than Caesar’s, but throughout the speech one does recog-
nize some of Caesar’s known political attitudes.
First, difficult political decisions must not be made in the heat of passion
or derive from emotions. Next, history teaches the importance of maintain-
ing a virtuous reputation, of avoiding any accusation of pettiness or spite;
such a reputation holds even greater significance for members of the Sen-
ate, who are the role models for the masses of Rome. Third, in an appar-
ently direct face-to-face moment with Silanus, Caesar credited him with
wisdom and patriotism but also pointed out to him that the simple death
penalty in such as case went contrary to Roman traditions; those precedents
taught that either the condemned should be tortured first (by flogging)
and then executed or instead be allowed to go into exile far from Rome
itself. Surely in writing some of this (especially the statements about fu-
ture generations judging the death penalty more harshly than the present
age, innocent men falling victim to new precedents intended for the guilty,
or future magistrates legally using the sword against fellow Romans with-
out restraint of custom), Sallust must have had in mind the actions of the
Triumvirs Antony, Octavian, and Lepidus, who at the very time when the
historian was composing this monograph had engaged in the execution of
fellow citizens, including Cicero, contrary to the old Roman ways. Caesar
would have agreed fully with Sallust’s sentiments in this regard, especially
with his condemnation of Sulla’s precedent of dealing with political rivals
through violence.
Caesar’s arguments met their most significant rebuttal from the tribune-
elect M. Porcius Cato. He viewed the conspirators as worse than foreign en-
emies and urged that their conspiracy be slapped down hard; he suspected
that Caesar might not have been afraid of them being left alive because he
was somehow complicit in their plot. Cato rejected Caesar’s clemency, for
which the latter was already famous, in fact, in the law courts of Rome, as
reckless weakness and naïveté, and Cato’s strong support of the death pen-
alty tipped the senatorial debate in favor of that expedient.
727
Senate
In a digression on what made Rome great, Sallust appears to agree very

much with the views of Cato: a few eminent men built the empire; decline
during the Late Republic developed from a plague of declining morals,
disregard of the gods, and a love of riches and extravagant living. Yet, Sal-
lust regarded both Cato and his rival, Caesar, as the great men of his time,
the men of virtus. Rome, in Sallust’s estimation at least, and in this he ap-
pears profound and accurate, needed not just the austerity, self-restraint,
and firmness of character of Cato but also the generosity, humaneness, and
devoted patronage of Caesar.
See also: Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus
(106–43 BCE); Prison; Proscriptions
Further Reading
Earl, D. C. 1961. The Political Thought of Sallust. Cambridge: Cambridge Univer-
sity Press.
Handford, S. A. 1964. Sallust: The Jugurthine War and the Conspiracy of Catiline.
New York: Penguin Publishing
McGushin, P. 1994. The Histories. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
Syme, R. 1964. Sallust. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.
Senate
Julius Caesar served formally as a member of this body of Roman leaders
from the time of his quaestorship in 69 BCE until his assassination in 44
BCE. By that period, the Senate had risen in power, prestige, and wealth to
a position of supreme control not only over the city of Rome but over the
entire Roman Empire.
From available evidence, it seems that, originally, the Senate consisted
of the patres, that is, the male heads of significant families, selected by the
early kings of Rome; traditionally, this started when the first king of Rome,
Romulus, selected one hundred “fathers” as his ruling council (mid-eighth
century BCE). Senators served for life, advising the kings of Rome on many
important matters, as well as selecting new kings, a practice found among
other councils of elders throughout ancient Italy, because kingship was not
necessarily inherited; rather, the patres consulted the gods through par-
ticular rituals (“took the auspices”) and appointed an interrex from among
themselves (a stand-in king) until a favorable new king had been chosen
(Roman tradition recorded this as happening in the cases of the kings Numa
Pompilius, Tullus Hostilius, Ancus Marcius, and Tarquinius Priscus).
The leaders of the “revolution” (late sixth century BCE) that toppled
the last king of Rome, Tarquin the Proud, came from the Senate. They
728
Senate
Cicero Denouncing Catiline, engraving by B. Barloccini, 1849. In this image, the

artist accurately portrays the senators sitting separately from Catiline to demonstrate
their disagreement with his schemes. (The Bridgeman Art Library/Getty Images)
gradually established a new political order that fit with their concept of rule
by aristocracy, the supposedly “best” people of the community who felt
specially suited to rule—that is, themselves. These early senators had come
to fear tyranny, as represented by the king, but they also feared the com-
mon people and demagogues who might stir them up; so, the Senate was
certainly not democratic in temperament. But it was the central institution
of the new political order which Romans came to refer to as res publica,
Republic.
By the early fifth century BCE, the members of the Senate had increased
their number by new appointments, known as conscripti. The number of
these old and new senators, Patres et Conscripti as the Romans called them,
grew further as Roman aristocrats were elected to annual magistracies, the
various public offices that had assumed the separate powers of the former
kings of Rome. Particular magistracies admitted their holders to the Sen-
ate as lifetime members; by Caesar’s time, any of such offices automatically
did so.
Roman tradition recorded that fifty or so families attempted to jealously
guard their privileged position, to guarantee themselves exclusive access
to the magistracies and the Senate in the early days of the Republic. These
families called themselves patricians as they descended from the original pa-
tres of the aristocracy. The wealthiest members of the rest of the free Roman
729
Senate
population, the plebeians, resented their exclusion from positions of power

and policy and agitated either for admission or re-admission to the Senate
(as conscripti). After many controversies and confrontations over genera-
tions, wealthy plebeians assured by law their partnership with patricians as
magistrates and senators. Wealth in land thereafter became the chief quali-
fication for senatorial membership; one had to own property valued at a
minimum of 400,000 sesterces or 100,000 denarii. This placed senators,
whether patrician or plebeian, roughly as far above average Roman citizens
as multimillionaires are above school teachers in terms of income in mod-
ern society.
The distinction between patrician and plebeian senators did not disap-
pear, but changes in the Senate like those mentioned, and others that took
place from the fifth through third centuries BCE, created new and more
relevant distinctions and gradations among senators. The Senate became a
body organized by rank, according to the seniority of the offices one held
or had held. The men who had served only as quaestors, aediles, or plebe-
ian tribunes, certainly the majority of the Senate, constituted the lowest
level, known as pedarii, those who stood up in the back row during meet-
ings. All other senators had the privilege of sitting down during meetings.
This included those who had served as praetors, the first rank above the
pedarii, and above them, those who had served as consuls and censors.
The consuls and censors came to be regarded as the most honorable and
influential group within the Senate; well before Caesar’s time, they had ac-
quired the special titles of principes (first citizens), clarissimi (bright ones),
and nobiles (notable ones) or nobles, to use the English version of the word.
The nobles constituted in some ways a governing council even among the
other senators.
These ranks played an important part in determining which senators
voiced their views and which could dominate the debate. An incumbent
magistrate, specifically a censor, consul, praetor, or tribune of the plebs,
summoned the Senate to meet, acted as its presiding officer, and presented
issues for discussion; he then asked for opinions by rank. So, the princeps
senatus, a senator of top magisterial experience designated by the Roman
censors, always spoke first; the consuls-elect had precedence after him, fol-
lowed by ex-censors and current censors, ex-consuls and current consuls,
ex-praetors and current praetors, and so on, speaking in that descending
order of status. The presiding magistrate would call for a vote whenever he
felt a sufficient number of senior senators, or at least particularly important
senators, had had their say. Thus, often the pedarii never even had a chance
to express their viewpoints; usually, they would simply agree with what
their seniors had already said in the debate. The majority decision achieved
in this way was recorded by the incumbent quaestors as a senatorial recom-
mendation or decree, a senatus consultum.
730
Senate
Evidence indicates a great deal of latitude for decision making on the

part of individual senators, whether out of self-interest, concern for prin-
ciples, or for the common good. The position of a particular senator, how-
ever, was not always his alone, for it might be that of a group of senators to
which he belonged. Alliances of individuals made through marriage con-
nections created most groupings within the Senate. Family loyalty meant
a great deal to the very traditional Romans, and among Roman senators,
quite complicated and extensive family ties existed, even more confused
by divorces, remarriages, and adoptions between families, often political
in origin, and very prevalent by the Late Republic. Such links exercised
tremendous influence on political decisions when the leading members of
senatorial families applied emotional or moral pressures to gain votes for
the good of the family’s or families’ honor, wealth, or power. Yet family ties
did not always mean seeing eye-to-eye in senatorial debate, as evidence es-
pecially from the Late Republic indicates that family members might be the
worst of opponents in the Senate.
FILIBUSTER
The ancient Romans were familiar with the filibuster, in the sense of
the tactic whereby one talked out one’s political opponents until no
time for a vote or any other action remained to them. Caesar appar-
ently employed such a tactic himself as praetor in 62 BCE, when he
supported the radical efforts of the plebeian tribune, Metellus Nepos,
until both of them were ordered to be removed from the Senate by
their peers. Two years later, Caesar’s staunchest political adversary,
Cato the Younger, successfully filibustered a meeting of the Senate
to prevent Caesar from gaining his special request to stand for the
consulship and hold a triumphal ceremony at the same time. In the
following year, during Caesar’s own consulship, Cato attempted a fili-
buster again, intending to interrupt and eventually stop proceedings
initiated by Caesar, especially a land redistribution law; this time, the
latter took action, having Cato removed from the Senate by force.
It is said that even then Cato continued speaking against Caesar’s
proposals, even as he was being led off to detention, and the people
crowded around put pressure on Caesar to release Cato. The filibus-
ter may have failed Cato in this instance, but he continued to utilize
it whenever the need arose in later years, primarily with Caesar’s goals
as the target.
731
Senate
Some senators aligned with one another only briefly, frequently to work
together in forcing out mutual opponents from the competition for of-
fice; the Romans called these coitiones, “coalitions.” Some formed longer-
term, more complex combinations. These, too, might have strong familial
foundations, but mostly formed around one or more strong, charismatic,
and accomplished politician(s) who had a particular view on the issues of
the day and clear objectives in mind. In Roman parlance, such a grouping
might be termed a factio (faction) if it consisted of “scoundrels” plotting
against the greater good. Scholars often use the term faction in a freer sense
to describe the more enduring alliances among senators.
The Senate stood at the heart of a much larger group within Roman
society, the ordo senatoriale, which we translate variously as the senato-
rial aristocracy, senatorial class, or senatorial order; it included not only
the members of the Senate but also their families, especially their sons. By
the end of the third century BCE, new senators were usually selected from
within the senatorial order rather than from outside of it; members of this
order pretty exclusively married only among themselves. In addition, the
nobiles regarded it as their duty to restrict as much as possible the sorts of
men who attained the consulship and thus the highest status in the Senate.
Combined with the restricted size of the Senate, maintained by the censors
at about 300 men, all this had the effect of making the Senate a closed club,
consisting entirely of aristocrats from a very small set of families.
The exceptions were the novi homines, the new men who came from
wealthy and powerful families but not from families of the senatorial aris-
tocracy. They were often resented by members of the older senatorial fami-
lies, despite the fact that new men were quite assimilated into senatorial
culture; they generally supported the status quo. Once they had reached
the in-crowd or the top of the heap, they had no intention of rocking the
boat or of bringing in too many other new men to join them. Usually, new
men were born in Italian towns allied to Rome that had received Roman
citizenship as the Republic expanded its power in the peninsula; aristocrats
from these places, such as M. Porcius Cato the Elder of Tusculum, C. Mar-
ius of Arpinum, and M. Tullius Cicero, also from Arpinum, tried to make it
into the senatorial aristocracy of Rome and succeeded marvelously. Some-
times, these new men came from the equestrian order, the class in Roman
society just below the senatorial order. In either case, patronage from the
current members of the senatorial aristocracy was still always required to
enter its ranks.
The senators of the Republic, especially the nobiles, served as advisors
to the annual magistrates, recommending policies and proposing laws. Be-
fore the dictatorship of Sulla in the early first century BCE, no such officials
legally had to seek this advice, but custom had always dictated that one
should do so before proceeding in one’s official actions or placing bills
732
Senate
before the voting assemblies. In practice, then, magistrates served as the

executors of the Senate’s will. The Roman people regarded the Senate as
a sacred repository of wisdom, experience, talents, and accomplishments,
believing that the senators themselves served the people as their patriotic
duty and possessed tremendous clout and respectability, what the Romans
called auctoritas. The work of the censors reinforced this: these magistrates
evaluated the wealth, health, and especially the moral conduct of senators
to determine if they were fit to remain such and to censure them or even
expel them from the Senate if they were not. So, obedience to the august
Senate’s recommendations was virtually guaranteed by custom. No wonder
the senators met officially in various consecrated places of the city or within
a mile from the city, and only while the sun shined (all of which linked their
gathering to Roman religious rituals).
Rome’s expansion throughout the Mediterranean world saw the spread
of senatorial leadership overseas in Spain, Greece, Asia Minor, North Af-
rica, and so on, especially since the senatorial class provided the governors
who were sent to the subject territories to ensure peace, order, stability, and
the flow of tax revenues to Rome. Senatorial decision assigned generals and
provincial governors to their specific appointments; the Senate expected
those generals and governors to follow an agreed-upon plan of action and
confirmed their deeds as constitutional and binding on Rome; senatorial
sanction permitted generals and governors to draw money from the trea-
sury; and senators rewarded generals and governors for their achievements
with various honors, especially triumphal celebrations. The Senate stood
supreme in foreign policy decisions: war and peace, treaties and assignment
of statuses to specific communities all fell to the Senate.
Senators knew how to manage state finances, levy and organize troops,
allocate territorial responsibilities, negotiate with foreign countries, even
interpret religious phenomena; they possessed military and administrative
know-how that very few other Romans possessed. The People of Rome, like
their annual magistrates, depended on the Senate to hash out options and
courses of day-to-day action, as well as over the long haul, since senators
served the People of Rome for life. The Senate, thus, became and remained
the central organ of the Republic, bastion of official experience, guide to
the magistrates, and source of proposals for the Popular Assemblies. The
nobiles at the top of the senatorial heap directed the policy of the Senate,
and thereby of the state, according to their shared conception of what was
good for Rome and what they regarded as the traditions of their ancestors,
the mos maiorum. Destabilization of this shared conception and tradition,
and thus destabilization of the Senate itself by its own members, primarily
Caesar (who as dictator increased the number of senators to 900, an un-
wieldy membership), Pompey, Crassus, Antony, and Octavian, contributed
significantly to the collapse of the Republic and the rise of one-man rule.
733
See also: Elections; Equites; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Optimates; Pa-

trons and Clients; Popular Assemblies; Populares; Senatus Consultum Ulti-
mum (CSU); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Byrd, R. C., and R. A. Baker. 2001. The Senate of the Roman Republic. Honolulu:
University Press of the Pacific.
Shatzman, I. 1975. Senatorial Wealth in Roman Politics. Brussels, Belgium: Lato-
mus.
Wiseman, T. P. 1971. New Men in the Roman Senate. Oxford, UK: Oxford Uni-
versity Press.

The Senate of Rome, the central institution of the Republic, consisted, in
Julius Caesar’s time, of members of the Roman aristocracy who had served
or were serving in executive capacities as magistrates of the state. As a body,
the Senate’s primary role was to advise the acting magistrates, as well as to
recommend policies and proposals for new laws to those officials and to the
voting public. All of this was done through formal senatorial resolutions or
senatus consulta. Most controversial of all senatorial declarations was that
“concerning the defense of the Republic” (de re publica defendenda), what
Julius Caesar referred to in his own writings as the “final decree of the Sen-
ate” (senatus consultum ultimum [SCU]).
Obedience to senatorial declarations, the products of debate and major-
ity vote within the Senate, was virtually guaranteed by Roman custom, by
the respect that all Romans had for the venerable senators, and by the fact
that the magistrates thus advised by the Senate were themselves members of
that body. As one can imagine, over time, senatus consulta came to encom-
pass a wide array of decisions, from instructions for provincial governors
to commands for allied kings, from orders relieving magistrates of certain
duties to conferrals of special authority upon state officials, from declara-
tion of a citizen as a public enemy to reward of a victorious general with
a triumphal celebration, and so on. Through the SCU (to use the abbre-
viation employed by today’s scholars), the Senate called upon the consuls
and other magistrates to do whatever was necessary to protect the Repub-
lic from danger; this did not confer extra powers upon these officials, but
rather informed them, first, that the Senate believed a critical situation had
arisen, and, second, that it threw its support behind any required action to
734
end the crisis. Magistrates therefore felt emboldened by this decree to uti-
lize all powers at their disposal with impunity and to summon all citizens
“who desired the safety of the State” to assist them in restoring order.
The Senate first issued the SCU against the activities of the plebeian tri-
bune C. Sempronius Gracchus, in 121 BCE. Not only had the latter pro-
moted reforms for the poor that challenged the wealth and comfort of the
rich, but he had also taken various measures to punish his fellow senators
for the death of his brother Tiberius, murdered literally at their hands. One
of Gracchus’s laws specifically forbade the execution of a Roman citizen by
Roman officials without the approval of the voters in Popular Assembly.
Another law punished those who used illegal means in the courts to elimi-
nate political opponents and deny them the right of appeal to the Assem-
bly of Centuries in capital cases. A third law forbade the establishment of
special courts (like the one that ordered the execution of hundreds of his
brother’s adherents) without passage of a law by the People of Rome.
Outraged by his moves against them, his opponents in the Senate imple-
mented countermoves to undermine Gracchus’s legislation; in passionate
protest against this, his supporters gathered in large numbers outside his
home on the Aventine Hill. Fearful of this demonstration of mass solidarity,
the majority of the Senate declared that the consul of 121, L. Opimius, and
his fellow magistrates see to it that no harm come to the Republic, that this
“threat” to stability and order be stopped. Opimius gathered a force of mi-
litia and killed most of the protestors; Gracchus himself escaped briefly and
then committed suicide. The survivors of the confrontation fell victim to
another special court presided over by Opimius, who deliberately ignored
the new laws of Gracchus against such proceedings.
Roughly twenty years later, the plebeian tribune L. Appuleius Saturninus
also ended up on the receiving end of the SCU. He had put poor Roman
citizens and veterans from the army of C. Marius, his political ally, to work
in the election processes of Rome, to vote for him, but especially to in-
timidate opponents and eliminate rivals. This secured his efforts as tribune,
both in 103 and 100 BCE, and even during the intervening years, when he
held no formal office, he remained a force to be reckoned with in Roman
politics because of his armed followers. Saturninus eventually went too far
in his policies and his behavior (including the “accidental” murder of a poli-
tician who stood against one of his key supporters), and yet he had enough
force behind him to bring the voting assembly into a state of riot and to
send the Senate into a state of panic. The leadership of that body could not
bear to see Saturninus tribune for another year (which he had attained), so
M. Aemilius Scaurus, then the senior senator or princeps senatus, proposed
that the Senate declare the SCU.
Under this authorization, the two consuls, Marius and L. Valerius Flac-
cus, summoned the assistance of all the praetors (except Saturninus’s friend
735
Glaucia) and all the plebeian tribunes (except Saturninus himself) against
Saturninus and his associates; they also called upon the patriotic citizenry
to join in the action, arming the volunteers with weapons taken from gov-
ernment arsenals and even from the temples of the gods. Despite the fa-
mous orator Cicero’s later assertion that no Roman man failed to heed this
summons and join the consuls, obviously, it was unrealistic to expect every
one of the hundreds of thousands of adult male Roman citizens across Italy
to show up for this, but hundreds in Rome itself seem to have done so.
More critically, no member of the aristocracy could avoid this summons
and maintain honor among his peers; even the ill and disabled dragged
themselves to the Roman Forum at least to display their support, if not ac-
tually to fight.
In the end, it was fellow citizens, not the magistrates, who killed the tri-
bune and his comrades. At least in the immediate aftermath of these events,
even to mention the name of Saturninus fondly or to display an image of
his face brought charges of colluding with a known traitor, loss of citizen
rights, and exile. An SCU could thus produce ripple effects that went well
beyond the intended target of the resolution.
Though the evidence is not explicit on the point, the “final decree of the
Senate” may have been issued next against Julius Caesar’s father-in-law, L.
Cornelius Cinna, thirteen years after the fall of Saturninus. Cinna made use
of intimidation and armed men, though not on the same scale as Saturninus
had done, to attempt reforms in favor of new citizens throughout Italy; tri-
bunician vetoes of these reforms had generated a riot in the Roman Forum
between long-time citizens and the newcomers. Cinna’s consular colleague
C. Octavius, after having met with the Senate, entered the Forum with a
large number of armed men, and it has been suggested that he had received
approval through an SCU to restore the peace and to drive Cinna out of
Rome, since the latter was blamed for fomenting all the trouble. Cinna’s
own faction, when it controlled Rome a few years later, apparently pressed
the divided Senate into issuing another SCU, this time against Cinna’s chief
rival, L. Cornelius Sulla, who vowed to destroy the Cinnani with an army
loyal to himself. In this case, both sides claimed to be fighting to maintain
order in Rome.
The next firmly attested deployment of the Senate’s “final decree” came
in 77 BCE at the instigation of another very senior senator, L. Marcius Philip-
pus, against M. Aemilius Lepidus the Elder. The former charged the latter
with defying the authority of the Senate, raising a private army to be used
against his own capital city, and collaborating with the “worst enemies” of
Rome (by which he probably meant former Cinnani); since Lepidus had
neither disbanded the armed forces under his command nor returned to
Rome to preside over elections there, Philippus urged the proconsul Catu-
lus the Younger, the interim “mayor” of Rome (interrex) Appius Claudius,
736
and other officials with imperium (right to command and be obeyed) to

protect Rome and the Republic from danger. Catulus led the main attack
force against Lepidus, defeating him twice in battle and driving him from
Italy.
While the SCU directed against Lepidus and his followers clearly identi-
fied the threat they posed to the state, fourteen years later, the consul Ci-
cero could only procure from the Senate a vaguely worded “final decree”
to deal with the conspiracy hatched by senator Catiline. Cicero had kept
Catiline under surveillance through spies for much of the year, but, despite
the intelligence he had thus gathered, it was not sufficient to convince the
Senate to name Catiline or anyone else specifically in their decree. Still, the
SCU acknowledged the presence of real danger to the state and especially
to its officials and encouraged them to take precautions against the plot;
Cicero utilized the resolution to justify his efforts at securing Italy, and par-
ticularly Rome itself, and raising troops through the agency of other offi-
cials, as well as in offering sizable rewards to informants. He also relied on
the SCU as the ultimate basis for his execution of Catiline’s co-conspirators
near the end of that year.
In the following decade, the landscape of Roman politics changed sig-
nificantly with the rise of what we call the First Triumvirate, the coalition of
Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus. These men not only unleashed armed gangs
to enforce their will but also did all they could to manipulate elections to
promote politicians favorable to their agenda. As the gang violence in the
streets and in the Forum increased, the Senate considered issuing its “final
decree” to restore order, but most members feared doing so, since an SCU
would give even more authority to magistrates who were generally on the
side of the already-too-influential Triumvirs.
The last SCU to consider here came at the very start of the next decade
and was aimed at Julius Caesar. Over the course of several years, his ene-
mies within the Senate had demanded his return from provincial command
in Gaul (roughly modern France) so that they might put him on trial for a
number of questionable deeds he had committed; on the other side of the
fence, his supporters had found ways to postpone his recall. A majority view
on the matter did not exist, so the debate over Caesar dragged on. Then,
in the fall of 51 BCE, under intense pressure from those senators known as
Optimates, the Senate approved four resolutions that in one way or another
had an impact on Caesar’s future. These senatus consulta confirmed that the
Senate would investigate claims from Caesar’s soldiers for the right of im-
mediate discharge and discuss the reassignment of his provincial command
no later than March 1, 50 BCE.
In that year, however, Caesar’s friends and associates pulled out all the
stops to prevent these senatorial resolutions from achieving anything. As
a matter of fact, one of Caesar’s supporters C. Scribonius Curio, in the
737
summer of 50 BCE, offered a new resolution for the Senate to consider: that
both Caesar and his chief rival, Pompey, step down from their provincial
commands simultaneously and retire into private life, thus freeing the state
from the impending doom of civil war. After months of wrangling, the Sen-
ate finally passed this resolution, by a vote of 370 to 22, on December 1.
The leading Optimates refused to accept this, however, and, on the very
next day, urged Pompey to lead an army against Caesar in defense of the
Republic.
Caesar’s counterproposals during the remainder of the year fell on deaf
ears, as the Optimates basically seized control of the Senate with the back-
ing of Pompey’s legions, and the vetoes of the plebeian tribunes, like Marc
Antony and Q. Cassius, brought them both banishment from Rome. Fi-
nally, on January 7, 49 BCE, the Senate took the fateful step of passing the
SCU against Caesar. Immediately on receiving news of this, the latter sent
orders to his army in Gaul to join him as soon as possible; on the night of
January 10/11, with a small force, he crossed the Rubicon, the little river
that constituted the limit of his province in northern Italy. His senato-
rial opponents had shoved him into a corner from which he had only one
means of escape, that is, civil war.
Since the fall of C. Gracchus, one of the first great heroes, like his older
brother, of those Romans who called themselves Populares (“champions of
the People”), the Senate had wielded its “final resolution” overwhelmingly
against Populares. The latter always resisted the SCU since it bypassed, in-
deed undermined, the hard-won tradition of provocatio, the right of appeal,
and, indeed, all due process. The terms of the decree were so vague that
it did not even necessarily identify who or how many posed a danger to
the state. When the Senate made its ultimate decree, there was no chance
for the citizen to defend his or her rights in court or before the People of
Rome; death, or at best being chased out of town, was guaranteed. Popula-
res favored at least some delimiting language to prevent wholesale slaughter
of suspected (let alone accused) citizens. More hard-line senators, like the
so-called Optimates, on the other side, favored keeping the SCU just as it
was since it gave them a means to intimidate and eliminate trouble-makers
at a moment’s notice.
Those who carried out the injunctions of an SCU, however, often fared
badly themselves. The chief opponents of Caius Gracchus found them-
selves harassed and hauled up before the courts by their other political
rivals, whether sympathetic to Gracchus or not; the consul Opimius, for
example, came under prosecution before the People of Rome on a charge
of putting citizens to death against the law, and even though he got off
that time, he later fell under suspicion of colluding with a foreign enemy
and was driven into exile. Senator Rabirius, one of the men involved in
the killing of Saturninus, became the lightning rod for all of them as he
738
Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE)
suffered multiple prosecutions, including one launched by Julius Caesar

on the charge of murdering a citizen under safe conduct; Rabirius escaped
all charges, but not the stain of obeying the SCU. Most famously, Cicero,
attacked by opponents even before his term as consul ended, accused of
butchering Roman citizens and ignoring constitutional due process, paid
the price a few years later when the tribune Clodius forced him into exile,
while his “friends” in the Senate did precious little to stop it. Finally, the
SCU, the boldest of all senatorial resolutions, drove Julius Caesar to wage
war against his own country and most of those senators who had supported
the decree lost their lives as a result of it.
See also: Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Cinna
the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Lepidus the Elder (d. 77
BCE); Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Populares; Senate; Sulla (ca.
138–78 BCE); Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
University Press.

In the Late Republic, having mistresses was common practice among the
married men of the Roman aristocracy; indeed, in Caesar’s time, even aris-
tocratic women had their lovers outside of marriage. As long as an affair
did not result in the birth of illegitimate offspring nor cause serious politi-
cal fallout among the individuals and families involved, it could usually be
739
carried on without too much danger of disgrace. Such was the case in the
relationship between Caesar and Servilia.
Probably born around the same time as Caesar himself, that is, ca. 100
BCE, Servilia’s parents, Q. Servilius Caepio and Livia Drusa, divorced dur-
ing her early childhood. She had a younger sister, also named Servilia, and
a younger brother, named after their father, all three very close in age. Even
though Roman custom normally placed the children of a divorce in the cus-
tody of their father, it seems quite likely that they, in fact, resided with Livia
Drusa; according to the account of the Imperial biographer Plutarch, her
children later grew up in the household of her brother, the reform-minded
plebeian tribune M. Livius Drusus, who would have acted, under Roman
law, as defender of his sister’s interests. Her brood by that time included yet
another child, Cato the Younger, born ca. 95 BCE, from a second marriage
that took place quite soon after her divorce from the first.
Tragedies struck Servilia’s family in quick succession: Livius Drusus was
murdered in 91 BCE, Servilius Caepio fell in combat in 90 BCE, her half-
brother Cato’s dad and their mom Livia around the same time (dates and
causes unrecorded). Nonetheless, the children remained remarkably resil-
ient and emotionally close; young Cato grew up particularly devoted to
his older siblings, especially his brother Caepio and his big sister, the elder
Servilia.
Her share of tragedy did not end there, though. Pompey executed her
first husband, M. Junius Brutus the Elder, as a traitor to the state in 77
BCE; Brutus’s career had been fairly undistinguished, but he had joined the
revolt of Lepidus the Elder with great determination, only to find himself
besieged by Pompey’s forces, seduced into surrendering, and then treach-
erously killed not long after. His death left Servilia under a cloud of political
suspicion and with the responsibility of raising their son, the more famous
Brutus, about eight years old at the time. Fortunately, she had the full, en-
thusiastic help of both her brother (who later adopted her son as his own)
and her half-brother (who treated her son like his own).
Servilia, however, literally got into bed with a man who would become
one of Cato’s bitterest enemies, and the target of assassination by her own
son, namely, Julius Caesar. Rumor circulated that Brutus was, in fact, Cae-
sar’s child; certainly, in the last decade or so of the latter’s life, he showed
a special tenderness toward Brutus. Yet, there is absolutely no evidence for
the affair going back as far as the year in which Brutus was born, and, be-
sides, teenage Roman boys, like Caesar at the time of Brutus’s birth, would
have been kept under strict supervision around teenage Roman girls, who
were often already married, as in Servilia’s case. When their relationship
began is, indeed, hard to pin down, though. It may have started after the
execution of Brutus the Elder, but before her second marriage to D. Junius
Silanus (the dates for which are sketchy, but probably beginning sometime
740
in the mid-70s BCE), or just after that second marriage had begun, or later
after Cornelia, Caesar’s first wife, died in 69 BCE.
Regardless of when or how the affair began, it lasted, on-again, off-
again, over many years, and, among his many mistresses, Caesar had great-
est affection for Servilia. Plutarch asserted that she dearly loved Caesar, in
fact, writing him love letters, one of which (embarrassingly) was read out
before the Senate by Cato, during a heated debate regarding the Conspir-
acy of Catiline (Cato wrongly presumed the letter to be a political message
of intrigue between Catiline and Caesar). Servilia clearly had considerable
boldness, indeed perhaps something of the exhibitionist thrill-seeker about
her, sending a note to her lover at the Senate with her male relations right
there. Their affair, then, was definitely not a hidden matter, despite the fact
that Servilia’s second husband was the then-consul designate with whom
Caesar had started the debate, and despite the fact that Caesar himself was
also married at the time (to young Pompeia, who never seemed to receive
much of his attention). Indeed, the political tension between Silanus and
Caesar might have been started by mutual knowledge of the affair. Regard-
less, it is odd that Silanus did not divorce Servilia after her scandalous note
had been revealed in the Senate; perhaps he and Caesar had made some sort
of arrangement. In any event, Caesar and Servilia had found in each other
kindred spirits: strong-willed, interesting, intelligent, and controversial.
All this contributed in no small part to Cato’s resentment of Caesar. Not
only did he regard Caesar as a threat to the Republic, but also, very much
unlike the latter, Cato was notably old-fashioned when it came to sex, be-
lieving that it had a place only within marriage. His very low opinion of
Caesar on multiple grounds seems to have done little, however, to stop his
sister from pursuing the affair. Cato would have to counteract it by other
means.
With Silanus, Servilia had three daughters, all named Junia, probably
born when she was in her thirties, unusual timing for Roman women of
that time. At least two of them were not yet married in 61 BCE, when Pom-
pey proposed that he and his son marry them. The proposal was rejected
by Cato, who took upon himself the old-fashioned role of guardian to the
women of his family; Silanus, apparently, played no part, instead deferring
to his more influential brother-in-law. Considering this, the eventual mar-
riages of Servilia’s daughters (arranged with Isauricus, Lepidus, and Cas-
sius, respectively) may also have been the work of Cato (though in the cases
of Isauricus and Lepidus, Servilia may have had a hand, since both of them
became early supporters of Caesar in the Civil War).
By Silanus’s death, sometime in the early 50s BCE, Caesar had already
married a third time, to Calpurnia. Caesar may have truly loved Servilia, as
most of the ancient sources tend to agree, but he did not wait for her and
he did not divorce his wife to be with her. We do not know the reasons.
741
He did lavish upon Servilia the most expensive presents, including a pearl
worth 1.5 million denarii; later as dictator, he arranged for her to buy valu-
able villas and other properties lost by his political enemies, for consider-
ably, and purposely, discounted prices at what was supposedly open auction.
So, even though Servilia remained an unmarried widow for the rest of
her life, something did continue between her and Caesar. The orator Ci-
cero, certainly not an impartial witness toward either of them, went so far
as to sully their relationship by pointedly remarking that Servilia prostituted
her own young daughter, Junia Tertia, to Caesar to keep him interested;
this should probably be dismissed as the kind of character assassination typi-
cal among the Roman elite of that time, especially since Tertia would have
been married to Caesar’s enemy, Cassius, at the time Cicero implies for her
mother’s offer.
Unfortunately, aside from her business and matchmaking deals in the
world of Roman high society, the evidence for Servilia’s activities during
Caesar’s time in control of Rome is lacking. She worked with her son in
the few years of his reconciliation with Caesar, and Cicero kept track of
this through letters with his friend, Atticus, who was also a close friend of
hers. We do not know, however, what she thought about Cato’s suicide,
or about the literary quarrels afterward between Caesar, Cicero, and oth-
ers over her half-brother’s reputation and political legacy. We do not even
know whether she favored or opposed the assassination of Caesar or if her
son, Brutus, and son-in-law, Cassius, consulted her on the matter.
Once the dust had settled, however, Servilia emerged as quite politically
influential. Her son and some of the other Conspirators met at her villa
in Antium (modern Anzio) three months after the assassination to discuss
the merits of cooperation with Caesar’s lieutenants, Antony and Lepidus
(the latter was, remember, another of her sons-in-law). At this gathering,
even though Brutus asked Cicero to speak first on what to do next, Ser-
vilia slammed Cicero for having the gall to criticize her son and son-in-law
(i.e., Cassius) for not having killed Antony when they had the chance
(among other things). She did agree with Cicero, though, that the best
course of action for them was to leave Italy for their own safety, while she
remained behind to arrange various matters with the Senate; for instance,
she would make sure that they received provincial commands worthy of
their talents.
Servilia lived long enough to learn of the defeat and death of her son,
as well as her son-in-law, Cassius, in their final confrontation with Marc
Antony and Octavian in the fall of 42 BCE. She received the ashes of Bru-
tus from Antony, who had given him a proper funeral in Greece. Servilia
died sometime afterward, having suffered so many personal tragedies, hav-
ing witnessed so many upheavals of the state, and having been right in the
thick of it all her life.
742
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Ci-
cero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE); Corne-
lia (d. 69 BCE); Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE); Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12
BCE); Marriage/Divorce; Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Pompey (106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Routledge.
nesota Press.
lishing.
University Press.

Despite all of Julius Caesar’s victories in the Civil War of 49–45 BCE, there
were many who continued to resist him and could not be reconciled to
him. Among these were Cnaeus and Sextus Pompeius, the sons of his chief
rival, Pompey the Great. Sextus Pompey survived the war, outlived Caesar
himself, and harassed the latter’s successors, especially his adopted son, Oc-
tavian, not only to maintain the honor of his own family but also to claim
some share in the ruling of the empire as a tribute to his father’s memory.
After Pompey’s defeat at Caesar’s hands in the Battle of Pharsalus (sum-
mer of 48 BCE), Sextus, safely ensconced on the Greek island of Lesbos
with Cornelia Metella, his stepmother, joined her and his father in flight
to Egypt, where they hoped to find refuge with the ruling family, the Ptol-
emies. Pompey’s murder at the orders of Ptolemy XIII’s advisors in Sep-
tember 48 BCE left Sextus with two choices: either return to Rome with his
743
Sextus (the Son of Pompey),

Applying to Erictho, to Know the
Fate of the Battle of Pharsalia.
Engraving by R. Dunkarton,
1776. (Time Life Pictures/
Mansell/The LIFE Picture
Collection/Getty Images)
stepmother, which would have meant accepting Caesar’s pardon (as she
did) or travel to the province of Africa (modern Tunisia) and continue the
fight against Caesar along with his brother Cnaeus and other Pompeians.
He decided on the latter course of action.
The Alexandrian War and other operations in the East, as well as the need
for his presence in Italy, delayed Caesar’s invasion of North Africa until
nearly the end of 47 BCE. In the meantime, his many opponents there gath-
ered considerable forces to confront him. Cnaeus Pompey had preserved
an effective portion of his father’s fleet and used it, with the blessing of the
other Pompeian commanders, to secure the Balearic islands off the coast
of Spain and then to invade the Spanish provinces themselves in the hope
of winning the populations there over to the cause. By 46 BCE, Cnaeus had
raised thirteen legions with the help of other enemies of Caesar, including
those who came over from Africa after Caesar’s victory there in the Battle
of Thapsus (April 46); among these refugees was Sextus, who had evidently
stayed behind in North Africa to participate in the war effort there.
Caesar’s legates in Spain could make no progress against the Pompeians,
so once again he had to see to matters himself. He left Rome late in 46,
taking with him eight legions. On his arrival in southern Spain, he found
Sextus Pompey in command of the garrison in the most important city,
Corduba (modern Córdoba). Caesar attacked the town with cavalry and
“covert” legionaries, who were countered by the garrison forces. A fierce
744
skirmish outside the walls resulted in the deaths of many of Sextus’s men.
He sent a plea for immediate assistance to his brother, then conducting
military operations some thirty or so miles south against resistant provin-
cials; Cnaeus complied with the summons and reinforced the defenses of
Corduba.
The two opposing armies then spent the rest of the winter alternately
luring one another and chasing one another across southern Spain, each
trying to gain the advantage through further skirmishes and attempts to
force an open battle on their own terms. Finally, in March 45 BCE, the two
armies engaged on the plains of Munda. This hardest-fought battle of the
Civil War cost tens of thousands of lives and virtually annihilated the Pom-
peian forces.
Sextus Pompey received word of this disaster at Corduba. In response,
he handed over money and cavalry to the townspeople, as well as two le-
gions of rag-tag soldiers, for their defense against Caesar, whom he sus-
pected rightly would next march against Corduba, and departed himself,
claiming to be making his way to Caesar to negotiate peace terms. Mean-
while, his brother Cnaeus had survived and managed to escape to the very
southern tip of Spain, only to be captured by some of Caesar’s men, who
executed and beheaded him almost a month after the Battle of Munda.
Sextus never did negotiate with Caesar, but instead disappeared. He re-
lied on the assistance of natives in the far west of Spain (Lusitania, mod-
ern Portugal, not yet incorporated into the empire) who had had good
relations with his father in his heyday. Keeping himself thus concealed,
Sextus waited until Caesar and most of his forces returned to Italy (in the
fall of 45 BCE) and then began gathering together those of his father’s par-
tisans, both natives and Romans, who still had some fight left in them.
Moving back into Rome’s provincial territory, he challenged the author-
ity of Caesar’s governor, Asinius Pollio, who fled, leaving his soldiers to
surrender to Sextus (in fairness, they believed their commander had died
in battle).
By the time of Caesar’s assassination in March 44 BCE, Sextus had gained
effective control of most of southern Spain, thanks, in part, to the lacklus-
ter efforts to stop him on the part of Caesar’s commanders in the region.
In the aftermath of the assassination, when a number of senators, including
Pompey’s old friend Cicero, felt threatened with possible retaliation, either
for participating in the murder or praising it (which Cicero had done), they
considered seeking refuge with Sextus. At the same time, however, they
dreaded continued civil war at his instigation. Things turned out differently
than expected, however, thanks to M. Aemilius Lepidus, one of the dicta-
tor’s closest associates. In the summer of 44 BCE, he assumed the governor-
ship of Nearer Spain (roughly eastern Spain); Sextus must have assumed
more fighting was in store. Instead, Lepidus offered to arrange an amnesty
745
for Pompey’s son so that he could return home to his ancestral estates; he
even convinced Marc Antony, Caesar’s other top lieutenant, to join in mak-
ing this happen.
The ever-cautious Sextus stayed safely in southern France until he could
better gauge the true situation. Still, members of the Senate expressed de-
light, relieved to see the family of Pompey restored without further blood-
shed. Peace did not last long. The Senate waged war against Antony in the
spring of the following year and turned to Sextus to command the fleet of
the Republic.
All of this incensed Caesar Octavian, however, who harbored an undy-
ing hatred for the son of his “father’s” enemy. As soon as Octavian had the
chance, having assumed command of the Roman army in Italy on the death
of both consuls, he marched on Rome, demanded one consulship for him-
self and arranged the other for his cousin Q. Pedius, who passed a law in the
summer of 43 BCE against the murderers of Caesar. Falsely labeled as one of
the latter, Sextus now had a price on his head.
With the establishment in the fall of that year of the Second Triumvirate,
the board of three commissioners (i.e., Octavian, Marc Antony, and Lepi-
dus) for “restoring the Republic,” Sextus Pompeius struck back, for the
sake of himself and other Romans targeted for destruction. He still com-
manded a formidable military force and had augmented his fleet of war-
ships. With these, he worked to rescue citizens who had been condemned
in the Triumvirs’ proscriptions (many chose to seek refuge with him), kept
the Triumvirs’ fleet busy so that it could provide no help in their war against
Brutus and Cassius in Greece (from which he received even more refugees
into his care), and, most importantly, ravaged the islands and seaways of the
Mediterranean, gradually acquiring the island of Sicily (which “legally” fell
under Octavian’s purview) as his main base of operations.
Rome received huge, essential shipments of grain from here and, espe-
cially at a time when nearly 200,000 of the Triumvirs’ demobilized soldiers
had recently retired in Italy, could not afford to have these shipments cut
off by Sextus. He did so, of course, exactly for those reasons. He also inter-
cepted other overseas traffic passing through the western and central Medi-
terranean to Italy. Thus, Sextus created an environment of economic chaos
and famine in the heart of the empire, which precipitated riots and other
forms of urban violence in Rome and other Italian towns.
Octavian faced the task of doing something about the trouble caused
by Pompey’s last surviving son; the efforts of his legates proved unsatisfac-
tory, except for preventing Sextus from actually invading Italy (instead of
just raiding it), which he did try to do. Sextus achieved such notoriety and
maritime power that he referred to himself as the son of Neptune, Roman
god of the sea, probably in mockery of Octavian’s claim to be son of the
divine Julius Caesar.
746
Antony did little to help Octavian solve this crisis and, in fact, did his
best to make it worse. The two of them had fallen out over Octavian’s war
against Antony’s wife, Fulvia, and brother, Lucius Antonius; Octavian not
only defeated and exiled them in 40 BCE, but he also claimed Antony’s Gal-
lic provinces in the process. He also refused to allow Antony to recruit sol-
diers from Italy for his own campaigns, which had been a key feature of the
Triumvirs’ agreements. In retaliation for all this, Antony concluded an al-
liance with Sextus, who had reached out to Antony after giving temporary
refuge to the latter’s wife, Fulvia, and especially to his mother, Julia Anto-
nia, on their way to the East. Among others who also fled to Sextus at this
time were Tib. Claudius Nero, his wife, Livia Drusilla (who would soon
divorce him to marry Octavian), and their little son, the future emperor
Tiberius; the Imperial biographer Suetonius recorded that little Tiberius
received the especially kind attention of Sextus’s sister, Pompeia, widow of
both Faustus Sulla and Cinna the Younger, who had probably joined her
brother in Sicily during the proscriptions of 43.
Together, Sextus and Antony applied naval pressure on Octavian’s forces
in Italy. Antony soon got what he wanted from this (through the so-called
Pact of Brundisium with Octavian and Lepidus) and quickly abandoned
Sextus, but the latter’s continued interference with badly needed supplies
of grain and the resultant and increasing popular unrest generated tremen-
dous grassroots anger toward Octavian and Antony. Quite contrary to their
own wishes, military and popular pressures compelled them to negotiate
with Sextus Pompey. Octavian sent the latter’s mother, Mucia Tertia, to Sic-
ily and agreed to forge a personal alliance with Sextus by marrying Scribo-
nia, the aunt of Sextus’s wife. Further negotiations produced the so-called
Treaty of Misenum of 39 BCE, which restored the exiles and refugees with
Sextus to citizen rights (and some of their confiscated property) as well as
acknowledged legally the command of Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, and south-
ern Greece that Sextus already possessed in fact. In exchange, he agreed to
end his various naval blockades across the Mediterranean, especially those
affecting Italy directly, to guarantee the flow of grain from Sicily, and to
turn his fleet to the service of policing the high seas. To seal the deal, Sex-
tus very generously hosted a magnificent banquet for Octavian and Antony
on board his flagship. One of his admirals, Menas, suggested that he seize
control of the empire by murdering his guests; Sextus refused, insisting that
he must stay true to his promise of peace. The “pirate” had become a legiti-
mate partner of the Triumvirs in their administration of the empire.
Octavian, with his boundless ambition to rule the empire and his
wounded sense of honor, had no intention of allowing such things to stand,
however. He looked immediately for ways to discredit Sextus and to seize
territory (e.g., Sardinia) from him. He was nothing if not a master of pro-
paganda and managed to present Sextus as the bad guy, even though all the
747
legitimate grievances were on the latter’s side. Octavian divorced Sextus’s

aunt to widen the breach between them.
Antony, of course, had his hands full with wars against the Parthians
(cousins of the Persians who then ruled most of the Middle East) and his
relationship with Cleopatra of Egypt, while Lepidus held his province of
Africa really only at the discretion of Octavian. Therefore, when the lat-
ter set out to destroy Sextus Pompey, there was no one in the way to stop
him. In fact, in the spring of 37 BCE, Octavian (really his sister, Octavia,
Antony’s new wife) persuaded Antony to provide 120 ships against Sex-
tus in exchange for two legions of soldiers (this was the so-called Pact of
Tarentum). Lepidus was also reluctantly convinced to join the fight with
his sixteen legions.
A year later, M. Vipsanius Agrippa, the mastermind behind most of Octa-
vian’s military successes, attacked the island of Sicily with a brand new fleet
of specially designed warships. A major naval battle ensued off the northern
coast of Sicily, between Mylae and Naulochus, lasting from dawn to dusk;
Agrippa’s force had the better of it. Yet, one of Sextus’s admirals almost
captured Octavian during a landing mission and, later, Sextus almost did
so himself; Octavian’s ground troops, abandoned by him, struggled against
those of Sextus for three days until rescued by Agrippa. Octavian then re-
turned to Sicily to confront Sextus in a number of skirmishes; Lepidus fi-
nally joined him, though hedging his bets by maintaining secret contact
with Sextus. The latter then took to sea for one last-ditch naval battle—
again a defeat. His soldiers fled for refuge to Messana (modern Messina),
which Lepidus then seized (and soon surrendered to Octavian), while Sex-
tus himself escaped by ship.
Having made it to Greece with several ships, he dispersed them for their
own safety and sailed further eastward to make contact with Antony. On
the Greek island of Lesbos, he learned about the latter’s recent defeat at the
hands of the Parthians and decided to take this opportunity to seize Anto-
ny’s portion of the empire; he even opened negotiations with the Parthians
himself. Antony responded by sending a fleet against Sextus. The latter fled
into Phrygia (modern western Turkey), where one of Antony’s lieuten-
ants captured and executed him, on the Triumvir’s orders, in 35 BCE. The
thrilled Octavian held games in honor of the event back in Rome.
The downfall of Sextus Pompey almost immediately precipitated the
downfall of Lepidus also (whom Octavian, the victor, forced into retire-
ment) and left Antony with only Cleopatra as a powerful ally to stand
against Octavian’s ambition to be sole ruler of the empire. The balance
of power within the Roman world had significantly shifted in Octavian’s
favor, and Antony had contributed to this turn of events by not support-
ing Sextus.
748
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Asinius Pollio (76
BCE–4 CE); Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE); Libya/Numidia; Mediterra-
nean Sea; Munda, Battle of (45 BCE); Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE);
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Spain
Further Reading
Routledge.
Clarendon Press.
Press.
sity Press.
Ltd.
inger Publishing.
York: Doubleday.
nesota Press.
Lintott, A. W. 1968. Violence in Republican Rome. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
Press.
749

University Press.
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar (Original Play

and Film Versions 1953, 1970)
The movement which we call the Renaissance, the literary and artistic re-
vival of interest in the culture of classical times, spread from Italy through
northern Europe during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries CE; as it did
so, famous personalities, events, and themes from the Greco-Roman world
found themselves incorporated into brand new creative projects. Among
these were the plays of the greatest of all English writers, William Shake-
speare (1564–1616), who had a fascination for Roman history and a special
interest in the life and death of the Roman dictator, Julius Caesar, which
he explored through a play by that name. In the twentieth century, two
star-studded, major motion pictures, one in 1953 (from MGM, directed
and adapted by Joseph L. Mankiewicz) and the other in 1970 (distributed
The assassination of Julius Caesar, as depicted in the movie, Julius Caesar (1970),
with Richard Johnson as Cassius, John Gielgud as Julius Caesar, and Jason Robards as
Brutus. (Photofest)
750
by American International Pictures, directed by Stuart Burge, adapted by

Robert Furnival), brought Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar pretty faithfully to
audiences of the big screen.
Shakespeare set the majority of his play in the year 44 BCE, during the last
days of Caesar’s life and the aftermath of his assassination. Indeed, the start-
ing date must be the Lupercalia festival in February, 44, since we see Caesar
(played by Louis Calhern in 1953 and John Gielgud in 1970), and his wife
Calpurnia (played by Greer Garson and by Jill Bennett, respectively) in at-
tendance there, as well as the character of Marc Antony (played by Marlon
Brando and by Charlton Heston, respectively) participating in the famous
run of the Lupercal. Yet, the playwright mixes this event together with
Caesar’s triumphal procession in the streets of Rome; Caesar, in fact, held
multiple parades in honor of his victories, but the last of them had taken
place in the fall of 45 BCE, months before the Lupercalia. Shakespeare also
places the famous warning of the augur Spurinna (unnamed in the play and
presented as a stranger to Caesar, when he actually knew him), “Beware
the Ides of March,” in the context of this festival. Still, the playwright ac-
curately conveys Caesar’s skepticism about such things when he has him
remark, “He [the soothsayer] is a dreamer.” Also present in another part of
the action are Cassius (played by John Gielgud in 1953 and Richard John-
son in 1970) and other critics of Caesar, who take the opportunity to scold
the crowds of drunk, dirty, everyday Romans for so easily forgetting their
former favorite, Pompey. The whole scene must have pleased the so-called
groundlings, the spectators who sat on the floor of London’s Globe The-
ater to watch Shakespeare’s productions; they always enjoyed scenes of fri-
volity, action, exotic imagery, and, of course, rude confrontations between
the poor and the powerful.
As the characters of Cassius and Brutus (played by James Mason and
Jason Robards, respectively) separate themselves slightly from all the festivi-
ties, the former makes known to the latter how the most respected citizens
of Rome await his action against Caesar. Shakespeare expertly captures Bru-
tus’s dilemma: he is not afraid of Caesar’s power and does not regard him,
as others seem bent on doing, as a king or a god, but he still loves him as a
friend and father figure and does not see in himself the capacity to eliminate
Caesar. The character of Cassius also captures what we know of his person-
ality from the ancient sources: he is angry at and humiliated by Caesar “the
tyrant,” who is, after all, only a weak man, a victim of epilepsy (“the falling
sickness”); “bestriding the known world like a colossus,” Caesar makes the
rest of the Senate appear puny, dishonorable men, who cannot even find
death except by his assistance. When Cassius declares that Caesar’s power
is their fault, their “slavery” under him their responsibility rather than that
“of the stars,” he is again echoing the ancient texts, who recorded that Cas-
sius followed Epicureanism, a philosophy that placed all aspects of human
751
life in our hands since it denied astrology and the involvement of gods in
our world.
The following scene takes us back to the Lupercalia and a conversation be-
tween Caesar and Antony, as the former observes Cassius and Brutus observ-
ing him. Again, Shakespeare shows that he is a good classicist when he has
Caesar describe his critics as “lean and hungry” and his own preference for
associates who are “fat and sleek.” The historical Caesar said similar words
in defense of Antony, in fact, calling him “fat and long-haired,” and, there-
fore, in Caesar’s estimation, harmless (since he evidently had all the creature
comforts he needed); on the other hand, he worried about “pale and thin”
people (those who always sought more or better), but never named names,
as his character does in the play. The further criticism Shakespeare’s Caesar
levels at Cassius and Brutus, that they think too much, and especially that
Cassius is too clear-sighted and serious, would not have resonated in the real
Caesar’s time, since he himself would have been similarly described.
CAESAR IN PRISON
Two recent productions, one theatrical and the other film, reveal the
continuing resonance of Caesar’s life story, especially of his demise
and the plot to bring him down, in understanding the dark side of
today’s world. In 2011, Italian directors Paolo and Vittorio Taviani
released a motion picture titled, Caesar Must Die. The action takes
place entirely inside Rebibbia Prison, a real detention facility located
outside the modern city of Rome; the “actors,” only a handful of
them, are actual inmates and ex-convicts, with no backdrops to hide
the stark setting of their “home” and few props. Though inspired
by Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, the film’s directors and screenwriter
(Fabio Cavalli) have developed their own creation, combining highly
adapted elements of Shakespeare’s play with the real-life criminal ex-
periences of their “actors”; they even fold into the presentation their
auditions, rehearsals, and everyday activities within the prison. Over-
all, the message is about the psychology and the interactions of men
engaged in heinous murder.
Similarly, in the fall of 2013, British theater director Phyllida Lloyd
staged a theatrical production titled, Julius Caesar, for audiences in
Brooklyn, New York. The story, again, involves inmates in a prison—
only these were real actors, all of them women. Another loose ad-
aptation of Shakespeare’s original, the focus is on the psychology of
power-hunger, competition, jealousy, humiliation, and vengeance, but
the director and her players are also keen to strip away the veneer of civ-
ilized males to reveal the horrors inside, perhaps only visible to women.
752
Cassius and Brutus next meet Casca (surprisingly called “gentle,” con-
sidering that was not at all his reputation in ancient times) who informs
them about the historical event of the offers of kingship made to Caesar
during the festival and his rejection of them three times; Casca even reports
accurately on Caesar’s insulting behavior toward the crowd, his blaming of
this on his epilepsy, and his poor treatment of two plebeian tribunes who
tried to prevent royal honors from being conferred upon Caesar’s statues.
Ancient sources do not record this conversation taking place among the
three men, but in the context of the play, all of this reinforces Cassius’s re-
solve to act against Caesar and pushes Brutus in the same direction.
The rain storm that follows signals the displeasure of the heavens, of the
gods, with Caesar’s tyranny and the imminence of his demise. This conveys
some of the doomsday omens reported by our sources. Cassius further in-
stigates Brutus by having Caesar’s own brother-in-law, Cinna the Younger,
distribute inflammatory messages and pamphlets calling upon Brutus to
live up to the memory of his ancestors, who had rid early Rome of kings.
The historical Brutus did receive such encouragements, but no one ever
identified from whom they came, and Cinna the Younger did not partici-
pate in the Conspiracy of the Liberators, so far as we know, though he did
praise it afterward.
Then comes the ominous night before the Ides of March. Brutus, at
home, and finally “awake” (many of the ancient messages he received did
call him to wake from his sleep, in a figurative sense), begs the spirit of his
city to speak to him and tell him what course to take, a very Roman thing
to do. Upon the arrival of his co-conspirators (some of them properly iden-
tified with their historical counterparts and others not), they speak of their
allegiance to Brutus, who, like the sun itself, provides them with light in
their political darkness, and swear oaths to one another of total devotion in
their enterprise. When Cassius and Decius (who should be Decimus) urge
the assassination also of Antony (which some of the Conspirators did call
for), Brutus rejects the notion (which he really did) as an act of butchery,
whereas they were engaged in a pure sacrifice: only the tyrant must die. In-
deed, Brutus goes on to say that if they could simply destroy Caesar’s spirit
(his evil genius as Romans would have conceived of it) and leave his body
unharmed, he would favor this instead.
In the aftermath of this conference, Shakespeare presents two impor-
tant female characters. “Portia” (i.e., Porcia), the wife of Brutus (played
by Deborah Kerr and by Diana Rigg, respectively), begs him to tell her
everything he is plotting and promises that she has the strength to handle
the knowledge and the dangers ahead; this echoes the behavior of the real
Porcia, who, in fact, inflicted upon herself a stab wound to prove to her
husband the fortitude she possessed and thus convinced him to be allowed
into all the secrets of the Conspiracy. Meanwhile, Calpurnia, wife of Caesar,
displays her terrible fears for his life, brought on by horrifying nightmares;
753
though the historical Calpurnia did have such experiences, they do not
match the ones invented by Shakespeare for this scene. Still, he gets right
Caesar’s reluctance to avoid a meeting of the Senate just because of such ill
omens, his attitude toward cowardice, and his philosophical bent regarding
death. The arrival of “Decius” (again, it was actually Decimus) and his re-
interpretation of Calpurnia’s dreams ends any hesitation on Caesar’s part,
who presses on to the Senate surrounded by the members of the Conspir-
acy, even though most of them would actually have been awaiting his ar-
rival there.
Once outside the Senate, the character of Caesar overconfidently dis-
misses the soothsayer again regarding the dangers of the Ides of March,
while the Conspirators fear that a senator called Popilius will tip their hand
to Caesar. Trebonius next delays Antony outside; meanwhile, the Conspira-
tors surround Caesar inside, using the petition of Cimber as their pretext
for approaching him closely, and as he denies the petition repeatedly (“as
constant as the Northern Star”), they attack and stab him to death, with
Brutus delivering the most emotionally hurtful blow (and Caesar delivering
the famous line, Et tu, Brute!).
Up to this point, the scene brings the ancient evidence to light fairly ac-
curately; afterward, Shakespeare begins to exercise his artistic license more
loosely. The Conspirators bathe their hands in Caesar’s blood and rumi-
nate on the act of murder, especially tyrannicide, and the resonance of their
deed throughout future generations. This likely reflects ideas and feelings
from the violent history of England in Shakespeare’s own time. Next, Marc
Antony enters the room, offers up his own life, and then makes his peace
with the assassins, shaking them by the hand. In fact, Antony fled the city
and did not meet the Conspirators for two days afterward, and, by then, he,
not they, had the upper hand. In the scene, when they leave Antony speak-
ing over Caesar’s corpse, he not only curses civil war but also calls upon the
vengeful spirit of Caesar to “cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.” Again,
this stretches historical reality to meet the sensibilities of Shakespeare’s con-
temporary audience; Antony, indeed, did everything he could to prevent
further strife and displayed no desire at all for vengeance.
The following scenes are probably the most famous of the play, as first
Brutus and then Antony deliver speeches at the funeral of Caesar. The for-
mer speaks of his affection for Caesar and of his greater love for Rome, how
slavery under a tyrant had to end, and ambition give way to true honor.
The historical Brutus did not address the crowds at Caesar’s funeral, but
he had done so on the days previously, and Shakespeare’s words do con-
vey the tenor of Brutus’s mentality at the time. Antony’s speech, “Friends,
Romans, Countrymen,” basically exaggerates the simpler eulogy he actu-
ally delivered (Shakespeare nods to this when he has Antony call himself a
“plain, blunt man”) and, instead, beautifully takes to task Brutus’s praise
754
of honor as a hollow justification for the treacherous slaying of a benefac-

tor, populist, and hero. What really mattered (and Shakespeare does make
good use of this in his scene) was Antony’s theatrical display of Caesar’s
body and clothing and his reading of Caesar’s will. This set the crowds in
motion against the Conspirators so that Antony could become the “first
man” in Rome.
The playwright strays farthest from historical reality in his portrayal of
the Second Triumvirate, the coalition of Marc Antony with Caesar’s other
lieutenant, Lepidus, and Caesar’s adopted son, Octavian (played by Dou-
glass Watson and Richard Chamberlain, respectively). Antony is wrongly
portrayed as favoring Octavian and hostile to Lepidus, when the truth was
exactly the opposite. Octavian is also portrayed inaccurately, as friendly to
Antony and physically fit (when, in reality, he resented Antony and was a
sickly young man at the time).
Shakespeare’s story concludes with the two battles of Philippi in Greece,
the engagements that sealed the fate of the Conspirators and ushered in
a new age of Roman history. He focuses on the relations between Brutus
and Cassius, the former quite pleased with himself, almost Caesar-esque,
and eager to ride the tide against the forces of Antony and Octavian, the
latter, more cautious and stressed out. The parley between the two sets of
commanders before the first battle smacks of Medieval or Renaissance be-
havior, the typical taunting and exchange of insulting barbs. The suicides
of Cassius and Brutus, following their military defeats (the complex details
highly simplified in the play), and the reflections upon them by the char-
acters gathered around do convey the praises found in our ancient sources
that Cassius was “the last of all the Romans” and Brutus was “the noblest
of men.”
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar reveals the playwright’s knowledge of and
close attention to the primary sources; clearly, his greatest inspiration came
from the biography of Caesar by the Greek philosopher Plutarch, who took
his story past Caesar’s death to the death of Brutus after Philippi. Yet, the
play does not give us much of Caesar’s life story, despite its title. Instead,
the true emphasis is on the psychology of civil strife and the murder of
one’s leader, as well as the assertion of certain intangibles, like “liberty” and
“honor.” The tragic struggles the reader or audience witnesses are within
Brutus and Cassius, not Caesar, or really any of the other characters on dis-
play. A remarkably faithful rendition of events in ancient Rome, Julius Cae-
sar still perhaps suggests more about the troubles and fears in Shakespeare’s
own time and place, and beyond.
BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE);
Eulogies/Imagines; Ides of March; Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE);
755
Siegecraft
Mourning/Funerals; Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Omens; Plutar-

ch’s Lives; Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)
Further Reading
Bullough, G. 1957–1975. Narrative and Dramatic Sources of Shakespeare. 8 Vols.
London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.
“Julius Caesar.” Catalog of the American Film Institute Website. http://www.afi
.com/catalog. Accessed February 27, 2014.
“Julius Caesar.” Internet Movie Database Website. http://www.imdb.com. Ac-
cessed February 27, 2014.
Shakespeare, W. 2000. Julius Caesar, edited by W. Montgomery. New York: Pen-
guin Publishing.
Ships. See Navy/Ships

Siegecraft
Repeatedly in the writings of Julius Caesar himself, he devotes time and
attention to siege operations. These factored significantly in the wars he
waged in Gaul (roughly modern France and Belgium), as well as in the Civil
War between himself and his rivals from Rome. For the purposes of his ac-
counts of these conflicts, descriptions of sieges gave Caesar the opportunity
to comment on the behavior of soldiers in warfare, especially their motiva-
tions for fighting, both intangible and tangible. In the midst of such reflec-
tions, he provides details of the operations themselves, which reveal how
siegecraft had developed in the Roman world up to his time and how criti-
cal it had become to winning wars.
The Romans learned about the technology to be employed in sieges
from the Greeks; the Greeks themselves had learned the foundational
techniques from the much older cultures of the Middle East, who had
been engaged in siege warfare among one another for many centuries
before. One need only recall the Assyrian siege of Jerusalem back in the
eighth century BCE. Even in those days one would have seen the still-
familiar siege towers for the protected approach of opposing troops to-
ward a besieged city, sappers digging to undermine the city’s walls, scaling
ladders for climbing up those walls, archers and slingers attempting to
push back the defenders along the tops of those walls, and battering rams
stoutly constructed of wood and metal strong enough to break through
the city’s walls and gates.
756
Siegecraft
Roman forces under Titurius Sabinus, one of Julius Caesar’s lieutenants during the
Gallic Wars, besieged by Ambiorix, 54 BCE. (Tarker/Corbis)
In the early fourth century BCE, the Greeks of Sicily (specifically those of the
important city of Syracuse) added to this arsenal by developing new machinery
for siegecraft, including catapults. Not long afterward, such devices received
special attention and careful modification from the engineers commissioned
by the king of Macedon (roughly today’s northern Greece and southern Bul-
garia), Philip II, father of the famous Alexander the Great. Father and son
truly took siegecraft to a new level in the second half of the fourth century BCE
and bequeathed the legacy of their techniques and their technologies (includ-
ing torsion-driven artillery pieces, such as “scorpions,” to shoot bolts of metal
or launch large stones) to generations of military leaders after them, both Hel-
lenistic Greek and Roman, right through to the time of Caesar.
In addition to the examples of Roman generals from the distant past who
had engaged in siegecraft, Caesar himself had more immediate models to
follow, men not much older than he. For instance, his associate and later
adversary, Pompey, had such experience. Even better known for his suc-
cessful sieges was L. Licinius Lucullus, who had employed such techniques
as a matter of policy and strategy against foreign enemies from Asia Minor
(modern Turkey) to Armenia. Caesar’s armies surpassed those of both of
these contemporaries in terms of the frequency in which they engaged in
siegecraft and their mastery of it.
Caesar’s military campaigns in Gaul often required siegecraft, since the
Gallic tribes who resisted Roman domination repeatedly relied upon their
757
Siegecraft
PUNY ROMANS VERSUS GAULS

During his campaign to quash the rebellion of the Belgae in north-
eastern Gaul, Julius Caesar laid siege to the principal citadel of the
Aduatuci tribe. The warriors of that tribe mercilessly mocked the
Roman soldiers outside as the latter constructed their siege mound
and artillery tower. As far as the Gauls were concerned, the Romans
were short little dwarfs who could never successfully engineer a siege
against such large men as themselves. The rapidity and obvious skill of
the Romans, however, soon taught the Aduatuci that stature did not
necessarily matter at all in warfare.
hill forts (oppida in Latin) as places of refuge from the Roman army. Tradi-
tionally, the Gallic people constructed their population centers on hilltops
and fortified them further with stone walls and wooden palisades; even to
approach the base of such hill forts required crossing over deep and wide
ditches, and even moats, an added level of protection.
Caesar’s first experience of laying siege to one of these oppida came in 57
BCE, during the uprising of the Belgae, a collection of tribes inhabiting the
northeastern portion of Gaul. The residents in one of their principal towns,
Noviodunum, refused to admit Caesar, despite not having a garrison of
warriors there to protect them. They relied, instead, on the established de-
fenses of their oppidum, a very wide ditch and a very high wall. Caesar de-
termined to set up a siege camp, from which the Romans built up a siege
mound, that is, a manmade hill of great height atop which they placed their
artillery machines; he also had wooden sheds constructed, protected by
which his men would work to dig trenches toward and under the walls of
Noviodunum.
Just the sight of all these threatening activities, engaged in so rapidly by
Caesar’s skilled soldiers, was enough to convince the people of the town to
surrender without a fight. Something similar took place during the same
campaigning season when the Aduatuci tribe, one of the Belgic peoples,
also attempted to resist Caesar’s advance within one of their hill forts. This
place was said to be approachable only by one slope and otherwise sat pro-
tected by a ring of sheer rocky cliffs. The Romans, undaunted, set to work
with their standard siege operations, the Gauls all the while laughing at
them for the time and effort put into something that could never succeed
against them. They especially wondered at the Roman siege tower; consist-
ing of superimposed platforms of wood, reinforced by metal and leather
coverings, each “floor” of the tower held an artillery piece. Nonetheless,
758
Siegecraft
the Aduatuci did not believe such a device could cause them any harm, that
is, until they witnessed it rolling on wheels in the direction of their walls.
Astonished and frightened, they sued for peace.
For all their amazement at Roman techniques and speed, even the Gal-
lic tribes against whom Caesar fought, populations characterized by the
Romans as “barbarians,” themselves employed siegecraft. For example, in
57 BCE, the Belgic resistance forces marched against the walled town of
Bibrax, attempting to capture it before the Romans could reinforce the
allies they had there. The Belgic warriors surrounded the town to impose
a blockade and, from all directions, hurled a large barrage of stones and
spears over the town’s walls to scare off or kill its defenders. Then, in a
fashion similar to the Roman “tortoise,” the attackers held their shields
over them and marched together in lockstep, protecting their heads from
injury as they moved forward against the walls and tried to set fire to the
town’s gates.
As Caesar notes in his own account of this event, all the Gallic tribes
utilized the same methods as those engaged in by the Belgic force on this
occasion. Elsewhere, he comments on the fact that the widespread Gallic
tradition of mining for precious metals, copper, and iron gave many tribes
great skill in one of the most fundamental methods of siegecraft.
A few years later, repeated experience of Roman methods of siegecraft
(as well a knowledge gained from Roman prisoners of war) melded with
the Gauls’ own skills in the Nervian siege of a Roman camp under the
command of Q. Tullius Cicero, brother of the famous orator. One of the
strongest of the Belgic tribes, the Nervii did just as the Romans would have
done, digging a fifteen-foot-wide ditch all around the fort and heaping up
the dirt outside to form a barrier of earthwork about nine feet tall. It took
them only three hours to complete this effort along a circumference of
three miles, again, rapid as Romans. They followed this up with the prepa-
ration of battering sheds, siege-towers, and grappling hooks. On the sev-
enth day of the siege, the Nervii opened fire, literally, on Cicero’s position
by slinging white hot balls of clay and red hot spear points over the Roman
walls and onto the thatched roofs of the huts inside. There ensued a fierce
assault with the towers and scaling ladders, met by an equally bitter resis-
tance. After days of this, relief came to Cicero, thanks to the arrival of Cae-
sar and a strong force. The Nervii pulled away to engage Caesar directly;
they had carried on a masterful siege, even if not completed.
Indeed, three major sieges marked the close of the wars in Gaul in 52
BCE, those of Avaricum (besieged for twenty-seven days until captured with
great slaughter by Caesar’s army), Gergovia (rescued by the Gallic war-
lord Vercingetorix when Caesar abandoned the siege due to insufficient
manpower and discipline among his forces), and, most famously, Alesia (in
which Caesar’s double circumvallation and other ingenious innovations not
759
Slavery/Slaves
only led to Roman victory over the hill fort but also led to the defeat of
Gallic reinforcements outside).
During the Gallic Wars, as well as the Civil War among the Romans
themselves that followed close on its heels, Roman military engineers and
soldiers engaged in atypical methods of siegecraft. For example, both in be-
sieging Gallic resisters along the Atlantic coast and in attempting to prevent
Roman adversaries from escaping from the port of Brundisium (modern
Brindisi) in southern Italy, Caesar’s men laid siege not only by land but also
by sea. They sunk timber, stone, and earth far out from shore in the con-
struction of breakwaters and moles, atop which they even erected full-scale
walls in some cases.
Caesar’s soldiers became past masters of siegecraft, surviving firing raids,
wounds from artillery projectiles, falls and jumps from enemy walls, all the
while covered in the soil of many countries. Some of them must have had
a decade and a half of experience in all this. Besides what they might have
learned during the campaigns in Gaul, where so many encounters with the
enemy consisted of sieges, even in the Civil War, especially in western Greece,
Egypt, and North Africa, those who served with Caesar found themselves
over and over again surrounded and under siege by their opponents. If they
were to endure and emerge victorious, they had little choice but to become
the greatest experts at siege warfare that Rome had ever produced.
See also: Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE); Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE); Alex-
andrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring 47 BCE); Arms and Armor; Army; Belgae; Ci-
cero, Quintus (102–43 BCE); Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE); Dyrrachium, Siege
of (48 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Massilia, Siege of
(49 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Marsden, E. W. 1969. Greek and Roman Artillery: Historical Development. Ox-
Slavery/Slaves
Slavery was a centuries-old institution in Roman society by the time of Ju-
lius Caesar, dating back into the mists of their earliest history, as was the
760
Slavery/Slaves
Illustration after an image on a

bronze pot found at Pompeii
depicting punishment of a slave
by whipping (with a flagellum of
twined rope). (Duruy, Victor,
History of Rome and of the
Roman People, Vol. 22, 1884)
case in all the societies of the ancient Mediterranean world. Though not
true earlier, certainly by the first century BCE, the Roman economy and
social structure had come to depend heavily on slaves (servi); in fact, the
world as Caesar knew it would have collapsed without slave labor.
In Caesar’s day, somewhere between 100,000 and 300,000 slaves lived
in the city of Rome alone (as estimated by modern scholarship). Unlike the
Greeks, many of whom considered other cultures besides theirs as barbaric
and hence other peoples as naturally suited for enslavement, no such preju-
dice permeated Roman culture in general. Instead, most Romans tended
to view slaves as persons at the short end of the stick, who had experienced
bad fortune, failure, or defeat. This sort of thinking went back to the most
ancient set of Roman laws, the Twelve Tables of the mid-fifth century BCE,
which already contained regulations regarding slaves.
Various things led to enslavement. Among Romans themselves, severe
financial indebtedness to a creditor might permit him or her to enslave the
debtor; legal debt-slavery (nexum) forced the debtor to pay off his or her
obligation by working as a slave would do for a master, though with certain
protections under the law, since the debtor was still a Roman citizen. Even
though this custom had been technically ended through legislation in the
761
Slavery/Slaves
fourth century BCE, evidence indicates its continuation in later generations,

only with much less frequency.
One factor that contributed to the easing up on debt-slavery was the in-
crease in the number of slaves brought into Rome through conquest. As
the Roman armies expanded an empire across the Mediterranean region,
they captured hundreds of thousands of prisoners in the third, second, and
first centuries BCE; instead of killing off these prisoners of war or ransoming
them back to their homelands, they poured them into Italy as slaves. This
tradition of salvaging prisoners as slaves went back very far in Rome’s past,
to the wars between Rome and its various neighbors in Italy, and it had al-
ways been the major source of slave labor. Caesar alone, during his decade
of campaigning in Gaul (roughly modern France, Belgium, and southwest-
ern Holland), captured hundreds of thousands of prisoners and either kept
them for himself and his soldiers (reportedly making a habit of giving each
man at least one new slave on a frequent basis) or sold them off (back in
the slave markets of Italy or in those of Gaul itself). Some even said that his
invasion of Britain was motivated by his desire to procure natives, known
for their physical build and skills, as slaves.
Regular warfare was not the only source of slaves for the demanding
Roman market. There were also pirates, most famously those who operated
out of Cilicia (modern southeast Turkey), who, in fact, trafficked mainly in
slaves, often the victims of raids on coastal towns or other acts of kidnap-
ping. They brought such captives to the little Greek island of Delos in the
south Aegean Sea, where, ancient sources tell us, 10,000 slaves might be
sold on a single day. Many of these ended up in the hands of Roman owners.
The huge numbers of slaves from the overseas wars changed the nature
of Roman slavery significantly. In the past, Roman individuals and families
had owned relatively few slaves; these normally worked side by side with
their masters, earning a share of the profits from their labor, and were freed
(manumitted) after a time on a generous basis, becoming legal citizens
of Rome themselves. Such slaves were regarded as part of the familia or
household. Thanks to the enormous influx of prisoners of war from over-
seas, though, the price of slaves dropped dramatically, making it possible to
purchase many more than ever before and to treat more of them as expend-
able objects.
Not only had slavery become more affordable for many, but it also be-
came much more profitable. Wealthy owners of large estates (latifundia)
began to buy whole gangs of slaves to do backbreaking work, such as rais-
ing great herds of cattle or cultivating gigantic orchards and vineyards. By
the middle of the second century BCE, such landowners even had how-to
manuals to follow on how to treat their slave gangs; a famous handbook by
Cato the Elder vividly reveals how plentiful slaves could be ruthlessly mis-
treated. Not only was there a seemingly never-ending supply of such cheap
762
Slavery/Slaves
labor, but, unlike free workers, slaves did not have to serve in the Roman
army and hence could work continuously until they died or grew too ill.
Few farm slaves were ever manumitted in the last centuries of the Republic.
In other words, slaves laboring in the countryside were rarely regarded
as part of the family, in any compassionate sense but only as part of the
family property, more like cattle or farm implements. In the cities of Italy,
especially in Rome itself, slaves had a better chance of receiving the old-
style treatment as members of the familia; even here, though, their large
numbers often made them disposable “commodities” and they were often
open to greater indignities, such as being forced to serve their masters and
mistresses as sex objects, often under terrible physical abuse. Regardless of
whether in an urban setting or a rural setting, slaves were not Roman citi-
zens, so they could be tortured under the law and executed in the most
cruel and public ways, such as by crucifixion.
One major difference between the cities and the countryside was that in
the cities, in addition to the slaves owned privately and by the government,
there lived tens of thousands of freed slaves (liberti). In the Late Republic,
manumission of slaves in the city was profitable. Freed slaves there, espe-
cially educated and well-trained ones, remained tied to their former masters
as political and social clients (in the Roman sense of “dependant” or “sup-
porter”) and, as citizens, the freedmen had the right to vote in the Popular
Assemblies, doing so usually in the interests of former masters. Technically,
freedmen could not stand for office nor enter the Senate; their sons could,
however, even though pressures from the ruling class, which sought to
maintain the government within its closed club, made that nearly impos-
sible. Furthermore, among the eligible recipients of the grain dole (insti-
tuted in the last century of the Republic to reduce the dangers of famine in
Rome) were many freed slaves; thus, a master might manumit his slave sim-
ply so the state would pick up some of his or her former economic burden
in caring for the slave, and the former master still received benefits from the
freed person.
As the number of slaves and freedpersons grew in Roman Italy, so too
did the prejudices against them. Part of this was probably fueled by the
reading of Greek texts at all levels of Roman society, with their “us versus
them” mentality, their stark dichotomy between “slave people” and “free
people.” Part of it was also certainly generated by the rising animosity to-
ward slaves for “stealing” Roman jobs. After all, in the countryside, use of
slave labor put many free workers out of business and the big plantations,
with their slave gangs, swallowed up family farms. In the cities, educated
slaves and freedpersons from Greece and the Near East assumed many pro-
fessional jobs, such as teachers and physicians, and many service positions,
such as cooks and nannies; hundreds of highly skilled slaves and freed-
men staffed the branch offices of Roman companies, especially those of the
763
Slavery/Slaves
far-flung tax-collecting publicans across the empire. Many freedpersons be-

came merchants, tavern-keepers, and moneylenders themselves.
For the well off, especially for wealthy Roman women, the availabil-
ity of slaves and freedpersons to take over so many daily tasks made life
much easier and freed up more time in public for them to engage in non-
traditional pursuits (despite the objections of traditional men); upper-class
Roman men relied on the expertise and the loyalty of their slaves and freed-
men, who served as their eyes and ears, special agents, secretaries, and
even advisors, whether at home or abroad. Caesar went even further than
other aristocrats in this regard, entrusting his slaves with responsibilities of
state, such as those he placed in charge of the mint that produced the of-
ficial Roman coinage. Indeed, in the Late Republic, a slave might be called
upon to perform the ultimate act of devotion for his or her mistress or
master: to help them engage in suicide to avoid dishonor by a political or
military rival.
Slaves also served as “labor-saving devices” for soldiers, who regularly
brought their slaves with them into combat zones to cook, clean armor,
mend uniforms, take care of horses, and so on. Many slaves took advantage
of wartime conditions to escape. In 58 BCE, for instance, a large number of
soldiers’ slaves deserted to the enemies of Caesar, the Helvetii in southern
Gaul, for the sake of their freedom; Caesar demanded return of the fugitive
slaves as part of his terms for peace with that tribe.
Even though other Roman commoners, men and women, had a few
slaves, when they could afford them, nevertheless, for most Romans, slaves
and freedpersons had become competitors in the already-difficult game of
survival, and even wealthy men feared the urban slaves, foreseeing the pos-
sibility that one of their own would raise them up into a militant force for
use against the Republic; Caesar’s own father-in-law, L. Cornelius Cinna,
was accused of instigating the slaves to revolt, and certainly other politicians
of his lifetime, such as Catiline, Clodius, and Crassus, utilized their slaves
and those of their allies for nefarious purposes.
“CAESAR” IN THE PLANET OF THE APES

The fictional character of Caesar (originally, the child of Cornelius
and Zira left behind on a pre-catastrophe Earth, his parentage and
storyline significantly modified in more recent story-lines) appears in
a number of the Planet of the Apes films. In either incarnation, he
serves not only as a leader among his kind, rescuing them from en-
slavement or experimentation, but also as a bridge-builder between
apes and humans. Certainly, the rebel warrior/merciful ruler images
hearken back to Julius Caesar.
764
Slavery/Slaves
A greater danger, however, came from slave rebellion on a massive scale,

produced by the ruthless exploitation of slave labor. Thirty-five years before
the birth of Caesar, tens of thousands of slaves, most from Greece and the
Near East, rose up against their cruel masters and took on the unprepared
and poorly trained Roman forces on the island of Sicily, which was notori-
ous for its plantations. Over the course of three years or so, the slaves seized
major cities along the coast and massacred hundreds of slave owners and
their families. Only with difficulty did fresh Roman forces, brought in from
the provincial territories in Spain, defeat the rebels.
Four years before Caesar’s birth, a second uprising erupted on the island;
this time, many of the rebel slaves were victims of kidnapping by pirates in
the eastern Mediterranean; their countrymen back home strenuously pe-
titioned the Roman government for the restoration and freedom of their
friends and loved ones. The Senate did, in fact, issue a decree to all provin-
cial governors to seek out and free such kidnap-victim slaves, but in Sicily,
officials encountered resistance from the wealthy and very influential slave
owners. Slaves there realized that they would have to free themselves; they
went further, however, by not only inciting huge numbers of their fellows
to revolt but also organizing themselves into a sort of democratic move-
ment (they used the term “Heliopolis” or “city of the Sun,” which derived
from various philosophical and political teachings of the time on how to
create a utopian society) to maintain that freedom. The slaves defeated the
local defense forces and reduced the Sicilian towns to starvation by cutting
off the transport of grain within the island. Again, a fresh Roman army
from another territory, in this case the province of Transalpine Gaul (south-
ern France today), was required to suppress this revolt.
Finally, when Caesar was about twenty-seven years old, the famous slave
gladiator, Spartacus, led a massive uprising in the Italian Peninsula itself.
During the Republic, the majority of gladiators in the Roman games were
recently captured prisoners of war, although some said that Spartacus him-
self was not an enemy prisoner but rather a deserter from the Roman aux-
iliaries in Thrace (today’s southeastern Bulgaria and northeastern Greece);
the punishment for desertion among Rome’s non-Roman troops was en-
slavement. Regardless of whether he started out as deserter or prisoner of
war, Spartacus ended his life as the leader of the greatest and most signifi-
cant slave uprising the ancient world ever saw. From a small beginning in
Campania (the region around the Bay of Naples in central Italy), he built
up a slave army of close to 100,000 that kept Roman armies sent against
them on the ropes for close to three years and ransacked Italy from south
to north. His forces consisted not only of the usual slaves from the eastern
Mediterranean but also from Gaul, Germany, and Italy itself, all trained
quickly and effectively by Spartacus and his comrades in the fighting tech-
niques of gladiators. Regardless of the destruction they caused in battling
for their freedom, they did not seek the total destruction of their former
765
Spain
masters or the creation of a utopia for themselves. Indeed, they seemed to

have many competing goals, primary among them the desire to escape the
grasp of Rome. Once again, their defeat came at the hands of a special army,
which was funded and commanded by M. Licinius Crassus, the richest man
in Rome at the time.
Hundreds of thousands of slaves, soldiers, and civilians died in these
three slave wars between 135 and 71 BCE; thousands of rebel survivors suf-
fered the most hideous penalties, like those crucified by Crassus after his
victory over Spartacus, as a warning to other slaves with provocative no-
tions. The agricultural and commercial economies of Sicily bounced back
fairly rapidly but the Italian only slowly recovered, hindered by the short-
age of slave labor. There seems to have been a marked increase in popular
fears about future slave uprisings; parents told their children scary stories
about Spartacus coming to get them if they misbehaved. Yet, apparently, no
one questioned the institution of slavery itself nor proposed remedies for
the treatment of slaves. Such things did not come until well into the period
of the Roman emperors, and even then, reforms were few and far between.
See also: Agriculture; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Games; Gaul/Gallia Co-
mata; Land Reform; Piracy; Provinces; Spartacus (Film 1960)
Further Reading
sity Press.
of Michigan Press.
Shaw, B. D. 2001. Spartacus and the Slave Wars. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
Routledge.
Wiedemann, T. 1981. Greek and Roman Slavery. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity Press.
Spain
The Roman provinces in the Iberian Peninsula, Hispania Citerior (Nearer
Spain) and Hispania Ulterior (Further Spain), became of major concern to Ju-
lius Caesar during his Civil War with Pompey and other rival senators. A source
of manpower, supplies, and wealth (especially in grain, gold, and iron), Spain
766
Spain
Farms and fields in Lleida, Catalonia, Spain. Caesar and many of his contemporaries
would have seen vistas just like this one as they passed from ancient Gaul (France)
into Hispania Citerior (Nearer Spain). (Iakov Filimonov/Dreamstime.com)
served as an important base of operations for the Pompeians, from whom

Caesar attempted to wrest it not once but twice, succeeding the second time.
The Iberian Peninsula had been inhabited by various ethnic groups mil-
lennia before first contact with the Romans; most of what is known about
these groups comes from archaeology, which especially reveals the sophis-
tication of their metal-working techniques. Several of these peoples pros-
pered further, thanks to mixing with Celtic immigrants (hence they are
called Celtiberians) and trading with Carthaginian and Greek merchants,
both of whom established outposts and colonies on the coasts of Spain.
Eventually, most of the peninsula fell under Carthaginian sway.
Rome won Hispania Citerior and Ulterior from the Carthaginians in the
Second Punic War (218–202 BCE), and the Roman Senate established one
praetor to govern each of the two Spains; each praetor had two Roman le-
gions at his disposal as well as auxiliary troops drawn from the local popula-
tion. During the Republic, this constituted a considerable military garrison,
larger than any other in the empire. It was necessary, from the Roman point
of view, because they had to fight long and hard over the next century or so
to pacify the various ethnic populations of the Iberian Peninsula, especially
the Celtiberian tribes.
767
Spain
Native rebellions broke out repeatedly during the first three decades of
Roman control, until governor Tib. Sempronius Gracchus worked out ar-
rangements with the tribes which brought peace for about twenty years.
Then, a string of treacherous, brutal, extortionate governors aggravated
the Celtiberian and Lusitanian (modern Portugal) tribes into revolt again.
After the massacre of 8,000 Lusitani by Governor Galba in 150 BCE, the na-
tive leader Viriathus conducted a guerilla war against Rome; it only ended
because of his assassination by traitors in 139 BCE. Meanwhile, the Celtibe-
rians in the town of Numantia on the east coast of Spain successfully rose
up against numerous incompetent and petty Roman generals, even forcing
the surrender of 20,000 Roman troops and their commander at one point.
Three years later, in 134 BCE, P. Scipio Aemilianus, famous for his total de-
struction of the city of Carthage in North Africa, was sent by the Senate to
lay siege to Numantia; after fifteen months, he starved the population into
submission and razed that city to the ground as well.
In these constant conflicts, the Romans themselves learned much from
the natives about guerilla warfare and weaponry. In consequence, they
adapted their own tactics and modified their own military formations (e.g.,
developing the cohort as a subdivision of the legion); they even adopted
for their own the Celtiberians’ favored weapon, the short sword or gladius.
Caesar and his contemporaries would have fought very differently without
the lessons learned in Spain.
Even after Numantia, the Spanish provinces continued to require a fairly
permanent armed presence of Romans because they remained regions of
rebellious natives agitated by triumph-hunting Roman generals, that is,
until the time of Q. Sertorius. When the Romans descended into Civil War
among themselves in the 80s BCE, Sertorius, a leader from one of the com-
peting factions, went to Spain to build up support for his side and found
eager assistance from the population, since he treated them quite fairly and
seems to have promised them either independence from Rome or a greater
share of power in the empire. Gathering around him local nobles and many
warriors, he gave them a taste of what true partnership with Rome might be
like. His defeat, principally at the hands of Pompey, brought punishments
throughout the peninsula but also a close connection of certain local lead-
ers and populations with Pompey.
As noted earlier, normally, two Roman praetors were sent out each year
to govern the Spanish territories, but as part of the deal concluded among
the Triumvirs, Caesar, Crassus, and Pompey, at Luca in 56 BCE, Pompey
was granted authority over both Spanish provinces for a five-year period;
the Senate extended this authority when the Civil War broke out between
Caesar and Pompey in 49 BCE. Pompey never governed the provinces him-
self, but he remained in Rome while stationing his lieutenants in Spain in
his place, three of them, in fact. These men, L. Afranius, M. Petreius, and
768
M. Terentius Varro, declared their opposition to Caesar. Spain, traditionally

a place of resistance, now resisted him.
Caesar realized that Pompey’s legates could jeopardize all his own ac-
complishments in Gaul if they invaded that territory; surely, they would,
and then they would invade Italy against him. It was critical to take the
threat from Spain out of the picture.
Afranius and Petreius prepared to meet Caesar’s invasion at the hill town
of Ilerda (modern Lleida) in northeastern Spain. Their own troops, both
Roman and native, dismayed Caesar’s in their use of the hit-and-run tac-
tics so common in Iberian warfare. The confrontation between the two
sides lasted many days until Caesar began winning over more of the native
population; Pompey’s legates decided to retreat further south into territory
inhabited by more loyal Celtiberian allies. Caesar’s maneuvers prevented
this, however, and they found themselves short of food and repeatedly sur-
rounded and harried in their several attempts to return to Ilerda. Finally,
Afranius negotiated with Caesar, who, not wishing to destroy the enemy
force anyway, proposed fairly simple terms; the entire Pompeian army dis-
banded under safe conduct from Caesar. Perhaps a month later, Varro sur-
rendered to Caesar without a fight, having found himself deserted by most
of the local peoples, many of whom offered auxiliaries to fight for Caesar.
After Caesar’s further victories over the Pompeians in Greece and North
Africa, many of them took up refuge in Spain. Pompey’s sons especially
used the provinces there as the base for continued operations against Cae-
sar until their final defeat in the Battle of Munda in 45 BCE.
See also: Gaul/Gallia Comata; Munda, Battle of (45 BCE); Pompey (106–48
BCE); Provinces; Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE); Triumvirate
Further Reading
Keay, S. 1988. Roman Spain. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California
Press.
MacKendrick, P. The Iberian Stones Speak. New York: HarperCollins.
Richardson, J. 2004. Hispaniae. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

In his Commentaries on the Gallic Wars, Julius Caesar mentions how he ral-
lied his officers, commissioned and noncommissioned, before their engage-
ment with the warriors of the German warlord Ariovistus by recalling how
German and Gallic slaves had participated in the revolt of Spartacus. He
then goes on to provide his own assessment of the Roman response to that
769
Kirk Douglas as Spartacus, from

the 1960 film of the same name,
directed by Stanley Kubrick. For
generations of moviegoers
across the world, Douglas’
iconic portrayal became the very
image of the famous slave-
gladiator. (Photofest)
rebellion: Roman armies at first had reacted irrationally, fearing the hordes
of uprising slaves, but eventually employed self-control and calculation to
destroy a formidable, but overconfident, army of gladiators.
The motion picture blockbuster, Spartacus, conceived by American actor
and producer Kirk Douglas from his reading of Howard Fast’s 1952 novel
of the same name, stunningly re-creates the greatest and most significant
slave rebellion in the entire history of ancient Rome. In this widescreen
world of aristocrats, soldiers, and slaves, however, the audience is intro-
duced to many historical inaccuracies, among them a Julius Caesar who
never existed.
By Caesar’s day, the city of Capua, roughly 120 miles south of Rome,
had become well known for its gladiatorial training establishments. One
of these was owned by Lentulus Batiatus, who, though presented rather
comically in the film by actor Peter Ustinov, seems to have been in reality
particularly abusive in the treatment of his gladiators; they were, of course,
technically his property, his slaves. To avoid further abuse, and the fate oth-
erwise awaiting all of them of being forced to fight in pairs to the death,
for the amusement of Roman men and women of “quality,” as the char-
acter of Batiatus remarks in the movie, some 200 of his gladiators plotted
770
their escape in 73 BCE. Unfortunately, their master somehow discovered the

scheme and took preventive measures; only seventy or eighty men actually
broke out, having overpowered the guards and raided the school kitchen
and armory for weapons with which to defend themselves. Unexpected by
anyone, this seemingly minor “jailbreak” touched off a conflict that even-
tually spread through most of Italy; its leader was a man called Spartacus.
From what little was written on the subject among ancient authors,
Spartacus perhaps came from Thrace (modern Bulgaria); Plutarch, in his
Greek biography of Crassus, the principal Roman commander who oper-
ated against the rebellion, added that Spartacus possessed strength, cour-
age, wisdom, and character. Another Greek author, the historian Appian,
recorded that Spartacus had served as a mercenary in the Thracian auxilia-
ries of the Roman army, and having deserted, was captured and then sold
into slavery as punishment. Though some modern scholars doubt Sparta-
cus’s Thracian origin, instead proposing that he simply fought “Thracian-
style,” which was one of the standard methods of the gladiators, there is
no evidence at all to suggest that he was born a slave or that he worked in
the mines of Libya, as depicted in the movie. His dynamic skills and driv-
ing leadership style, both on film and in the ancient texts, however, could
be very well explained from a former warrior, and it does appear from the
sources that the other gladiators who escaped with him were prisoners of
war fairly recently captured in southern France (ancient Gaul) and Bulgaria,
purchased by Batiatus from the Roman army.
The gladiators quickly defeated and disarmed the garrison at Capua and
headed south to take refuge on the slopes and even inside the crater of
Mount Vesuvius, then considered dormant. Their initial success soon at-
tracted local farmers and herdsmen, both slave and free, to join them. Still,
the Senate in Rome foresaw no difficulty in quelling this uprising of “rab-
ble” in a short matter of time. To this end, they dispatched an army of
3,000 hastily gathered militia and auxiliaries under the command of the
praetor Clodius. Setting out to besiege the rebels on Vesuvius, he soon
found his own camp captured and his forces routed by his opponents. Clo-
dius does not merit any notice in the film.
The Senate then sent out another praetor, P. Varinius Glaber, with a
similar contingent. In the movie, the character “Glaberus” is identified as
commander of the garrison of Rome, a position that did not formally exist
until the first century CE, when the emperor Augustus created the office of
Urban Prefect; in 72 BCE, a praetor might have commanded a Roman force
to protect the city, but not usually when both consuls were around, which
they were. In any event, the character “Gracchus” (who clearly represents
the senatorial faction known as Populares) persuades the Senate to send
Glaberus with half the garrison against Spartacus, leaving the other half
under the command of Julius Caesar (played by actor John Gavin). There
771
is no historical evidence to back this up. Caesar began his military career
a year later, as a military tribune or junior officer, certainly not someone
who would have been placed in charge of protecting Rome itself; before
his election to that post, Caesar seems to have spent most of his time as an
advocate in the law courts and in paving political goodwill with banquets
and parties.
In several fast engagements, Spartacus’s forces defeated the real Gla-
ber’s lieutenants and then the praetor himself, capturing his lictors and
standards, and even his horse, although Glaber himself survived and
fled. The film displays only the humiliating capture of “Glaberus,” without
much of a fight; though inaccurate in historical detail, this approach does
serve to point out the apparently growing incompetence of Roman com-
manders and troops in the time period.
The defeat of two praetorian armies convinced the Roman Senate that
they were not dealing with a small outbreak of thieves or the grumblings
of weak slaves. They also learned that Spartacus had succeeded in freeing
thousands of slaves in southern Italy and recruiting many poor men to
his side, developing them into an army trained in gladiatorial techniques
and sophisticatedly organized like the Roman army itself; they ravaged the
countryside, looting, destroying, and disrupting commerce and agricul-
ture, principle sources of the Senate’s wealth. Roman authorities, assuming
that a well-trained force of regular soldiers would easily outmatch the still-
supposed inferior army of “slaves,” responded by authorizing the consuls of
72 BCE, L. Gellius Publicola and C. Lentulus Clodianus, to take two legions
apiece (approximately 20,000 men in total) and crush Spartacus. None of
this is depicted in the film.
The relatively easy victories of Spartacus attracted perhaps 70,000 men
to his standard. They eventually divided, however, into antagonistic fac-
tions. According to the sources, Spartacus and those loyal to him appar-
ently planned to leave Italy altogether by northern passage through the
Alps; a large contingent, led by the Gallic gladiator Crixus (who appears in
the film as a close friend to Spartacus from their days in the Libyan mines),
opposed this plan and ventured separately to continue raiding the Roman
plantations.
The movie shows only an argument among the gladiators over where to
go, concluding with everyone pledging loyalty to Spartacus’s plan. In real-
ity, the separation among the gladiators gave the advantage to consuls Gell-
ius and Lentulus, who, by concentrating their efforts against the men led
by Crixus, in fact thereby killed the latter in battle along with two-thirds of
his gladiators. The remnant escaped to Spartacus, then marching his force
into northern Italy. The consuls pursued, Lentulus maneuvering his two le-
gions ahead of Spartacus to block his path, Gellius hounding the gladiator
army from behind. Quite unexpectedly, Spartacus turned his men against
772
Gellius, defeated him, then wheeled around lightning fast to do the same
to Lentulus. The consuls survived, but Rome had suffered even further hu-
miliation. Surprisingly, none of this merited screen time.
For reasons still uncertain, perhaps bad weather, perhaps problems with
the local population, perhaps simply a desire for more loot or to press home
their victory, the army of gladiators, so close to making their escape from
Italy, now returned southward, apparently against the wishes of Spartacus
himself. They were sealing their own fate.
The turn of events reduced the Roman Senate and People of Rome to a
state of panic. Faced with no qualified generals volunteering to lead Roman
forces against the slave army, the Senate welcomed the assistance of M.
Licinius Crassus. A proven fighter and organizer of men, who had many
friends to support him and great wealth to aid a strained government trea-
sury, Crassus was the best, if not the only, choice for the job. Though he
was not trusted by all senators, they feared Spartacus even more, and so
supported his extraordinary appointment.
The commission was a great opportunity for Crassus, a chance to be the
“man of the hour,” but it did not, as in the movie, endow him with dicta-
torial powers nor did it require the cooperation of Julius Caesar. As noted
earlier, Caesar held only the rank of military tribune at the time and there
is no evidence regarding where he was posted in that capacity. Certainly, he
was not in command of the garrison in Rome, as in the film, so he could
not help Crassus tip the scales in his favor, not that they needed any tipping
since Crassus was the obvious choice for the job and met with no resistance
from rivals (his only potential rival being Pompey, who was still occupied
with a rebellion in Spain). The story as told on screen also depicts a coldly
dutiful and stiffly one-dimensional Caesar falling out with “Gracchus,”
leading him away from his Popularis roots and down the road of follow-
ing Crassus as a “conservative” dictator. Such depictions do not match the
personality or politics of the historical Caesar (who never left behind being
a Popularis) any more than they match the historical Crassus (who could
certainly not be regarded as a McCarthyesque Roman “conservative”).
With close to 50,000 troops, most of them paid out of his pocket,
Crassus pursued and Spartacus avoided battle. The gladiator army made
it all the way down to the toe of Italy, where Spartacus struck a bargain
with the Cilician pirates to transport some of his men at least across to Sic-
ily. According to Plutarch, Spartacus intended to win the confidence of the
thousands of slaves on the island and rekindle the fires of rebellion among
them that had only been quieted a generation before. With such a force of
fresh recruits, eager enemies of Rome, and with the consequent disruption
of Sicilian commerce and grain supply to Rome, Spartacus would have be-
come an even more formidable foe. As shown in the film, the Cilician pi-
rates abandoned Spartacus, however, even after he paid them for their aid;
773
without their ships, he could not bring forces into Sicily or escape by sea.
Taking a stand against Crassus’s approaching army was his only alternative.
Crassus at first tried to pen up the gladiator army in the toe of Italy; this
effort eventually failed (and is not depicted on screen). Still, he continued
to harass Spartacus’s rear troops and catch up with them. Moreover, the
Roman general coordinated his maneuvers with M. Lucullus, whose army,
returning to Italy from a campaign in Asia Minor, marched from the port
of Brundisium in the direction of Spartacus. The slave general found him-
self caught between two formidable armies, Crassus’s from the west and
Lucullus’s from the east; a third, that of Pompey, he discovered was also
on its way from the north. The pressure of these circumstances, well played
out in the film, precipitated the final showdown between the gladiators and
the Romans in the spring of 71 BCE. Beginning by harassing Crassus’s men
as they pitched camp, Spartacus threw more and more gladiators into the
fray, and the Romans did the same. After hours of fighting, the terrifyingly
bloody battle ended in a Roman victory, entirely to Crassus’s credit, since
neither the forces of Lucullus nor the forces of Pompey were anywhere
close enough to be involved (unlike in the movie).
In the aftermath of the battle, Crassus pursued and destroyed most of
the survivors and then crucified 6,000 of them along the Via Appia as a
warning to other “uppity” slaves. Though his body was never identified,
Spartacus himself was supposed not among the crucified but among those
who had fallen in the battle, which brings up the greatest, and certainly
the most memorable, historical inaccuracies of the movie. No one who
has watched the film could forget how the survivors of the gladiator army
refused to surrender Spartacus to the Romans for execution, instead each
of them insisting that he was Spartacus; no one could forget the confron-
tation between Spartacus and Crassus, when the latter recognized he had
the “slave general” in chains and forced him to fight one last time to the
death against his most-beloved comrade; and no one could forget Sparta-
cus hanging on the cross, gazing defiantly at his wife and child as they fled
Rome. None of this has any basis in the historical record.
The inspiring motion picture Spartacus, with all of its grandeur and spec-
tacle, leaves out the most important result of the “war of the gladiators”
for the future of the Republic. Pompey returned from crushing a rebel-
lion in Spain to intercept the last fugitive gladiators in Italy; and despite
his insulting claim, as a result, that he, not Crassus, had exterminated the
menace of Spartacus, the two Roman generals teamed up and used their
victorious armies to pressure their fellow citizens and the Senate into giv-
ing them consular powers together in 70 BCE. From this point certainly
began the political prominence of Pompey and Crassus; and Julius Caesar,
who, evidence suggests, had little if any connection with either of them be-
fore the rebellion of Spartacus, apparently began afterward to woo Pompey
774
Standards
for political support and Crassus for financial support. Perhaps the real-life
Crassus should have said at that time what the character Crassus does of
Caesar: “almost as I fear you. Yes, my dear Caesar, you!”
See also: Army; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Games; Magistrates/Cursus Ho-
norum; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Slavery/Slaves
Further Reading
York: Penguin.
Winkler, M. 2007. Spartacus: Film and History. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Pub-
lishing.
Standards
The Romans under the Republic developed objects known as signa militaria,
which we would call battle standards and flags, to serve a variety of practical
and quite beneficial purposes. First of all, particular units of the army would
each muster around their own standard; second, the standard provided a vi-
sual rallying point for the guidance of the troops in a particular unit while
engaged in combat on the field of battle and a means by which command-
ers of the army could identify the position of particular units. Lastly, battle
standards, often associated with deities or virtues to which the unit dedicated
itself, encouraged an esprit de corps among the soldiers of a unit.
The basic building block of the Roman army during the first half of the
Republic may have been the century, but the chief tactical unit was the ma-
niple, consisting of two centuries. Centuries had no battle standards of their
own, whereas every maniple had a battle standard, a long spear topped by
the image of a hand (manus, hence maniple) made of metal. During the
second half of the Republic, the tactical unit known as the cohort, consist-
ing of three maniples, took center stage, and, in so doing, took the stan-
dard of its principal maniple. Cavalry units or alae (wings) carried flags or
vexilla, again consisting of a tall spear, but topped by a bar of wood from
which hung a square cloth, with designs for identification.
In a legion of Caesar’s time, then, near the end of the Republic, one
would have seen thirty manipular standards, thirty shiny hands, sticking up
over the heads of the legionaries, including ten identifying the cohorts of
the legion, and as many vexilla as there were cavalry units attached to the le-
gion. Also by that time, each legion had its own battle standard, developed
775
Standards
The Roman Standard Bearer of the Tenth Legion Landing in Britain, 55 BC, as illus-
trated in color lithograph by James W. E. Doyle, 1864. The aquilifer, as Romans
would have called him, carries the legionary symbol, a tall staff topped by a golden
eagle or aquila. (Stapleton Collection/Corbis)
first by Caesar’s uncle, the famous general Marius. This consisted of the
same sort of tall spear, surmounted by the image of an eagle or aquila (the
bird most sacred to the Roman high god, Jupiter), fashioned out of gold
or silver.
Already during the Republic, and especially later under the emperors,
maniples, cohorts, legions, and alae received special decorations for their
standards in honor of a unit’s achievements. Such decorations included
776
Standards
commemorative miniature shields (phalerae) and crowns or wreaths (coro-

nae). Again probably going back to the Republic, each legionary camp had
a designated special, sacred space for all the standards of the legion to be
stored and tended.
According to Roman tradition, the officers in charge of the centuries, the
centurions, who themselves had risen to command from the ranks, selected
those soldiers who carried the standards, known as signifer, aquilifer, or
vexillarius, depending on whether they bore the legionary standard or one
of the others mentioned. Certainly, higher-ranking officers must have also
had some say in the selection; aquiliferi, for example, regarded the legion-
ary standard as a sacred trust from their commander in chief.
Standard-bearers were among the bravest men in the armed forces of
Rome and many in the Late Republic held their position for years, a fur-
ther testament to that bravery. To heighten their courage, and to play
psychological warfare with the enemy, standard-bearers frequently wore
totemic animal skins, such as those of the bear, lion, and especially wolf,
appropriating from those animals their raw power. They had to have the
strength and the fortitude not only to keep the standard elevated but also
to defend it from attack and especially from capture by the enemy. A fa-
mous example from Caesar’s army was the aquilifer, L. Petrosidius; dur-
ing the Gallic Wars, while his unit was under attack from the chieftain
Ambiorix, and he himself was virtually surrounded by enemy warriors,
Petrosidius saw to the safety of the legionary eagle before his own. He got
close enough to the wall of the Roman encampment to throw the stan-
dard over it and then turned to face the enemy, who cut him down after
a hard fight.
The story of Caesar’s armies reveals a number of standard-bearers who
actually broke and ran in the face of danger. On one such occasion, a
standard-bearer fought back against Caesar by using the standard itself as
a weapon; most had a sharp point at the bottom which was driven into the
ground when a military unit was at rest. The aquilifer in question threat-
ened to run Caesar through with that sharp point. On another occasion,
a standard-bearer, confronted by Caesar, simply handed his standard over
and then ran from the battlefield in terror.
When Caesar was engaged against Pompey in western Greece, he tried
to rally his men, who were in an awful panic as their camp was under assault
by Pompey’s superior forces, by holding and displaying the battle standards
himself for all to see; in the chaos, he was unable to do much, though, and
the enemy, in fact, captured thirty-two standards (though no aquilae, for-
tunately for Caesar’s sense of honor), most of which had been abandoned
by their bearers. Before leading his battered forces in a tactical retreat across
Greece, Caesar made sure to reprimand the standard-bearers; he, in fact,
demoted several of them for their misconduct.
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Standards
Caesar was not averse to grabbing soldiers by the throat and pushing
them back into a battle from which they were trying to escape. He did so,
for example, during his campaign in North Africa against Pompeian troops
and their Numidian allies, forcibly redirecting one of the standard-bearers,
with his own hands, toward the enemy. Later in that same campaign, the
standard-bearers of the cohorts seem to have made up for earlier lapses in
fortitude by marching forward against the enemy despite the orders of Cae-
sar himself and his centurions to the contrary; on this occasion, Caesar soon
gave in to the zeal of his troops and especially of his signiferi.
It was not uncommon for a hard-pressed unit to gather all its standards
together in one spot, either deliberately or out of reflex, but rallying around
those standards did not always produce the desired result of strengthen-
ing troop morale. Once during the Gallic Wars, for instance, when detach-
ments of Caesar’s army found themselves surrounded and under attack by
enemy warriors, some actually suffered a greater sense of panic as they piled
in around the standards. The key, then, was for some brave standard-bearer
or centurion to restore confidence among the men by leading them back
into the fray. Sometimes this happened, other times it could not be done.
On the eve of his assassination, Caesar was in the midst of preparations
for a massive war against the Parthian Empire, which centered on what we
call Iraq and Iran today. One of his primary motivations for doing so was
to regain the literally hundreds of battle standards, manipular, cavalry, and
especially legionary, lost by his colleague, Crassus, in the latter’s disastrous
invasion of Parthia nearly a decade earlier. Caesar never launched his ex-
pedition, but his lieutenant, Marc Antony, did, on a smaller scale, in fact,
more than once, in the decade following Caesar’s death; these invasions of
Parthia had mixed results, and several more battle standards fell into enemy
hands. Antony’s rival, Octavian, once he became the first emperor, Augus-
tus, wasted little time in applying diplomatic pressure upon the Parthians
to hand over Rome’s lost standards; he heralded this success as one of the
greatest achievements of his lifetime. The efforts of all these leaders remind
us clearly of the incredible value the battle standards held for the Roman
military and Roman society as a whole.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Arms and Armor;
Army; Coronae; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Parthia
Further Reading
778
Subura
Ltd.
Subura
Among the most bustling and most densely populated regions of ancient
Rome was the Subura district. It comprised mainly the low-lying area north
of the Forum Romanum bounded beyond by the Esquiline, Viminal, and
Quirinal Hills, though some of the district stretched up into those hills, es-
pecially into that part of the Esquiline known as the Oppian. Perhaps the
most famous resident of the Subura was Julius Caesar.
Caesar lived in the Subura district with his mother, Aurelia, and his first
two wives, Cornelia and Pompeia, in a fairly modest house; it was there that
his daughter, Julia, was born and spent the first decade of her life. Unfor-
tunately, we have no evidence for where Caesar himself was born, but this
house in the Subura may have been, in fact, the family home going back to
the days of Caesar’s own childhood. Even though many of his high-class
contemporaries, especially his fellow patricians, had established themselves
in fabulous mansions atop the Palatine Hill, overlooking the Forum Ro-
manum from the south, still there were other aristocrats who followed the
much older tradition of living among the common people (albeit in better
housing). Whether by deliberate choice or by necessity owing to the lack
of the huge sums required to purchase a home in the posh part of Rome,
Caesar and his family actually lived out that tradition.
Caesar’s later Popularis leanings and his capacity to interact so well with
the regulars in the Roman army might be explained by his living in the
Subura for such a long time, especially if he grew up there as a child. This
would have meant that he had frequent, first-hand, very personal experi-
ence of the working classes of Roman society, especially the many craftsmen
779
Subura
whose shops, both small- and large-scale, were located in the Subura, prob-
ably on the ground floor of the tightly packed, multilevel housing units that
dominated the narrow lanes of the district. There was also by Caesar’s time
a sizable Jewish community in that part of the city, and, therefore, also at
least one gathering place, a synagogue, for them there.
Unfortunately, further knowledge of the district comes only from liter-
ary sources that described it in the century and a half after Caesar’s death.
Still, such well-known poets as Martial and Juvenal do provide us with an
image of the Subura that Caesar would have probably found familiar as
well. They describe a mixed neighborhood, economically, socially, and eth-
nically, including not only the artisans and foreigners noted earlier but also
grocers, barbers, butchers, and even prostitutes, living and working along-
side one another and living alongside members of the Roman upper class as
well; even decades after Caesar’s time, the district still contained the town-
homes, flashy or not, of Roman senators, right in the midst of the tenement
housing of the poor.
On becoming Pontifex Maximus in 63 BCE, Caesar moved with his
family into the official residence for that priestly office, the Domus Pu-
blica in the Forum Romanum. People would have said that he went from
being a Suburanus to being a Sacraviensis (living along the Via Sacra or
Sacred Way in the Forum). This was no small distinction. For hundreds
of years, residents in the heart of Rome, on the fringes of the Forum it-
self and up on the Palatine Hill (i.e., in the district surrounding the Via
Sacra), had come to look down their noses at the residents of the Sub-
ura, and even more so in the century or so before Caesar’s time, when
the residential areas of the Forum and Palatine became almost exclusively
upper class.
The Suburani, naturally, never accepted the insulting attitude of the
Sacravienses, and the rivalry between them was ritualized each October
during a very ancient festival in honor of Mars, going back at least to the
fifth century BCE. On the fifteenth of that month, male citizens selected
from the Subura and from the residential areas close to the Via Sacra came
together in the Campus Martius (Field of Mars) to compete over the head
of a horse; the horse had been sacrificed to Mars at the conclusion of a cer-
emonial race in the Campus. Apparently, the Sacravienses and Suburani
struggled over the horse’s head in opposing teams, similar to modern
rugby players fighting over a ball. The reward for doing so seems to have
been simply the honor itself of defeating their rivals. This ritual of the equus
October or October horse pitted the humbler citizens of the Subura against
their more prosperous neighbors in the region of the Forum Romanum,
thus not only reinforcing neighborhood pride but also creating an environ-
ment in which class competition was deemed acceptable. It must have been
an exciting thing whenever the Suburani won the contest. Perhaps Caesar
780
Suebi
himself participated in it at some point in his life; one wonders which side
he cheered for in his later years.
When the emperor Augustus had the Forum Augusti, an addition to the
Forum Romanum and the Forum Iulium, constructed in the decades fol-
lowing Caesar’s death, he made sure to separate that site from the Subura
by a massive stone wall, penetrated only by two archways; he also insisted
that no one enter the Forum Augusti unless properly attired in formal dress
(e.g., the toga for Roman men). In both ways, Augustus hoped to keep
“undesirables” from the Subura out of his new ceremonial space. The high,
thick wall of pepperino (volcanic stone) also served to prevent fires from
the Subura from spreading into the Forum area. Augustus started the trend
of demolishing the poorer structures of the Subura, thus building over and
into the district, continued by later emperors Vespasian, Nerva, and Trajan.
As a result, today, the portion of the Subura closest to the Forum Roma-
num is covered over by the ruins of the Imperial Fora.
See also: Aurelia/Aurelian family; Clothing; Cornelia (d. 69 BCE); Forum
Romanum; Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Pontifex Maximus; Populares
Further Reading
of Michigan Press.
Books.
versity Press.
Suebi
The most troublesome of the Germanic tribes in the time of Julius Cae-
sar were the Suebi, in reality, a coalition of peoples led by the tribe of that
781
Suebi
name. Not only did he have to confront them within Gallic territory (i.e.,
in what is today eastern France), but he also built a bridge across the Rhine
River, the first time anyone had ever done so, to take the fight into their
homeland.
At the time of Caesar’s governorship of Gaul in the early 50s BCE, the
Suebi might have been strangers to the Romans in the face-to-face sense,
but the Roman authorities certainly knew of them through their allies in
Gaul; some of the latter had been forced into submission by the Suebian
warlord, Ariovistus, who had transferred a portion of his people perma-
nently into the Gallic lands back in the late 70s BCE. Over the next decade,
the Suebi became more and more of a problem for the Gauls who had wel-
comed them as mercenaries, as well as for the Gauls whom they subjugated;
in the latter category, Rome’s friends, the Aedui, clamored for assistance.
Despite the fact that the Senate of Rome had accepted the Suebian posi-
tion in central-eastern Gaul and had even declared Ariovistus a “friend of
Rome,” Caesar took the first opportunity he had of acting on Gallic com-
plaints against their German overlord to wage war and push the Suebi out
of Gaul.
The Suebi served for the Romans as a picture-perfect example of a Ger-
manic tribe. According to Caesar’s own account, they had no private owner-
ship of land and made use of common lands only for a year at a time before
picking up stakes and moving; they lived on milk and meat, rather than
grain, and opposed drinking wine or wearing lots of clothes. They hardened
themselves to the harshness of the northern climate and the wilderness there
and dedicated themselves to the practice of war, on foot and on horseback.
Indeed, select foot-soldiers trained to run alongside their cavalry, provide
protection to the latter in retreat or when unhorsed, or advance beyond the
latter to deliver a crushing blow to an enemy. Under heavy assault, the Sue-
bian warriors marshaled into solid squares of men, defending one another
with an interlocking wall of shields. They displayed superhuman courage
in combat, only augmented by their “gigantic” height and “flashing eyes.”
Even their women joined in the experience of war, unlike those of Rome,
by circling their wagons behind the lines and waving and screaming to their
men from the wagons in encouragement to fight to their utmost.
Among the German tribes, the Suebi held the foremost place, both in
terms of their numbers and prosperity and their skill in combat; in fact,
those Suebi still living on the eastern side of the Rhine, as a result of fre-
quent and persistent warfare, had created around their territory a zone
empty of other populations, except those few whom they had placed under
tribute to them, while forcing others to attempt to find refuge in Gaul, with
troubling results for the local inhabitants and Rome.
Having decisively defeated Ariovistus and those of his tribe west of the
Rhine in 58 BCE, Caesar answered the challenge posed by those Suebi who
782
Suetonius (ca. 70–ca. 130 CE)
still lived on the eastern side three years later, as well as from the German
refugees who fled from them across into Gaul; He ordered his military en-
gineers and soldiers to construct a massive bridge across to Germany. In
fact, Caesar bridged the Rhine again the following year, conducting on
both occasions military operations and engaging in various scare tactics on
the other side. These drove the Suebi, eventually, into hiding far from the
Roman sphere of influence, not to emerge on that scene again until the first
century of the Common Era.
The incursion of the Suebi into Gallic territory in the first century BCE
was not at all unusual, historically speaking. For generations, seminomadic
German tribes had crossed the Rhine River into Gaul, either simply for the
purpose of raiding the populations there or to settle there themselves, like
so many of the Belgic tribes in the northeast of the region (today’s Belgium
and southwestern Holland), whose ancestors had come from Germany.
The Romans, or, at least, Julius Caesar, did not see any wisdom in allowing
such raids or migrations to continue; many of the Gallic populations saw
in the Romans a savior that could prevent further Germanic incursions and
provide lasting peace and security. The actions of the Suebi, thus, unwit-
tingly played into the rise of Rome as the dominant power in Gaul and set
in motion the permanent division between Gaul and Germany, the former
within the Roman Empire, the latter outside it.
See also: Aedui; Ariovistus; Belgae; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Germans; Prov-
inces; Senate
Further Reading
University Press.
California Press.

C. Suetonius Tranquilus was one of the principal and one of the earliest
biographers in the Latin language, as well as a key influence on later bi-
ographers through the collapse of the Western Roman Empire and even
783
Title page of Suetonius’s Vitae

Caesarum or Lives of the
Caesars, from the edition by
Beroaldo and Sabellicus, 1506.
The cartoon depicts Suetonius,
as Renaissance artists imagined
him, actually sitting between the
two Italian editors. (Wellcome
Library, London)
afterward throughout the Middle Ages. About 150 years after the assassi-
nation of Julius Caesar, Suetonius composed a biography about him, which
serves as one of the main sources we possess on the life of Caesar.
Born around 70 CE to a military family of the equestrian order, Suetonius
received quite a solid education; indeed, his contemporary, the senator and
author, Pliny the Younger, who certainly did not lack high-level education
himself, referred to Suetonius as eruditissimus or most learned. Trained in
law, he seems to have worked in that profession, and perhaps as a scholar
on the side, until benefiting from a series of key appointments to the staff
at the Imperial Palace under the emperors Trajan and Hadrian; Pliny the
Younger, who happened to be a close friend of Trajan’s, basically served
as Suetonius’s patron, introducing him to the “right people” and recom-
mending him for such posts.
Considering certain details in his own later writings, Suetonius clearly
spent lots of time in one of his capacities, as Imperial Librarian, studying
the Imperial archives, almost definitely taking notes along the way. Em-
peror Hadrian, with whom Suetonius worked closely and even traveled of-
ficially, eventually fired him from this post. This mattered little, however;
784
over the course of perhaps a decade in the Imperial Palace, he had obviously
amassed enough material, and brought it with him into retirement, to con-
struct the basis of the biographical works he then composed, one on educa-
tors, orators, poets, philosophers, and historians (covering something like
one hundred life stories), the other on twelve Roman emperors. Though
the reasons for Suetonius losing his job remain unclear, some evidence sug-
gests that it may have been tied to the composition of this second work.
Obsessed with details (often stunningly accurate) as well as gossip, not as
analytical or polished as his contemporary, Tacitus the historian, nonethe-
less, Suetonius gives us a slice of real-life Rome, at its best and its worst.
In his De vita Caesarem or Caesares or Lives of the Twelve Caesars, Sue-
tonius began with Julius Caesar, whom he classified among the emperors
(unlike modern historians, who do not do so in common practice). One
should remember that, without Julius Caesar, the later emperors would not
have used his name as theirs. For Suetonius, the connection of Caesar to
the later emperors was “familial” as well as historical.
As in all the other imperial biographies, of the extant eighty-nine chap-
ters in the Divus Iulius (The Divine Julius Caesar), the first forty-four fol-
low a largely chronological sequence of events. The following thirty-four
proceed through various subjects thematically. The final eleven chapters
address Caesar’s fall from power and assassination, as well as the immedi-
ate aftermath.
The first several sections of the biography, which are missing in the sur-
viving manuscripts of the Lives, would have contained information about
Caesar’s ancestors and perhaps about his childhood. Without those para-
graphs, the reader is thrust immediately into Caesar’s life at age fifteen,
when he lost his father and got engaged to Cinna’s daughter; Cinna at that
time controlled Rome in a quasi-dictatorial fashion, and Caesar remained
loyal to him, and to his marriage with Cornelia, despite the trouble this
brought him from Sulla, Cinna’s political rival who eventually established
a true dictatorship in Rome. Suetonius then follows Caesar’s career as a ju-
nior military officer in the eastern Mediterranean, his time studying rheto-
ric on the Greek island of Rhodes, and the colorful incident of his capture
by pirates (whom he later punished). By Chapters 5 and 6, Suetonius be-
gins to reveal to us Caesar’s Popularis leanings in the political scene back in
Rome, as well as his strong pride in family symbolized by the funeral eulo-
gies for his wife and his aunt. Suetonius links Caesar’s ambition to conquer
the world to certain experiences he had in Spain as lieutenant-governor
(Chapter 7), and then goes on in the following six chapters to illustrate
how his association with Crassus, his support for “revolutionaries” in Rome
and northern Italy, his lavish public entertainments (especially gathering
extraordinarily large numbers of gladiators outside the Senate House), his
intrigues to secure the Kingdom of Egypt for Rome (really for himself), his
785
symbolic and courtroom moves against Sulla’s former regime, and his gain-
ing the coveted position of Pontifex Maximus were all actually calculated
attempts at increasing his power with an eye to that conquest of the world.
In these chapters, Suetonius demonstrates his erudition quite well, as he
drops names from eminent historians and other authors of the Republic
and analyzes some of their views on Caesar’s early career moves.
Chapters 14 to 17 chronicle the growing tensions between Caesar and
his Optimate opponents, especially during and after the Conspiracy of Ca-
tiline. Caesar appears as the champion of mercy, but even more so as a quite
determined foe of those who disagree with him, who insult him, or ob-
struct him, and the Roman people rush to his defense over and over again,
in opposition to senatorial wishes. Suetonius glosses over Caesar’s gover-
norship of Further Spain to focus the readers’ attention on his quick and
nontraditional behavior: how Caesar left for Spain without formal senato-
rial confirmation, how he returned from Spain without awaiting his succes-
sor, how he sought special dispensation to stand for the consulship without
laying down his command, how he colluded with Lucceius to bribe their
way into the consulship together, how he charmed Pompey and Crassus
into backing him, and so on. Basically, these chapters (18 and 19) reveal
how Caesar would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
This theme continues in the chapters that detail the events of his con-
sulship (Chapters 20–23) during which, to paraphrase a quote of Caesar
himself cited by Suetonius, he “stamped on the persons” of his enemies,
neutralizing his colleague Bibulus, imprisoning Cato, terrorizing Lucullus,
and exiling Cicero. In the allotment of provincial governorships for Cae-
sar’s proconsulship, Suetonius asserts that Caesar wanted to govern Gaul
to gain wealth and score victories meriting triumphs (Chapter 22) and that
later Caesar deliberately instigated conflict in the region (Chapter 24). Nei-
ther an attempted impeachment (Chapter 23) nor senatorial inquiry slowed
him down (Chapter 24).
Suetonius, however, is very little interested in provincial events during
Caesar’s nine years in Gaul, providing only a brief summary (Chapter 25).
Instead, he devotes the attention of almost three entire chapters (Chapters
26–28) to Caesar’s myriad acts of generosity in Rome and across the em-
pire, portrayed as calculated moves to gain lots of political friends. These
friends came in handy in the ensuing Civil War, instigated by Caesar’s op-
ponents, like the consul Marcellus, on stubbornly legal grounds, but also
precipitated by Caesar’s equally stubborn sense of threatened dignitas
(Chapters 28–37).
Again displaying his knowledge of Republican sources, Suetonius seems
to discuss with us the various motives of Caesar for engaging in war against
his country: to protect the plebeian tribunes against an obstinate senatorial
faction, to cover up his lack of funds and inability to pay off all supporters,
786
to avoid impeachment, to exercise power as he had done in Gaul (Chapter

30). After four chapters in brief synopsis of Caesar’s actions in the Civil War
(Chapters 33–36), Suetonius covers his triumphs, celebratory spectacles,
and rewards to troops in three chapters (Chapters 37–39) with minimal
authorial commentary.
Chapters 40–43 summarize in similar fashion Caesar’s activities at home
in his role as senior statesman. Suetonius, for example, explains Caesar’s
reform of the Roman calendar on the model of the Egyptian solar calen-
dar (Chapter 40); he notes the changes Caesar made to the membership
of the Roman Senate, to the staffing of the law courts, to the lists of those
eligible for the grain dole, to the number of annual magistrates and his
new role in selecting such officials, and to the method of conducting the
Roman census (Chapter 41). The author gives special attention to Caesar’s
efforts at bolstering the citizen population in Italy, at solving the debt crisis
in Rome, at suppressing criminal organizations that had plagued the city
with violence in the recent past, and at maintaining a strict but fair system
of justice (Chapters 42 and 43). Chapter 44 rounds out this section of the
biography by detailing projects planned but never completed by Caesar as
dictator, such as the new Temple to Mars and public libraries (both finished
by Augustus), the draining of swamplands in Italy (finished by Emperor
Claudius), and military expeditions against the Dacians and Parthians (both
conducted by later emperors, including Domitian and Trajan).
Suetonius interrupts the more or less chronological flow of his narrative
up to this point by engaging in an extended set of digressions on physical
and behavioral aspects of Caesar. He begins with a valuable description of
the dictator’s physical appearance, style of dress, and issues with health, es-
pecially his epilepsy (Chapter 45). Next, he provides illustrations of where
Caesar lived (Chapter 46), his love of beautiful things, especially expensive
pearls (Chapter 47), and his conduct at meals (Chapter 48). Again reveal-
ing his archival research, the biographer, in Chapters 49 to 52, sets out the
evidence and allegations regarding Caesar’s sex life from witnesses of the
dictator’s own time, coming to no particular judgment, moral or otherwise,
yet perhaps providing a benchmark for the behaviors of the later emperors
he writes about, like Caligula and Nero. The investigation of Caesar’s hab-
its takes on a clearer moral tone in the following chapters, where Suetonius
comments on his subject’s moderation in drinking (Chapter 53) in contrast
to his dishonesty and virtual greed when it came to money and other forms
of wealth (Chapter 54).
Chapters 55 to 70 serve to illustrate Caesar’s remarkable abilities. Once
more, contemporary authors are quoted by Suetonius to prove the elo-
quence of Caesar in speaking and writing (Chapters 55 and 56) as well as
to provide critiques of his principal memoirs on the Gallic Wars and the
Civil War; this is all invaluable evidence for historians today, especially the
787
bits and pieces we learn about other compositions of Caesar’s now lost
to us. Turning to his military prowess (Chapters 57 and 58), Suetonius
sketches a brief portrait of a talented swordsman and horseman (leaving
the tale of Caesar’s “magical” horse until Chapter 61), quite adventurous
yet cautious. For whatever reason, he then inserts one chapter on Caesar’s
lack of religious scruples (Chapter 59) only to return in the succeeding
chapter to the characterization of Caesar the military man, unpredict-
ably careful or reckless (Chapter 60), in-person role model of his troops
(Chapter 62), utterly determined and brave (Chapters 63 and 64), severe
with his men only when they fail him in battle (Chapter 65), motivat-
ing them in such clever ways (Chapter 66 and 67) that they demonstrate
superhuman valiance in his cause (Chapter 68 and 69). Caesar expected
this and could be quite tough when his “comrades in arms” let him down
(Chapter 70).
Suetonius next explores Caesar’s relations with friends, clients, and ad-
versaries. He reveals a devoted and loyal patron (Chapter 71), a caring
friend (Chapter 72), mild in revenge, almost always merciful to his foes
(Chapters 73–75); of course, Caesar’s mercy or clementia was widely ac-
knowledged as one of his signature qualities. In this section especially, the
biographer shows his firm knowledge of Caesar’s own writings.
In Chapter 76, the narrative turns in the direction of Caesar’s demise
by illustrating the causes behind his assassination. Suetonius lays the blame
at Caesar’s own feet, for he was the one who accepted the excessive hon-
ors and powers that gave him the appearance of a tyrant aiming at divinity.
He disregarded traditions and precedents, mocked Roman religious ta-
boos, allowed friends, servants, and foreign allies access to power they did
not deserve, and began to adopt the arrogance of the hated dictator Sulla
(Chapter 77), even openly treating the Senate with greater and greater con-
tempt (Chapter 78). The inflammatory incidents surrounding the Luperca-
lia festival of 44 BCE and the attempts on the part of some of his supporters
to have him declared king, perhaps with his full complicity, generated fur-
ther animosity against him from the common people and the aristocracy
(Chapter 79).
Caesar’s regal aspirations brought together his aristocratic opponents in
the plot to destroy him, and they seemed to have the sympathy of the Peo-
ple of Rome as well; Suetonius once again records valuable popular songs
or satirical verses that lambasted Caesar as proof of this. He also shares in-
formation about the various scenarios discussed by the Conspirators and
how they came to their final decision (Chapter 80). Chapter 81 details the
different omens, some familiar from other sources, others peculiar to this
text, that signaled Caesar’s fall, as well as his response to them, especially
his stubborn skepticism about what Suetonius characterizes as unmistak-
able warnings.
788
Chapter 82 recounts the actual murder and its aftermath; Suetonius fol-
lows this up in the next chapter with the details of Caesar’s will and, then,
in Chapter 84 with quite a full account of his funeral and Marc Antony’s
simple eulogy, recording information not found elsewhere in surviving evi-
dence. One item, for instance, is the emotional presence of Jewish mourn-
ers; Caesar had performed great services for the Jewish communities of the
empire, but by Suetonius’s time, many of them had gotten on the bad side
of the emperors (especially those for whom Suetonius himself worked), so
this detail would have provided a historical contrast between “then and
now.”
Having reported on the popular uproar against Caesar’s assassination in
Chapter 85, Suetonius engages in Chapters 86 and 87 in perhaps his most
interesting discussion on the question of whether or not Caesar, in fact,
wished to die and set himself up for murder. He comes to no overt conclu-
sion, but the evidence he chooses to present surely tends in the direction of
Caesar seeking an end to his life at that time.
The last two chapters serve as a sort of postscript for the biography. They
cover Caesar’s deification and postmortem honors (Chapter 88), as well as
providing a brief commentary on the fates of the Conspirators, all dead by
violence within just a few years of Caesar himself (Chapter 89). This last
chapter echoes the treatment of Caesar’s demise in other works contem-
porary with Suetonius’s, like Plutarch’s Life of Caesar, for instance. Con-
sidering the philosophical, rhetorical, and political milieu of the time, the
most likely reason for ending the biography of one Roman leader with the
deaths of his enemies rather than with his own would be to show posterity
that such murderers always pay for their crimes, especially when it comes
to killing a Caesar.
Suetonius evidently regarded Julius Caesar as the man who set the pa-
rameters for all future emperors of Rome in terms of character, behavior,
abilities, achievements, and powers. For this, we owe Suetonius our grati-
tude because his consequent research preserves for us much valuable and
otherwise lost material on Caesar’s life and career. For the author’s own
time, this biography gave emperors like Trajan and Hadrian, who were con-
sidered “the best of Emperors,” the opportunity of comparing themselves
with Caesar to see how they matched up with the man who “started it all.”
The largely topical approach Suetonius employed in this and later biogra-
phies would have made engaging in such “glances into the mirror of his-
tory” easy and interesting.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Bellum Civile
(Caesar); Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Calendar; Cato
(95–46 BCE); Census; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Conspiracy of the
Liberators (44 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53); Dictator; Dignitas; Education;
789
Suicide
Egypt; Epilepsy; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Ides of March; Lucullus (118–57 BCE);

Lupercalia; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Military Discipline; Octavian-
Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Patrons and Clients; Plutarch’s Lives; Pompey
(106–48 BCE); Pontifex Maximus; Populares; Rex; Senate; Spain; Sulla (ca.
138–78 BCE); Triumphs/Trophies
Further Reading
Dorey, T. A. 1967. Latin Biography. New York: Basic Books.
Wallace-Hadrill, A. 1983. Suetonius: The Scholar and his Caesars. London: Duck-
worth.
Suicide
Unlike most modern societies, the Romans did not categorically condemn
the practice of taking one’s own life (mors voluntaria or vitam relinquere
in Latin). Indeed, under certain circumstances, they regarded suicide as
the best and most honorable option. Julius Caesar’s time-period witnessed
quite its share of such self-inflicted death.
Among various categories of suicide, differentiated by motive, one came
from self-sacrifice on the battlefield. In the Roman context, this no doubt
derived from two sources. On the one hand, there was a very ancient tra-
dition, going back at least as far as the third century BCE, of vowing one’s
life to the gods as an offering in exchange for one’s country or one’s army.
On the other hand, every soldier of the Republic had drilled into him from
childhood the importance of standing by one’s comrades and one’s com-
manding officer and never accepting defeat, even against the most impossi-
ble odds. These religious and psychosocial underpinnings had contributed
greatly to the success of Roman armies in building up an empire across the
Mediterranean region.
A notable example of such suicide comes from Caesar’s wars in Gaul
(roughly modern France and Belgium). In 54 BCE, one of the Gallic chief-
tains, Ambiorix, carried out a destructive surprise attack against the camp
of Caesar’s lieutenant, Titurius Sabinus. Lured into bogus peace talks, Titu-
rius Sabinus and many of his men were slaughtered. The survivors made
their way back to camp. Their legionary standard-bearer, Petrosidius, did
not even attempt to enter the camp, however; instead, once he had made
sure the aquila (the eagle-topped emblem of the legion) was safely inside,
790
Suicide
he turned to meet his death, surrounded by enemy warriors. Caesar re-

called that Petrosidius reportedly fought calmly and heroically.
A second example of this sort of mors voluntaria occurred during the
Civil War between Caesar and his Roman rivals, indeed, as the Battle of
Pharsalus, the battle which ended the power of Pompey, his chief rival,
began. Caesar had in his army a brave veteran soldier, a former centurion
by the name of Crastinus. He shouted out to Caesar that, for the sake of his
comrades and his general, he was about to perform feats that would gain
the latter’s gratitude. Then, leading a picked force of volunteers, he started
the charge against Pompey’s forces before anyone else on Caesar’s side had
even made a move. One could, of course, see this as reckless daring (which
Caesar did, regarding himself as indebted to the soldier’s courage for his
victory), but it was also virtually suicidal; Crastinus died from a sword-
thrust through his mouth.
Suicide also served as a means to escape capture and disgrace at the
hands of an enemy. The rest of the men with the standard-bearer Petrosi-
dius, for example, those inside the camp, killed themselves (by means un-
specified, though probably stabbing) after nightfall, assuming no way out
of their predicament. In the spring of 46 BCE, Caesar defeated his principal
opponents in North Africa. Two of these, King Juba of Numidia and M.
Petreius, a long-time lieutenant of Pompey’s, were determined not to be
captured by Caesar or any of their other adversaries in the region. Juba had
already conceived the idea of suicide should fortune turn against him, but
he had something grand in mind; he had had an enormous funeral pyre
erected in the center of the town of Zama upon which he intended not only
to have himself cremated but also his wives, children, servants, possessions,
and, indeed, all the residents of the town. They, understandably, refused to
let him in when he found himself on the run from Caesar. Instead, he and
Petreius entered into a mutual suicide pact. They ate a meal together and
afterward drew swords and engaged in combat with each other like a pair of
gladiators. Originally, we should recall that gladiatorial combat was a form
of self-sacrifice to the spirits of the dead. In this instance, Juba killed Pe-
treius, but then failed in his courage to stab himself in the chest; he turned
to one of his servants, who completed the deed.
The most famous examples of this sort of suicide were those of Brutus
and Cassius, Marc Antony and Cleopatra, and especially Cato the Younger.
Certainly Cato’s demise became the most legendary. The earliest surviv-
ing version of the story appears as part of a continuation of Caesar’s Civil
War by an anonymous ancient author. According to this account, Cato ap-
proached the whole business of taking his own life with calm assuredness.
Realizing that Caesar had defeated the forces on his side and that most of
the people in the North African city of Utica (which he commanded) had
no stomach for further resistance to Caesar, Cato settled his personal affairs
791
Suicide
with his lieutenant and then quietly went to his bedroom and stabbed him-
self with a sword. His servants and his physician suspected something was
amiss and broke into the room to find Cato collapsed on the floor. They
bandaged him and revived him, but, once conscious, he refused their help,
torn open the wound, and bled to death.
By the early second century CE, the tale had morphed quite a bit, espe-
cially in the gifted hands of the philosopher and biographer Plutarch of
Chaeronea. According to him, Cato had determined on suicide long before
he committed the act. He refused help from anyone who suggested mak-
ing a deal with Caesar; in his view, that would be the behavior of a beggar
or a loser, while he regarded himself as the winner in a contest with Caesar
that had really been about honesty and justice rather than military might.
Having dutifully provided for the safety of the citizens of Utica and the
Romans among them, especially his personal friends, he again rejected his
lieutenant’s offer to intercede on his behalf before Caesar. As a subscriber
to the teachings of Stoicism, Cato believed that life in a world ruled by a
tyrant was no longer something rational, just, or virtuous, and, hence, not
Stoic. As a Roman senator, descended from so many who had fought for his
society’s traditions, he would have seen the success of Caesar as the return
of hated monarchy, and one that could not be overthrown; again, a true
Republican could not live with that - hence his advice to his young son not
to enter into politics, since it was no longer an honorable profession. After-
ward, he bathed and ate a last meal with his son and a few companions; the
description from Plutarch strongly reflects the closing scene of Socrates’s
life, whose suicide was the most famous in the Greco-Roman world, thanks
to Plato. To drive home the parallel, Plutarch says that philosophical dis-
cussion followed dinner; Cato’s input indicated to everyone his desire to
end his own life, and he tried to put them all at ease. Retiring to his room
to read, naturally, a book of Plato’s, Cato became angry when he realized
that the sword he usually kept there had been removed from the room. His
son and several others ran in to beg him not to do anything rash, to which
Cato replied that he could just as easily take his life by suffocating himself
or bashing his head against a wall. They could not stop him forever, espe-
cially if they had no logical arguments to give for surviving under Caesar’s
dominion. According to Plutarch, after some interrupted sleep, Cato took
up his sword (which had been returned to him by a servant) not long be-
fore dawn and plunged it into his abdomen. The blow did not finish the
job; Cato fell off the bed onto the floor, making enough noise that people
rushed in to see what had happened. As in the earliest account, his physi-
cian attempted to bind his wound but Cato thrust him aside and ripped
himself open afresh to hasten death.
Whichever way his suicide really took place (and the nature of the evi-
dence makes it difficult to determine how much of Plutarch’s story especially
792
is fact and how much exaggeration), nonetheless, for Cato, this much was
true: suicide was both a philosophical and a political statement of defiance
against the new world order. That interpretation of his death has echoed
through the centuries of Roman literature and beyond.
The Romans did value human life, despite the criticisms leveled at them
by Christian polemicists over the centuries, as well as by modern authors
in more recent times. They valued more highly, however, what we might
today define as one’s “quality of life.” For Roman citizens, especially those
of the upper classes, a life without law, without freedom, and especially
without honor was not worth the living. To be dominated and controlled
by others, to suffer endless disgrace, was to live no longer like a citizen, but
rather like a slave, and a slave’s life, therefore, counted for little. Hence, the
punishment of enslaving prisoners of war, who often shared these same val-
ues with the Romans, amounted to a “living death,” not so much because
of the hardships endured as because of the degradation suffered by the en-
slaved. Suicide, thus, restored freedom, honor, and identity.
See also: Ambiorix; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Army; Bru-
tus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Centuri-
ons; Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE); Honor; Juba (d. 46 BCE); Legions; Libertas/
Dominatio; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Plutarch’s Lives; Rex; Standards;
Utica
Further Reading
lishing.
Van Hooff, A.J.L. 1990. From Autothanasia to Suicide. London and New York:
Routledge.

L. Cornelius Sulla rose to prominence as the greatest rival of Marius (the
most famous new man in Roman history and uncle by marriage to Julius
Caesar). He set himself against many causes of the Populares in Rome,
thereby becoming a villain to them and a hero to their opponents, the Op-
timates. Engaging in war against foreign enemies and civil war with do-
mestic ones until he became undoubtedly the first man in the state, Sulla
developed a ruthless reputation and a sizable following among thousands
793
Drawing of Sulla from Myers’s

A General History for Colleges
and High Schools, 1896.
(Ridpath, John Clark, Ridpath’s
History of the World, 1901)
of Roman fighting men and hundreds of senators; as dictator, he reformed

the Republic according to his wishes, leaving in place a highly polarized po-
litical system that Caesar and his contemporaries quarreled over and even-
tually destroyed.
Sulla’s family, though of ancient lineage and patrician status, had achieved
relatively little political recognition over the generations. Something similar
could be said of Sulla himself; that is to say, he was not one of the “stars”
of Rome in his early days, except perhaps among actors, dancers, and mu-
sicians (whom Romans regarded as some of the lowest people in society),
with whom he spent (or wasted, as most of the elite would have seen it)
his younger years. He did not seem a man destined for a great military or
political career.
Three experiences changed all that. First, his friend, C. Marius, requested
his services as quaestor during the important war (107–105 BCE) against the
recalcitrant Jugurtha, king of Numidia (modern Algeria, south Tunisia, and
794
Libya). Sulla proved his mettle during this campaign, which explains why
Marius entrusted him, near its end, with the task of arresting Jugurtha, a
dangerous assignment that almost cost Sulla his own freedom; Jugurtha’s
father-in-law and ally, Bocchus, king of Mauretanian (modern Morocco),
debated for a while whether he should hand over his son-in-law or instead
seize Sulla as a bargaining chip. In the end, Bocchus chose to cooperate
with the Roman officer. Sulla became very arrogant about this success,
even claiming that his diplomatic skill had ended the war rather than Mar-
ius’s military strategies. Though Marius justly celebrated his triumphal vic-
tory on returning to Rome, Sulla famously had the image of the capture of
Jugurtha, with Bocchus on one side, himself seated in the center, and the
Numidian king bound behind him, carved onto his signet ring; over a de-
cade later, when Bocchus came to Rome on a diplomatic visit, the king also
commemorated the event by donating a group of life-size sculptures, almost
identical to the images on Sulla’s ring, to the Roman war monuments on the
Capitoline Hill. Sulla’s reputation, in the eyes of many who disliked or were
offended by Marius, began to compete with that of his former commander.
Second, from 96 to 92 BCE, the Roman Senate assigned Sulla procon-
sular powers to govern the province of Cilicia (southern coast of Turkey),
which had only recently been added to the Empire. There were troubles
brewing in the region: Rome’s ally King Mithradates VI of Pontus (north-
ern coast of Turkey) had been carrying out expansionist moves against his
neighbors, also allied kingdoms of Rome; the Romans continued to halt
him through diplomacy and military threats. Sulla again made a name for
himself by playing his part well in this policy in a variety of ways, including
installing a new ruler in the kingdom of Cappadocia (central Turkey), to-
tally loyal to Rome, and making overtures to the growing Parthian Empire
further east (roughly modern Iraq and Iran), the first time any Roman had
ever done so, to elicit their pressure against Mithradates as well.
Third, when Rome’s Italian allies rose up in rebellion against the em-
pire in 91 BCE, the so-called Social War, attempting to destroy the power
of Rome and establish their own hegemony in the peninsula, Sulla became
one of Rome’s saviors. He served as legate to two consuls, achieving dis-
tinction through his stunning victories over the rebel forces in southern
Italy, which opened the way to his capture and sacking of the rebel head-
quarters at Bovianum (modern Boiano).
As a result of his successes in North Africa, Asia Minor, and Italy itself,
Sulla’s star, after such a lackluster beginning in his youth, appeared to be
rising. He had fallen out with his old friend and commander Marius, which
made Sulla even more of a hero to those who hated Marius, like Marius’s
old commander and patron, Metellus; during the Social War, Sulla married
Metellus’s niece, Caecilia Metella, an arrangement meant to forge allies and
symbolize Sulla’s association with the “best” families of the Senate.
795
These families certainly supported his election to the consulship in 88

BCE, and he soon had an opportunity to prove that their trust in him was
well placed. In addition to continuing the war against those rebel forces
that had not yet been defeated, Sulla had to confront a radical plebeian tri-
bune, P. Sulpicius Rufus; the latter sought to reward with fair voting privi-
leges as Roman citizens those Italian populations who had surrendered or
been defeated. A grant of full citizenship had been made to such popula-
tions the year before, as a means of enticing rebels to lay down their arms,
but the thought of actually allowing all these Italians fully functional vot-
ing rights at Rome was still abhorrent to thousands of Roman citizens, es-
pecially to many members of the Roman elite. Besides, such a thing could,
overnight, provide to Sulpicius an enormous following.
Sulla, and his fellow consul, Q. Pompeius Rufus, representing the in-
terests of the “old” citizens and opposition senators, used constitutional
means to stand in the way of Sulpicius’s proposal. The latter seems to have
been ready for this move; his countermove was to bring in to the Roman
Forum a mass of armed men, most of them supporters of Marius, to in-
timidate the consuls and force the vote on his plan. The great Marius had
come out of apparent retirement to throw his backing behind Sulpicius
for personal reasons: to bring down his former friend Sulla and to steal
from him the assignment which the Senate had granted, a military cam-
paign against King Mithradates of Pontus (once business in Italy had been
wrapped up).
Indeed, Sulpicius’s followers did chase the consuls from the Forum and
caused so much panic in the city that Sulla even went to Marius privately,
asking him to rein in Sulpicius. Failing in this, the dejected Sulla, none-
theless, soon gained the upper hand. Fleeing southward from the city for
the town of Nola, he convinced the Roman garrison stationed there to
join him in restoring not only his own honor but also law and order in the
state. Together, they marched on Rome and made attempts to storm the
city, the first time in history Roman troops had turned on their own capi-
tal. Outmaneuvering and overwhelming the defensive forces assembled by
Marius, Sulla gained control of Rome, imposed martial law, and went so far
as to declare Sulpicius and his associates, including Marius, public enemies
(hostes in Latin), to be hunted down and killed. This, indeed, was Sulpi-
cius’s fate, while Marius escaped into exile. Having arranged matters to his
liking, Sulla set off for Asia Minor and his showdown with Mithradates.
Over the next three years, Sulla made relatively quick work of the cam-
paign against Mithradates’s generals, then occupying Greece, much of
which was devastated in the process. The loyalty of the king’s allies in Ath-
ens led to the brutal Roman siege and sacking of that city; Sulla’s victo-
ries at Chaeronea and Orchomenos, and the successes of his fleet, allowed
him to secure Greece for the Roman Empire and proceed to Asia Minor
in pursuit of Mithradates himself. The latter was already under pressure
796
from another Roman general, Fimbria, who had been sent out from Rome
to rival Sulla; Mithradates recognized the wisdom in negotiating with one
against the other and found Sulla more accommodating. Meeting face to
face in northwestern Turkey, Sulla compelled the king to give up all con-
quered lands, part of his fleet, and pay a war indemnity. After all the trouble
the king had caused for Rome, he got off relatively easy because Sulla really
wanted to turn his efforts against his Roman opponents, first Fimbria, who
was basically compelled to commit suicide, and then the leader in Rome
who had dispatched Fimbria, L. Cornelius Cinna, Julius Caesar’s father-
in-law.
In Sulla’s absence, Rome and many of its provinces had come under the
control of Cinna and his faction. He had taken up the cause of the new Ital-
ian citizens at the conclusion of the Social War; he had been forced to flee
the city, and like Sulla, had gained the allegiance of Roman troops to re-
store himself to power. Allied to Marius (until the latter’s death) and other
Populares, building up massive popular and equestrian support, as well as
sizable backing within the Senate, Cinna dominated the government of
Rome as consul four consecutive times (87–84 BCE).
Sulla vowed to destroy Cinna’s regime; on his return to Italy, he found
Cinna already dead (in a mutiny), but thousands of troops assembled by the
leaders of his faction, including the son of Marius. Yet another Civil War
took place, an all-out struggle for power between two sides with very dif-
ferent visions of the Republic. Through his own clever diplomacy and his
army’s skill and experience, Sulla emerged victorious after two hard, bloody
years of fighting across Italy. In the aftermath, some of his surviving ene-
mies he forced into exile, hundreds of others he proscribed, while still oth-
ers he stripped of their own and their families’ civic rights. His henchmen
among the senatorial aristocracy confiscated the property of these victims,
making themselves amazingly wealthy overnight.
Since both consuls had died resisting Sulla, the surviving senators
reverted to the ancient practice of appointing an interrex (“temporary
king”), an official who for five days had consular imperium and could
in turn appoint a dictator; in 81 BCE, this dictator was Sulla. But instead
of the typical six-month term, he was granted unlimited time in office
“to write laws and restore the Republic.” With this legitimate, unprec-
edented authority, Sulla first arranged legal immunity for all his actions,
past and future. Then, to prevent further civil strife and to maintain
tight, conservative control of the state from within the Senate, he de-
creed a number of laws, not wholly new in concept, but systematized,
some highly politicized and others long-lived because of their broad ben-
efits to the state.
To weaken the powers of and make less attractive the office of plebe-
ian tribune, he debarred tribunes from initiating legislation without Sen-
ate approval, from using their veto power without the cooperation of a
797
magistrate with imperium, and from standing for any further offices. He
disqualified equestrians (who had backed Marius and Cinna) from serv-
ing as judges in the Roman law courts, restoring full control to senators,
part of a redesigning of the legal system of Rome. But to staff these courts
he needed more senators, so he enrolled favorable equestrians as sena-
tors, increasing the size of the Senate to perhaps 600. To confine offices
in duration and sequence and to maintain adequate supply of officials for
provincial and judicial duties, Sulla reasserted age limits for magistrates,
intervals between offices, prerequisite offices, and raised the number of
some offices. Last, though he recognized the citizenship granted to the
Italian rebels and the fair voting rights of these new citizens arranged by
the government of Cinna, very few of them were actually registered to
vote, since he carried out no census as dictator; they were effectively dis-
enfranchised.
For reasons that scholars still wonder about, Sulla stepped down from his
dictatorship at the end of 81 BCE, leaving the State under the control of his
“restored” Senate. Elected consul for the following year, he finally retired in
79 BCE to his lavish villa in southern Italy, to a life of leisure and strange plea-
sures, if we believe some of the ancient biographers. Upon his death from ill-
ness at the age of sixty in the next year, Sulla received a lavish state funeral and
burial in the Campus Martius, a symbol of the power and legitimacy of his
new regime.
Perhaps the most significant thing to remember about Sulla was that
he could not banish his own example: he did not negotiate with his po-
litical enemies, nor beat them at the polls, nor really work within the sys-
tem, but destroyed his domestic opponents with the aid of a client army
devoted to himself. He left behind as his legacy an ambitious, competi-
tive Roman aristocracy widely stained with blood, as well as many oppo-
nents who sought revenge for losses or injuries suffered at his hands. His
restored Republic only had legitimacy because its creators had been the
stronger; this suggested that anyone might create their own version of it
by force. Over the following fifty years, “defending the Republic,” as Sulla
had claimed to do, became a slogan, the pretext for achieving one’s per-
sonal goals at any price.
See also: Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Citizenship; Courts; Dictator; Hostis;
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Mithradates VI
(134–63 BCE); Optimates; Parthia; Populares; Proscriptions; Suicide
Further Reading
Keaveney, K. 1982. Sulla: The Last Republican. London and New York: Routledge.
798
Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE)

Faustus Cornelius Sulla, son of the famous dictator L. Cornelius Sulla, not
only revered his father’s memory but also inherited his father’s enemies, es-
pecially Julius Caesar.
Young Faustus lost his father in 78 BCE and his mother, Caecilia Metella,
three years before that; he and his twin sister, Fausta, were still younger
than ten years old, so what they knew of Sulla, and especially of his politi-
cal policies and reputation, came primarily filtered through the eyes of oth-
ers, supporters or opponents, perhaps especially from their guardian, Sulla’s
lieutenant, L. Licinius Lucullus.
Faustus seems to have inherited some of his father’s traits and had been
inculcated with a pride in his father’s accomplishments. The story cir-
culated that, as a boy, Faustus attempted to lord it over his peers and
boast about his father’s power, as though he had the same, that is, until
the equally young Cassius Longinus (future assassin of Caesar) got into a
schoolyard fight with him and threatened him to never again behave like
a “tyrant” unless he wished another punch in the mouth. Years later, as a
military hero freshly returned from campaigns under Pompey the Great in
the East (where the young man especially made a name for himself in Ju-
daea), Faustus honored his father’s memory with gladiatorial games, gifts
to the citizenry of olive oil and tokens for the public bathhouses, as well
as coins minted with images celebrating his father’s achievements. The
Senate also affirmed the link between father and son a few years after that
by conferring upon Faustus the honor of restoring the Senate House (the
Curia Hostilia, burned down in mob violence), which Sulla himself had
remodeled two decades earlier.
Faustus shared his father’s distrust of Julius Caesar, though for many
reasons of his own. Not only had Caesar blatantly defied his father, only
barely escaping destruction in the latter’s famous proscriptions, but also,
after Sulla’s death, Caesar set out to resurrect the memory of those whom
the dictator had destroyed (especially Marius, Caesar’s uncle by marriage,
and Cinna, his father-in-law), to recall those whom he had exiled (like
Cinna’s son), and to reverse many of his repressive measures. Faustus
found himself either too young or too far away from Rome (with Pom-
pey’s army) to do anything personally against Caesar’s moves. On top of
all of this, a few years after Faustus’s return to Rome, Caesar insulted him
directly by attempting to steal for himself Pompey’s only daughter, Pom-
peia, who was engaged at the time to Faustus; Caesar sought the marriage
for political purposes, not out of affection, and it was, in fact, the sec-
ond time he had interfered with Pompeia’s betrothal to Faustus (having
previously attempted to marry her off to Servilius Caepio). Fortunately
for Faustus, Pompey refused the match between Pompeia and Caesar and
799
forged the planned link between his family and that of Sulla, his old com-
mander. As a result of this connection, if Pompey should have suffered loss
of honor or position at Caesar’s hands, it would have reflected badly on
Faustus as well.
On the seventh of January 49 BCE, the Roman Senate passed its ultimate
decree (the senatus consultum ultimum) against Caesar, ordering the mag-
istrates and military commanders to do whatever they deemed necessary
to defend the Republic against him. In the days following, as the Senate
held further meetings to discuss matters of military preparation, a motion
was presented to send Faustus Sulla as soon as possible as an envoy to the
kingdom of Mauretania (roughly today’s Morocco and northern Algeria),
which had been allied to Rome since the late second century BCE. At the
time of the Senate’s motion, two rulers governed the country, Bogud in the
west and Bocchus II in the east. As the sons of Bocchus I, they no doubt
owed some debt of clientship to the family of Sulla, who had begun the al-
liance with their father when the latter assisted the Romans in capturing
Jugurtha, the famous king of Numidia (at its height roughly comprising to-
day’s northern Algeria and northern Libya). Supporters of the proposal to
send Faustus to the sons of Bocchus likely hoped to capitalize on this con-
nection and gain the support of Mauretania in the war against Caesar. The
motion was vetoed, however, by one of the plebeian tribunes, L. Marcius
Philippus the Younger, who happened, not coincidentally, to be related to
Caesar by marriage. Bocchus II and Bogud, in fact, eventually threw their
weight behind Caesar’s cause.
Two years later, Faustus would, indeed, make the journey to North
Africa, but, in the meantime, he saw to the recruiting of soldiers in Italy
for Pompey’s army, given authority to do so by the Senate as proquaestor
(having held the quaestorship five years earlier); Pompey wanted him to
take those troops to Sicily, as part of the consular forces intended to gar-
rison that province against Caesar. This disposition never took place and,
instead, like many other supporters of Pompey’s cause, he accompanied
the latter to Greece. Cicero, one of Pompey’s oldest friends, regarded
Faustus as perhaps just as dangerous as his father had been, prepared
to do anything to his fellow citizens once victory for his side had been
achieved.
That victory did not happen, as Pompey was eventually defeated by Cae-
sar at the Battle of Pharsalus in the summer of 48 BCE. Fleeing from Greece
afterward, Faustus participated in the efforts of the remaining Pompeians
to utilize North Africa as a new base of operations against Caesar. By the
spring of 46 BCE, Caesar emerged victorious there also, in the Battle of
Thapsus over those forces under the command of Metellus Scipio, Pom-
pey’s father-in-law. Faustus, stationed at the city of Utica with M. Por-
cius Cato, another of Caesar’s die-hard opponents, faced the question of
800
whether to continue the fight, surrender, or take some other course of ac-
tion. In the meantime, however, he and Cato had the difficult task of pre-
venting Scipio’s cavalry, running amok after their defeat at Caesar’s hands,
from slaughtering everyone in the town, suspected of favoring Caesar’s
side. After attempting to plead with the troopers, who had pretty thor-
oughly sacked Utica, Faustus and Cato bribed them to stop their violence;
this worked, and Faustus assumed command of the cavalry and left Utica.
He disregarded the possibility of surrendering to Caesar and receiving par-
don, since he evidently believed that his execution would be the actual out-
come of such a course of action. Instead, he headed for Numidian territory
where he hoped to combine forces with King Juba I, another of Caesar’s
enemies.
This was not to happen, because Juba had already committed suicide to
avoid the humiliation of capture by Caesar’s army. That force was roam-
ing Numidia now, as were the forces of Caesar’s ally Bocchus II under their
mercenary commander, the Roman P. Sittius. The latter discovered the ap-
proach of Faustus, together with another old-time Pompeian commander,
L. Afranius, and their thousand or so troopers. Sittius set a successful am-
bush for them, killing or capturing almost the entire contingent; he even
managed to catch Afranius and Faustus alive. They did not remain that way
for long, though, as hot tempers among the Caesarians led to some sort
of brawl in which both commanders lost their lives. Faustus’s children and
wife, Pompeia, were kept safe, and Caesar ordered their return to Rome
under a full pardon.
Though his parents had named him “lucky” or “auspicious” (the mean-
ing of the word faustus in Latin) to commemorate Sulla’s successful career,
luck never seemed to really follow the son of Sulla. At every turn suffering
some sort of setback or defeat, his parentage, in fact, doomed him to a life
of trouble and eventual destruction.
See also: Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Curia; Juba (d.
46 BCE); Libya/Numidia; Lucullus (118–57 BCE); Patrons and Clients;
Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Senatus Consul-
tum Ultimum (SCU); Suicide; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Thapsus, Battle
of (46 BCE)
Further Reading
sity Press.
Foster, H. B. 2010. Dio’s Roman History in Six Volumes. Alvin, TX: Halcyon
Press Ltd.
801
Keaveney, K. 1982. Sulla: The Last Republican. London and New York: Routledge.
lishing.
802
T
Taxation/Tax Farming
Tax revenue fueled Roman expansion and the maintenance of their empire.
In the time of Julius Caesar, the Roman State collected direct taxes on land
(tributum soli) and on income (tributum capitis), and indirect taxes (vecti-
galia) and duties (e.g., the portoria) from the empire in a variety of ways,
but especially through tax farming.
Before 167 BCE, all Roman citizens contributed to the tributum or war
tax, which helped cover expenses in defending Roman territory and occu-
pying or settling the territory of conquered enemies; one of the main pur-
poses of developing the census in the fifth century BCE had been so the state
could assess the amount of tribute payable by each Roman citizen. In addi-
tion to using tribute, of course, Roman armies also paid the costs of warfare
by confiscating enemy land, which became ager publicus (public land) to be
sold or rented to Roman citizens, and other forms of property, which then
fell into the category of spolia or loot to be distributed among the troops
as a form of payment for services rendered and to be stored in the various
treasuries (temples) of Rome for future uses of state.
What changed in 167 BCE was that the Roman general, Aemilius Pau-
lus, conquered the Kingdom of Macedon in northern Greece, and its royal
treasury fell into Rome’s hands. This loot was vast enough for the Roman
Senate to decide that citizens (if they lived in Italy or in official Roman
colonies in the provinces) no longer needed to contribute to the war tax.
Instead, only the provincial subjects of Rome would be responsible for
this tax.
Some of the provincials had already been paying the tribute for gen-
erations; these were the so-called stipendiary communities (named for the
stipendium or soldier’s pay). A number of towns and cities across the em-
pire paid no tribute to Rome; these were known as immune communities
(from immunitas, meaning exemption) and were often also known as free
communities (i.e., operating under their own laws and customs with little
Roman intrusion). To be granted freedom and immunity by Rome des-
ignated a special status, a relationship of trust and friendship (or at least
above-average collaboration) with the empire. Most communities did not
fall into this category and, hence, had to pay tribute.
The Romans employed two methods for collecting this stipendium. In
the Spanish provinces, Illyricum, Macedon-Achaea, and Africa, they placed
a fixed annual sum on the entire province; each community within the
province was required to contribute its quota of this annual sum, which
was collected by the local officials and then handed over to the Roman
quaestor, the governor’s financial assistant. In the provinces of Sicily and
Asia, the Romans demanded one-tenth of the annual agricultural produce
of the province (called a decuma). The combined province of the islands of
805
Relief showing the payment of Roman taxes. From a Gallo-Roman tomb in Neuma-
gen, Germany, early third century CE. (Bettmann/Corbis)
Sardinia and Corsica was a special case: because of the constant resistance to
the Roman presence there during the Republic, provincials were required
to pay the decuma and the stipendium.
The decuma was not collected by local officials, who would or might
have at least some of the local population’s trust, but instead by private
businessmen, known as tax-farmers, hired by the Roman Senate. In Sicily,
these tax-farmers were at least local residents, but in Sardinia-Corsica and
especially Asia, businessmen from Rome itself and the rest of Italy came out
to “farm” the tax. They belonged to major companies, as we would call
them today, known as societates publicanorum.
Societates (from the Latin word socius, meaning partner or ally) were
joint-stock partnerships built up by shareholders, who followed the rules
set by their guiding board of directors (magistri), including a chief direc-
tor (manceps). Most of the societates in the Roman Empire consisted of
men engaged in commerce (negotiatores) or banking (argentarii), and they
made quite a bit of profit from buying, selling, and investing in Rome’s
growing empire. But even considerable commercial ventures were never as
profitable as tax collection, and so the companies engaged in that activity
were the largest and most important politically and financially.
These were the societates publicanorum mentioned earlier, the companies
of publicani or publicans, as we say in English, the very wealthy members
of the equestrian order who together took out public contracts from the
Roman Senate. We might call them “government contractors.” Rome’s
massive building projects were carried out by these private companies,
as was the construction of the largest roads of the empire, and they also
806
provided supplies and logistical support to Rome’s military forces on cam-

paign. Tax-farming was their biggest business.
The Roman censors (or sometimes other magistrates), working in close
consultation with the entire Senate, would publicize government contracts
for tax collection, say for taxes in the province of Asia. These contracts were
very standardized legal agreements, with specialized clauses added if neces-
sary; they specified the dates of the contract, government rights to inspect
the company’s processes, even an indemnity clause against unforeseen di-
saster, enemy attack, and so on. Most importantly, they stipulated how
much in taxes the state expected to receive from the province in a given
time frame; this was calculated based on an estimate of the province’s agri-
cultural productivity in that time frame, since the tax was actually one-tenth
(decuma) of the harvest.
The manceps of a publican partnership would register with the state trea-
sury and bid against other companies on the taxing contract; if the state
selected his company, he and his partners would either pay upfront the
stipulated amount of the tithe in its cash equivalent or offer land as security,
and then were authorized to collect the actual tithe of the harvest from the
provincials within the specified time frame of the contract. The publicans
were tacitly allowed to collect more than the stipulated amount to cover
operating costs and to make a tidy profit. In fact, profits were enormous
and corruption was rampant.
Publicans also collected the taxes or rents (vectigalia) on Roman ager
publicus, which included not only farmland leased to Roman settlers but
also salt-pans, silver, gold, and iron mines, and so on; they collected cus-
toms duties (portoria) as well, especially in the harbors of Italy but also else-
where in the empire.
Successful publican companies had staffs of hundreds of slaves and freed-
men and branch offices in various towns of the empire; they were so com-
plex that they could act as overseas banks, moving money by drafts from
one branch to another, and as a private postal service, through their couriers
who were even rented by government officials. Some publican companies
became so important that they attained recognition as legal entities (corpo-
res) freed from the normal restrictions of Roman commercial law. Extremely
competitive, they seldom formed cartels until the very Late Republic.
Caesar’s associate and later chief rival, Pompey, extended the collection
of taxes by publicani when he added the kingdoms of Bithynia, Pontus,
and Syria to the empire as provinces. This was a heated issue in Caesar’s
day, since many senators, and certainly many provincial leaders, recognized
the level of rapacity and unfairness in the tax-farming establishment. When
Pompey’s predecessor, Lucullus, had been conducting military campaigns
in Asia Minor, he had flatly refused to allow the publican companies from
the province of Asia to extend their business operations into the other
807
territories to the east; indeed, he angered the publicani by bringing tax re-
lief to the towns of Asia through reworking their installment payments and
reducing the interest they owed on back-taxes. This is why the publicani
loved Pompey, and Pompey, in his turn, used them for political support.
Another of Pompey’s rivals, Crassus, represented to the Senate the inter-
ests of many publicani in the province of Asia when they had bid too much
for the tax-collecting contracts there, expecting very good harvests, and
consequently, very good revenues. When the harvest had not been so good,
the publicani, through Crassus, begged the Senate to modify the terms of
the tax contracts to account for the difference and save them from bank-
ruptcy. The Senate insisted that the publicani would not be reimbursed for
their losses; their tax contracts would not be readjusted. Caesar as consul
later nullified and hence reversed that decision, in favor of the publicani.
Pompey’s friend Cicero tangled with the publicani, when he served as
governor of Cilicia (southern Turkey) in 51–50 BCE. In writing to his close
friend Atticus he described the several months he spent in various districts
of the province listening to popular complaints and arbitrating disputes
over unfair or harsh taxes; he observed clearly that many people could not
pay the mandatory tribute and that several communities had gone bankrupt
trying to pay what the publicani demanded. Since Cicero was a conscien-
tious administrator, he was concerned to redress these problems, and since
many of the publicani were friends or related to friends of his, he was in the
position to handle the tax issues through personal negotiation.
The Civil War between Pompey and Caesar significantly altered the posi-
tion of the tax-farmers; they found their stores of money and treasure con-
fiscated by the competing armies. Then, Caesar, as dictator in the 40s BCE,
engaged in tax reform. In the provinces of Asia and Sicily, he replaced farm-
ing the tithe of agricultural produce with the collection of a stipendium on
land similar to our modern property tax; in other provinces where publicani
still worked as tax collectors, he restricted their activities and reduced the
amount of tax they could collect. Caesar handed over more and more tax-
collecting responsibility (and accountability) to local government officials
and their agents in place of the Roman publicani. Taxation remained cru-
cial to the empire’s survival, but as Rome shifted to rule by one man, so did
taxation shift into a more streamlined, less corrupt process.
See also: Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Equites;
Pompey (106–48 BCE); Provinces; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Badian, E. 1983. Publicans and Sinners. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Brunt, P. A. 1990. Roman Imperial Themes. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
Cottier, M. 2009. The Customs Laws of Asia. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
808
Temple of Castor and Pollux

During the Republic, one of the most impressive and most ancient reli-
gious edifices in the heart of Rome was the Temple of Castor and Pollux.
Its rather minimal ruins still figure as a focus of attention for tourists wan-
dering through the Roman Forum today. In Caesar’s time, the temple fig-
ured as an important focus of citizens and magistrates engaged in heated
politics.
Early in its history, Roman society adopted worship of Castor and Pollux
from the Greek colonies of southern Italy. The Greeks told stories about
them as devoted twin brothers, masters of horsemanship, as mortal heroes,
and sometimes as one mortal and the other immortal. This latter connec-
tion gained them the nickname Dioscuri, meaning basically “sons of Zeus.”
Indeed, according to some of the earliest myths regarding them, they ac-
quired from Zeus either the privilege of sharing immortality (which meant
spending some of their time in the underworld as compensation) or of al-
ternately living every other day. They, therefore, symbolized such values
Ruins of the Temple of Castor and Pollux in the Roman Forum. Vowed in 499 BCE
and dedicated fifteen years later, this sacred building honored the twin gods of
horsemanship, protectors of the Roman cavalry. Officials once made speeches and
swore their oaths of allegiance here; some, like the consuls of Rome, used the temple
as their headquarters. (Sergey Belov/Dreamstime.com)
809
as brotherly affection and appreciation for the brevity and preciousness of

life, themes prominent in Roman culture and thus appealing to Roman
sensibilities; certainly, their being adventurous twins helped as well, since
the Romans always had a special fondness for rambunctious twin boys, as
evidenced in their own foundation story of Romulus and Remus. Even the
way in which the brothers deferred to one another to accomplish great
things would have appealed to the Romans, since their own Romulus and
Remus so notoriously disagreed with one another, sowing the seeds of civil
strife into Roman society; one might suspect that Castor and Pollux pro-
vided some sort of antidote to this by symbolizing loyalty and camaraderie.
Finally, the common image of them as young, larger-than-life, male figures
found parallels in the Roman Lares, guardian spirits of the home and the
city, often conceived of in the same way.
Spartan and Athenian traditions heralded Castor and Pollux as divine
entities who appeared when needed to rescue the devout from danger. Ac-
cording to Roman tradition, they did just that during the fierce Battle of
Lake Regillus, inspiring the Roman cavalry (which was the main arm of the
Roman military at that time) to victory against their Etruscan and Latin
enemies; they also appeared in the Roman Forum not long after to an-
nounce the Roman success to an anxious Roman populace. The Roman
commander, A. Postumius Albinus, vowed to construct a temple in honor
of the brother gods at the site where they were seen in the Forum; Albi-
nus’s son dedicated that temple in 484 BCE. Archaeological investigation
proves that, from about that very time, a large Temple of Castor and Pollux
indeed stood in the southeastern section of the Forum Romanum as one of
the most prominent religious edifices of the city.
Restored several times over the generations, the Temple of Castor and
Pollux evolved into a more architecturally grand structure. The Romans
built the original in a modified Etruscan or Italic style. This called for a
substructure or podium of volcanic rock known as tufa, about six feet high,
topped by a rectangular superstructure or cella of the same materials but
smaller in surface area; this was the actual shrine to the gods, approached
by a flight of steps that sloped down into the open plaza of the Roman
Forum. Only priests and their attendants entered the shrine, which prob-
ably housed a statue pair of the Heavenly Twins. Outside, wooden columns
would have been erected to support the angled, wooden roof, but with a
twist; instead of being placed along the front only, which was typical of
Etruscan/Italic style temples, these columns were also positioned on the
left and right sides of the shrine, leaving a small passage between the col-
umns and the walls.
The Temple of Castor and Pollux underwent a major renovation in
117 BCE. The podium and cella were enlarged in width and height and the
old wooden columns were replaced with taller stone ones, now also at the
810
rear of the shrine. Hence, it became a much more imposing edifice. At the
same time, a rostra or speaker’s platform was incorporated into the tall po-
dium of the temple, which thus projected outward into the space of the
Forum from the facade of columns at the temple’s entrance.
Magistrates swore their oaths of office at the Temple of Castor and Pol-
lux; inside its substructures was the state office of weights and measures; the
Senate held some of its meetings inside the temple itself and out in front of
the building; and, understandably, the equestrian order of Rome, who re-
garded the Dioscuri as their special patrons, paraded in recognition of their
honors and privileges every July. The consuls had their headquarters there,
commonly holding consultations in full public view and issuing edicts from
their curule chairs on the rostra at the entrance to the temple; crowds of
citizens had plenty of space to stand out in front of the temple, where they
frequently heard the orations of such magistrates on various matters and as-
sembled in formal gatherings called contiones to receive the announcement
of proposals for new laws.
Not surprisingly, the Temple of Castor and Pollux was the scene of
much political activity, and some of the most violent, of the Late Republic.
It was from there that the consul Sulla was dislodged by political enemies
in 88 BCE and ordered the execution of trouble-making subordinates as
dictator in 81 BCE. Julius Caesar’s father-in-law, L. Cornelius Cinna, was
driven away from the Temple of Castor and Pollux by his rival consul, Cn.
Octavius, in 87 BCE. In the gang violence of the 50s BCE between Milo and
Clodius, the latter’s opponent, Sestius, riddled with dagger wounds, took
refuge inside the temple. During his consulship, Caesar often addressed
the voters from the temple, and Caesar’s consular colleague, and rival, M.
Bibulus, referred to Caesar as “Castor”; Bibulus found himself constantly
eclipsed by Caesar, just as Pollux found himself eclipsed by Castor, since
Romans traditionally called the temple simply aedes Castorum or Castor’s
Temple.
See also: Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Clodius (d.
52 BCE); Forum Romanum; Milo (d. 48 BCE); Religion, Roman; Sulla (ca.
138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Books.
811
Tenth Legion
versity Press.
versity Press.
Tenth Legion
It appears that with Julius Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul (roughly France, Bel-
gium, southwestern Holland, Luxemburg, and western Germany today)
began the tradition of numbering the legions of the Roman army. Among
those designated units organized by Caesar was the Tenth Legion, the most
favored by him for the bravery and excellence of its soldiers.
The first recorded notice of the Tenth Legion comes from Caesar’s own
Bellum Gallicum, his commentaries on the wars waged by him in Gaul, in
Pillar commemorating the

Tenth Roman Legion in the
arcade of the Citadel Hotel,
Jerusalem. This monument
actually refers to the reconsti-
tuted Tenth Legion that served
the Roman emperors rather
than the original created by
Julius Caesar. Still, it reminds us
of the longevity of the Tenth
Legion’s reputation as
a crack fighting force. (Library
of Congress)
812
Tenth Legion
Modern re-enactment of a
battle between the Romans and
the Asturians (Carabanzo,
Asturias, Spain—August 21,
2011). The banner carried by
the soldier refers to the reconsti-
tuted Tenth Legion created by
the Emperor Augustus. (Stock-
PhotoAstur/Dreamstime.com)
58 BCE, when he was about to face the forces of the German warlord, Ario-
vistus, who had crossed the Rhine River into Gallic territory. Caesar’s com-
manders, his lieutenants, and many of his soldiers had expressed fear at the
prospect of fighting against German warriors. In response, he called upon
the Tenth Legion to march with him if none of the other legions had the
stomach for a fight; Caesar declared in a speech to all the troops that he had
complete faith in the Tenth Legion, especially in their loyalty, so much so
that he would count on the entire unit, as if it were a commander’s body-
guard, to protect him during the ensuing battle with Ariovistus. (Indeed,
during negotiations with the enemy, Caesar replaced his bodyguard of Gal-
lic cavalrymen with members of the Tenth Legion.)
Caesar used the Tenth Legion, then, as an example to the rest of his
forces; its troops were delighted at Caesar’s confidence in them and grateful
for his words of praise. In fact, the officers of the legion conveyed a mes-
sage of thanks to him for the honor he had shown them all. This infuriated
the troops of the other legions, who pushed their commanders to join in
the expedition against Ariovistus and to apologize publicly to Caesar for
813
Tenth Legion
conveying any notion that they might not be as ready as the Tenth Legion
to stand up against the Germans. Caesar’s small effort at group psychology
had paid off.
In the following year, while campaigning against the Belgae, a confed-
eracy of Gallo-Germanic tribes (i.e., inhabiting northeastern Gaul but con-
sisting mainly of peoples who had migrated across the Rhine River from
Germany), the Tenth Legion again proved itself. In the thick forests in-
habited by one of the most powerful of those tribes, the Nervii, Caesar’s
army found itself caught off-guard by a daring surprise attack. The Tenth
Legion came to the forefront of the action without any hesitation, ahead
even of Caesar himself; he only needed to give slight encouragement that
they maintain their calm against the enemy onslaught. During the attack,
the Tenth Legion met the charge of warriors from the Atrebates, driving
them down a hill first with spears, followed up with hand-to-hand combat
of swords; they were assisted in this by the Ninth Legion, another of Cae-
sar’s best.
These two legions were among those entrusted to Caesar’s principal leg-
ate, T. Labienus, and it was he who decided to send the Tenth Legion
back into the thickest part of the battle, on the right wing, where the Sev-
enth and Twelfth Legions, and Caesar himself, were hardest pressed by
the Nervii; both of the latter units had suffered heavy casualties, as they
found themselves quickly surrounded by the Nervian warriors, who also
pushed the Roman cavalry out of position. Caesar attempted to rally his
men by throwing himself personally into the thick of the fighting, and that
was when the men of the Tenth Legion raced to his rescue, charging down
upon the enemy. By carrying out such a slaughter getting to Caesar’s place
in the battle lines that the Nervian momentum began to slow, the Tenth
Legion was instrumental on this occasion not only for saving the lives of its
commander in chief and thousands of other comrades, but also for bolster-
ing the spirits of the rest of the Roman force, inspiring them to take heart,
turn back the enemy, and, indeed, smash them; the Nervii, holding their
ground, suffered near-total destruction as a result.
Two years later, in 55 BCE, Caesar launched an expedition across the sea
into Britain, the southern tribes there having strategically dangerous links
with the Belgae of northern Gaul. Landing on the shores of the island
proved very difficult, considering that the native warriors had been warned
of the Roman arrival and had taken up positions along the shoreline where
the Romans needed to disembark from their ships. Even after Caesar’s
warships bombarded the enemy with all sorts of missiles, the latter pulled
back only slightly from the shoreline, causing hesitation among the Roman
troops, who needed to jump into the water and then wade to shore, and
were not at all confident that the Britons would allow that to happen with-
out an attack. Here, again, the Tenth Legion met the challenge head on,
814
Tenth Legion
or, more particularly, the aquilifer, the standard bearer of the whole legion,
did so. He plunged into the water, holding the eagle standard high above
his head, and called out to his comrades in the Tenth Legion that they must
join him or watch the sacred symbol of their unit fall to the enemy. They
refused to let that happen, and so followed the aquilifer to shore, and, of
course, as the Tenth Legion did, so, too, did the other legions in rapid suc-
cession. The warriors of Britain soon had a fierce battle on their hands, a
battle they would lose.
Three years later, the Gallic chieftain, Vercingetorix, led a widespread
and massive uprising against Roman domination in Gaul. One of Caesar’s
military challenges to Vercingetorix was the siege of the Gallic stronghold
at Gergovia, during which the Roman commander rode with the Tenth Le-
gion. While other units of his army proved reckless and beyond control (in
the troubling circumstances resulting from a failed assault on and a difficult
siege of the fortress on the high plateau), the Tenth Legion maintained its
cool. When the enemy drove in upon the Roman soldiers, forcing them
down in confusion from the heights of Gergovia, the Tenth came in to hold
them and prevented a full-on routing of the Roman forces.
So, the Gallic Wars tested and proved the mettle of Caesar’s Tenth Le-
gion. The Civil War between Caesar and his political enemies presented
yet more opportunities for that unit to shine. For example, in the sum-
mer of 48 BCE, at the Battle of Pharsalus against his chief rival, Pompey,
Caesar placed his lieutenants in charge of his other legions while he chose
to command the Tenth Legion himself. That unit would hold steady his
right wing, which faced off against the enemy’s left, where Pompey himself
was positioned. Interestingly, Pompey had direct command of two legions
which Caesar had handed over to him for a proposed campaign against
Parthia (the empire that dominated the Middle East at that time); Caesar
saw this and deliberately chose to put the Tenth Legion up against these
old comrades. Perhaps he believed that the men of the Tenth Legion could
handle these former Caesarians better than any other of his troops could or
perhaps he counted on those former Caesarians to fold at the sight of the
Tenth Legion.
Within the Tenth Legion were many men who had served Caesar cou-
rageously and reliably for years, including the well-known veteran centu-
rion, Crastinus, who had served a year earlier as the senior centurion, the
primipilus, of the Tenth Legion. At this later time, he seems to have been
a re-enlisted man, who could have stayed home in Italy but had chosen in-
stead to join up again for what he regarded as the battle-to-end-all-battles
in the Civil War. This, at least, is what he shouted out to his comrades of
the Tenth Legion, while also calling out for Caesar to watch a veteran like
himself do amazing things in the fight for his commanding officer. Crasti-
nus then charged at the enemy faster than anyone else, leading a picked
815
Tenth Legion
company of 120 other veterans of his legion, and died heroically (and grue-
somely) in the thick of the fighting, after having cut through the first rank
of the opposition. Such men made up the Tenth Legion.
The Tenth Legion did not always serve Caesar with distinction, how-
ever. A little more than one year after Pharsalus, while he still had military
adversaries to confront in North Africa, the Tenth Legion rioted in the city
of Rome, bringing terror to the civilian population there. The reason was
their desire for retirement after so many years of service to Caesar; they also
wanted the bonuses which he had promised them. Caesar’s friends advised
him to avoid confronting the legionaries in their highly agitated state, but
he refused to hide from his own men, or to put up with their bad behav-
ior. He delivered an address to them, reprimanding them severely, and, in
contrast to his usual practice, referred to them as “citizens” instead of as
“fellow soldiers.” This more than anything shamed the men of the Tenth
Legion, who shouted out to their commander that they were not “mere
civilians” but “his troops,” and they asked to be given the chance to prove
themselves to him once more by serving in the North African campaign
against his enemies. Caesar refused to grant them this chance; he simply
could not trust the Tenth Legion at this point. In addition, he withheld
one-third of their bonuses, including land and money, from the most trou-
blesome soldiers of the legion.
The absence of the Tenth Legion from among his forces in North Africa
did not escape the notice of his opponents there, including his old lieuten-
ant, Labienus, who, as noted earlier, had commanded the Tenth Legion on
occasion during the Gallic Wars; Labienus had joined Pompey’s side when
the Civil War began. When harassing Caesar’s troops, as Roman command-
ers often did to their foes as part of psychological warfare, he insulted, and
attempted to frighten, the Caesarians as mere recruits in grave danger. One
of Caesar’s men in the front line, however, shouted back at Labienus that
he was not a recruit but a veteran of the Tenth Legion. Labienus, then,
tried to cast another insult by asking, provocatively, where the rest of that
legion was, especially its battle standards, which were obviously not there,
owing to Caesar’s punishment of the unit. The veteran of the Tenth Legion
responded by removing his helmet, so that Labienus could recognize him,
and throwing his spear at Labienus, hitting the latter’s horse right in the
chest. If he had wanted to, of course, he could have struck down Labienus
himself, but he had done enough to prove his point, and to remind his old
comrade about what it meant to be of the Tenth Legion.
Caesar, in fact, relented in his harsh treatment of the Tenth Legion, ar-
ranging for them to come to North Africa later than his other legions, as re-
inforcements. After their arrival, however, he did make an example of their
officers, specifically two military tribunes and three centurions, by very pub-
licly dismissing them dishonorably from the army for their insubordination
816
Tenth Legion
back in Italy and continuing character flaws. Caesar hoped that this small,
but firm, display of discipline in the field would keep the rest of the Tenth
Legion from repeating past mistakes.
To reinforce his attitude toward them, when confronted by the chance
of fighting enemy forces at the town of Uzitta, Caesar stationed the Tenth
Legion on the left wing instead of the right, a clear sign of demotion. As
he came to trust the unit again, however, and sought to test that trust, he
placed it on the right wing for the important Battle of Thapsus in the spring
of 46 BCE. They did not let Caesar down, though they received less praise in
the ancient accounts of the encounter than other units did.
Nonetheless, the Tenth Legion played its role in Caesar’s military ca-
reer right to the end, with the Battle of Munda in Spain against the sons
of Pompey. Once again on the right wing, and fewer in number than their
adversaries, who came rushing down from higher ground, the men of the
Tenth Legion not only held their difficult position but also pressed the
enemy back with great severity, opening up a gap in the enemy ranks that
caused panicky damage-control maneuvers throughout the latter’s lines;
Caesar’s cavalry did the rest to turn these countermeasures into the collapse
of the enemy position.
The history of the Tenth Legion in the time of Julius Caesar illustrates
the problems and potential of Roman military units in the Late Republic.
Despite its failings, overall, the Tenth Legion became a model for similar
elite units for generations of Roman soldiers to come.
See also: Ariovistus; Army; Belgae; Bellum Gallicum (Caesar); Britain; Cen-
turions; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Legions; Military Dis-
cipline; Munda, Battle of (45 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Standards;
Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE); Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
York: Doubleday.
University Press.
817
Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE)

On April 6, 46 BCE, Caesar dealt the survivors of Pompey’s forces from
Greece a crushing blow in a battle that took place outside the North Af-
rican town of Thapsus (modern Ed-Dimas on the eastern coast of Tu-
nisia).
After their defeat at the Battle of Pharsalus, the followers of Pompey
dispersed to different parts of the empire to seek refuge and to regroup.
One of their most important staging grounds was North Africa, where they
gained the support of many communities, both native and Roman settle-
ments, that were beholden to Pompey for past acts of patronage; this sense
of loyalty they transferred to his successors in the persons of M. Porcius
Cato and Q. Metellus Scipio, the latter being dead-Pompey’s father-in-law
and, like Cato, one of the most unrelenting opponents of Caesar. Cato de-
ferred to Metellus Scipio as a matter of rank, so the latter took up command
of the Pompeian forces, while Cato assumed authority in the important
town of Utica as a place for refuge and resources.
Almost two years passed before Caesar had the chance to confront these
opponents head on; matters in the East and in Italy had demanded his im-
mediate attention. Instead of invading Italy and attempting to seize the
government for themselves, the Pompeians, apparently, simply waited for
Caesar to come to them.
Scheme of the Battle of Thapsus as depicted by Andrea Palladio (1619). Reproduc-

tion of his original copper printing. (Andrea Palladio)
818
Caesar had a tough time of it from the moment he arrived in North Af-
rica to confront the Pompeians. Bad winter weather, as well as the Pom-
peian fleet, made it difficult for his vessels, as well as reinforcements from
Italy, to reach shore safely. Metellus Scipio’s lieutenants led an initial as-
sault against the Caesarians that they were only barely able to repel, at great
risk to Caesar himself. In addition, the enemy had gained the support of
the Numidians under the leadership of King Juba; formidable warriors on
horseback, the Numidians seconded by Juba, together with the Pompeians,
harassed Caesar’s foraging parties, preventing them from gathering much-
needed food, water, and other supplies, as well as his main cavalry and in-
fantry forces, killing many of the latter. The Caesarians gave back what they
got, naturally, as best they could.
A stroke of good luck came Caesar’s way when the Numidians found
themselves challenged by their Mauretanian neighbors to the west. The
Mauretanian ruler, Bocchus II, ordered his warrior-horsemen to invade
Numidia just as large numbers of fighting men from that country were on
their way to further assist the Pompeians. On receiving news of this inva-
sion of his virtually undefended kingdom, Juba turned his forces around to
confront the Mauretanians. As a result, Caesar breathed a sigh of relief that
he had far fewer opponents to beat back.
Disunity and rivalry among the Berber tribes thus contributed to Cae-
sar’s success. In addition, he received aid from an unexpected quarter.
The Gaetulians, a tribe caught between the Numidian and Mauretanian
spheres, remembered Caesar’s uncle, the great general Marius, who sixty
years before had freed them from the power of the then Numidian king,
Jugurtha. Clearly, this tradition meant much to them, as they joined Cae-
sar’s cause.
Caesar still played matters very cautiously against his remaining foes.
Metellus Scipio had several apparent advantages over Caesar, beyond the
alliance with the Numidians, which now seemed not nearly as beneficial as
expected. For instance, his men possessed an abundance of food, water, and
other necessaries, while Caesar’s did not; the latter’s cavalry troopers even
turned to washing out seaweed to feed their horses. The Pompeian forces
were well rested and familiar with the region, again unlike the Caesarians.
Lastly, and Metellus Scipio surely considered this his greatest advantage
over Caesar, he had war elephants among his military assets. Horses unac-
customed to them would run at one whiff of their smell, while soldiers un-
accustomed to them would do the same at the sight of the giant animals.
Caesar did attempt to compensate for this by summoning war elephants
from Italy (there were a few), reinforcements who had experience with
them, and war horses that had overcome their fear of the beasts. Still, Me-
tellus Scipio could feel better prepared regardless of all this: his trainers had
repeatedly practiced with the elephants to get them ready to plow through
819
an enemy force, even one hurling weapons at them. Caesar’s army, Metellus
Scipio expected, would be routed or crushed one way or the other.
Reinforced from Italy and by the Gaetulians, and still concerned about
the possible arrival of Juba with his Numidians (he was indeed again on
his way, having delegated to others the protection of Numidia from the
Mauretanians), Caesar finally decided to force the Pompeians to a show-
down. The two armies maneuvered against each other in the environs of
the town of Uzitta; these skirmishes taught Metellus Scipio not to waste
the energies of his men on an enemy (Caesar) who had fortified the high
ground and come down on top of them to their great injury.
Metellus Scipio pulled back, and Caesar continued attempts to draw him
forward again. Among these were his provocative gestures toward Metellus
Scipio’s soldiers; either Caesar’s men would fraternize with them when they
got the chance or they would distribute written statements from Caesar; in
these, he promised freedom and protection to the native warriors who had
joined Metellus Scipio and, to the Roman troops, mercy and rewards. Cae-
sar thus cleverly induced desertion from the Pompeian ranks; if he could
not weaken his opponents by force, he would do so by reducing their fight-
ing strength. Metellus Scipio was unable to stop all this; his own counter-
offers to the Caesarians fell on deaf ears, especially because, as the ancient
sources tell it, Metellus Scipio attempted to appeal only to the soldiers’
sense of patriotism and not their sense of personal profit. The latter was, in
fact, much stronger than the former.
On Juba’s arrival with his forces, the Pompeians began harassing Cae-
sar’s troops once again, especially targeting and picking off foragers or
stragglers. Caesar sent to Italy for more reinforcements against the now
much larger enemy army but had to wait for those extra troops to over-
come the obstacles of insufficient transport craft, poor weather, and run-
ins with Pompeian vessels. Cavalry skirmishes continued all this time until
Caesar realized his adversaries had the most critical advantage of all: they
did not have to engage him unless they so chose. To change this, to take
the initiative, Caesar withdrew in the direction of Thapsus.
An important harbor town loyal to the Pompeians, connected to the
main highway along the North African coast, Thapsus would have proved
too useful for Caesar as a staging ground for further military activities had
the Pompeian garrison there lost it to him; he determined that his besieg-
ing of the town would force the Pompeians to battle. In addition, the lay
of the land around Thapsus provided tactical advantages for Caesar: the ap-
proach to the town itself, which sat on a small peninsula, was marshy and
narrow, sandwiched between the sea and a saltwater lake. If he could draw
the enemy army into this confined space, its major assets, the elephants and
the cavalry, would have much less room to maneuver and might thus be ef-
fectively neutralized.
820
Once Caesar arrived outside Thapsus, his engineers constructed a crescent-

shaped, fortified camp that blocked off the access to the city along the
peninsula. According to some sources, Metellus Scipio’s engineers coun-
tered this by beginning to wall off the end of the peninsula with a ditch
and palisade; if they had completed the work, the Caesarians would have
been trapped, on the peninsula, between the enemy and the city. Caesar,
however, did not wait for this to happen. He ordered his troops to attack
Metellus Scipio’s workmen in progress and especially sent his slingers and
archers against Metellus Scipio’s war elephants, which were supposed to
guard the unfinished portions of the barrier. The elephants turned around
in panic, bringing grief to the Pompeians.
Caesar now pushed his army in the direction of Metellus Scipio’s main
force not far distant, the latter outnumbering the former especially in terms
of cavalry, drawn up in battle formation; he sent some of his ships along the
coast to take up station basically behind the enemy position. To counter
the war elephants, which protected the Pompeians’ front ranks, Caesar re-
inforced the left and right wings of his infantry with a fourth line of legion-
aries, as well as slingers and archers, and placed light-armed soldiers among
his cavalry on the left and right.
At first, Caesar could not restrain his veteran troops, who began on the
right wing to engage their opponents without a proper signal from their
commander. He gave in to this tide of initiative and ordered a full attack.
As before, his slingers and archers drove the enemy’s elephants into retreat,
right into the ranks of the Pompeians; their Numidian allies dispersed; the
entire left wing of the Pompeian force crumbled and the Caesarians soon
surrounded their opponents. A great slaughter ensued and continued un-
abated until dusk; during the battle, Caesar could be found often among
the ranks, encouraging his less-experienced soldiers to keep up the fight,
and even the more experienced standard bearers to stand their ground. In
the end, the Caesarians pushed into the enemy’s forward camp and then
further into their two rear camps; their bold and bloody victory convinced
King Juba to flee for home, abandoning the Pompeians to their fate. Cae-
sar’s soldiers (perhaps on his orders) spared none of their opponents, not
even those who surrendered and begged for mercy; indeed, they even killed
some of their own officers, blaming them apparently for the long duration
of the Civil War. The estimated figures of the dead on the Pompeian side
ranged anywhere from five thousand to tens of thousands.
In the aftermath of his victory, Caesar had little trouble arranging the
surrender and compliance of all those North African communities, in-
cluding Thapsus, that had previously given support to the Pompeians;
many of them were forced to pay fines to Caesar. In addition, he annexed
a large chunk of Numidian territory as a new Roman province, under the
authority of one of his officers, the future historian, Sallust. Finally, his
821
Theater of Pompey
chief Roman adversaries in the region, Cato, at the town of Utica, and
Metellus Scipio, who had attempted to escape Africa for Spain but failed,
both committed suicide to avoid capture and, in their eyes, humiliation by
Caesar. Other Roman prisoners of war, or those who surrendered hoping
for Caesar’s clemency, found themselves either spared or executed, solely
at his discretion. His true dictatorship over the Roman world was surely
at hand.
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Juba (d. 46 BCE); Libya/Numidia; Pharsalus,
Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE); Utica
Further Reading
Press.
Theater of Pompey
In 55 BCE, Caesar’s partner and son-in-law, Pompey, dedicated the first
stone theater building within the city of Rome. It had taken nearly six years
to construct and it has literally shaped the district known as Campo Marzio
(Campus Martius in ancient times) ever since.
Pompey’s engineers perhaps modeled the structure on the theater of
Mytilene on the Greek island of Lesbos, which Pompey had seen about
a decade earlier, after his campaign against King Mithradates VI of Pon-
tus. According to the Greek biographer Plutarch, the local population was
holding its traditional poetry competition in that theater when Pompey
made his visit to Mytilene; all the competitors honored him by composing
their works about his campaigns. This by itself would have endeared Pom-
pey, always sentimental for praise, to that particular venue, but on top of
the attention lavished upon him by the poets, the beauty and engineering
of the building also impressed him. Of course, he desired not only to dupli-
cate the structure but also to enhance it in size and grandeur. The necessary
details were collected.
For generations, the Roman Senate had opposed construction of a per-
manent theater in the capital, regarding such a building as an invitation to
laziness and lewd behavior, which they believed Greek theaters promoted.
In 154 BCE, for instance, a project for erecting a stone theater in Rome was
allowed at first but then quickly halted and reversed under this sort of mor-
alistic pressure within the Senate. Of course, this did not stop the setting
up of temporary structures made of wood, built up on certain special oc-
casions, particularly religious festivals, and then torn down, nor, therefore,
822
Theater of Pompey
Temple ruins in the Largo di Torre Argentina, Rome. The temples sit at what was
once the eastern edge of Pompey’s theater complex (now incorporated into the
buildings to the left). The Curia of Pompey, site of Caesar’s assassination, sat where we
see the arches supporting the modern street on the left. (Borzywoj/Dreamstime.com)
did it stop the growing popularity of Greek drama and especially comedy
within Roman society.
Various Latin poets of the third and second centuries BCE, especially Liv-
ius Andronicus, Ennius, Naevius, Caecilius Statius, Pacuvius, and Accius,
either translated Greek plays into Latin or adapted those original works
into new Latin productions. These men had tight connections with lead-
ing members of the Roman elite, and those leaders opened the door to the
theatrical works being presented to the Roman public. This seems to have
begun with the staging of Andronicus’s works at the Ludi Romani of 240
BCE, which kicked off a tradition in Rome of ludi scaenici, “stage games.”
Despite the large body of work that these authors composed in the tragic
format, comedy dominated the Roman stage, especially the soap opera style,
stereo-typing productions of the Greek New Comedy tradition. Favorite
characters included the stern old father, the day-dreaming young son, the
girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the henpecking wife, and the clever
slave. Serious issues were also explored in a humorous way, such as tension
between the social classes, criticisms of Roman militarism, child-raising in
the “modern” world, and changing sexual mores. The best known, and
823
Theater of Pompey
best preserved, Latin comedies came from Plautus and Terence, who were
active in the early second century BCE.
Regardless of this established tradition of playwriting and performance,
which in the days of Pompey and Caesar even attracted the professional
attention of Latin scholars, the Senate still stood against permitting a per-
manent venue for plays in Rome. Pompey got around this by imitating a
long-established tradition from a number of Italian communities. He pro-
posed the construction of a temple in honor of the goddess Venus Victrix,
“Venus Bringer of Victory”; the temple would be flanked by a tall colon-
nade and would sit atop a large stone staircase, wide and semicircular in
shape (in other words, the seating section of a theater, divided perhaps into
three levels, with a capacity of about 17,000); facing the temple, at the bot-
tom of this massive “staircase,” would be a platform almost 500 feet across
(i.e., the stage) for honoring the goddess. Surely, this arrangement fooled
no one, especially the members of the Senate, but it legally and technically
got around the injunction against building a theater.
Pompey’s theater was an engineering marvel to dazzle the masses. Un-
like Greek theaters, which were always built into hillsides to take advantage
of natural acoustics, Pompey’s was constructed on the flat ground of the
southern Campus Martius, thus requiring a sunken foundation level and
arched and vaulted substructures of concrete and stone to support the seat-
ing and the temple, all of which towered to a height of almost 150 feet.
The Theater of Pompey also considerably altered the look of the Campus
Martius. Most of this space was still open field, as it had been for centuries,
only the southern area along the river and near the Capitoline Hill having
been built up. Even here, though, the common structures were single-story
temples surrounded by colonnades. Pompey’s edifice dwarfed all these in scale
and towered far above them in height; it also provided an entertainment venue
to attract large crowds of people to an otherwise fairly solemn part of Rome.
The dedication ceremonies for the Theater of Pompey in 55 BCE were as
magnificent as the architecture. Musical, gymnastic, and literary competi-
tions took place, reminiscent of the Theater of Mytilene, as well as tragic
dramas in Latin and Greek, and Atellan farces (a form of low-brow comedy
common in central Italy where players costumed as stock characters impro-
vised skits to poke fun at small town life or to parody serious plays). Pom-
pey’s friend, Cicero the orator, in a letter to one of his friends, regarded the
actors as over the hill and the productions as too over the top to be truly
interesting or amusing; where a few props would have sufficed, there were
thousands, where a few animals would have sufficed for a scene, there were
hundreds. According to Cicero, even Pompey regarded the athletes in the
gymnastic events as a waste of time and money. Still, Cicero acknowledged
that the general viewing public was amazed by all this and that that was the
audience Pompey probably sought to impress the most. More memorable
824
Theater of Pompey
still were the wild beast hunts or venationes, staged in the Circus Maxi-
mus to allow more space for the action, which lasted five days. A total of
600 lions and 400 leopards, evidence of Pompey’s conquests in far-away
places, were killed. The crowning spectacle was to have been the staged
hunt of eighteen Indian elephants by imported North African tribesmen,
but, as Cicero reported, the crowd sympathized with the dying animals
(who almost broke out into the spectator seating) and looked upon the
Great Pompey with some disgust. The stifling heat of late summer/early
fall, the season in which the dedication ceremonies took place, might have
had something to do with Cicero’s and others’ negative reactions to Pom-
pey’s grand spectacle.
Today’s Romans fondly spread the story that Caesar was assassinated in
the Theater of Pompey; in fact, he died in the Curia of Pompey, a small,
square meeting hall located almost 600 feet away at the far end of the col-
onnaded garden that stretched eastward behind the theater’s stage (the
spot now under the Via di Torre Argentina). The Senate seems to have
been using it for its normal meetings, since the proper Curia, the Senate
House in the Roman Forum, had been destroyed by fire eight years earlier
and construction of its replacement, the Curia Julia, had not been com-
pleted. On the Ides of March 44 BCE, it was Caesar, in fact, who summoned
the senators to meet him at the Curia of Pompey. So, despite modern tales,
Caesar died not in the Theater of Pompey but in the Curia of Pompey, in
front of the pedestal of Pompey’s statue there. Afterward, the Senate de-
creed that never again would it meet in that location and, in fact, that the
Curia Pompeia should be sealed up.
Regardless of historical accuracy, today’s tourists in Rome find the The-
ater of Pompey talked up by many of the locals. They also find that what
remains of it still dominates the lower section of today’s Campo Marzio,
especially the piazza known as the Campo dei Fiori. Towering high above
this popular socializing space, the seventeenth-century Palazzo Pio incor-
porates the structure of the Theater of Pompey, clearly visible in the base-
ments of the restaurants that share the palace’s first floor. The streets all
around, such as the Via del Biscione to the north, the Via dei Giubbonari
to the south, and especially the Via di Grotta Pinta to the east, still preserve
the curvature of the ancient building.
See also: Campus Martius; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Conspiracy
of the Liberators (44 BCE); Festivals; Games; Ides of March; Pompey
(106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Beare, W. 1964. The Roman Stage. London: Methuen.
Bieber, M. 1961. The History of the Greek and Roman Theater. Princeton, NJ:
825
Thessaly
Books.
lishing.
versity Press.
Thessaly
Bordered by Macedonia on the north, Epirus on the west, Aetolia on the
south, and the Aegean Sea on the east, Thessaly was the region in which
Caesar’s first and last pitched battle with Pompey the Great took place. Cae-
sar, worsted in his efforts near the western Greek city of Dyrrachium, had
tactically retreated from Pompey, with Pompey in pursuit. Instead of mov-
ing south into the heart of Greece, Caesar moved eastward into Thessaly.
Thessaly contained advantages and resources useful to his cause. First of
all, the wide-open spaces of the Thessalian plains would have provided more
maneuvering room for Caesar’s cavalry; he had been boxed in enough dur-
ing the long siege and counter-siege in the Battle of Dyrrachium. Second,
the Rivers Peneus and Enipeus, and their tributaries, would have supplied
an abundance of drinking water for his army. Third, Thessaly was famed
for the horses that were bred there, of which Caesar’s cavalry could make
good use, and the cattle and grain that were raised and harvested there; no
doubt his men were in much need of food after their harrowing experiences
at Dyrrachium, where Pompey’s troops had benefited greatly from their
access to large quantities of good Thessalian grain transported overland
to support their efforts. Lastly, virtually encircled by mountain ranges and
thus having limited access to the sea, Thessaly would not be easily reach-
able by Pompey’s fleet in the Aegean; the ships themselves could provide
no tactical support and it would be too cumbersome to rely on them for
reinforcements or supplies.
All this information would have been readily available to Caesar, but the
political advantages of maneuvering Pompey’s army into Thessaly would
not have been as clear. True, Thessalian power had faded long before, back
in the late fourth century BCE when Alexander the Great’s father, Philip II
of Macedon, had seized control of the area militarily. When the Romans
later came on the scene in the second century BCE, they at first used Thessaly
and its league of principal cities as a counterpoint to Macedonian influence,
826
Thessaly
but eventually placed the region under the authority of the Roman gover-
nor of Macedonia and Achaea, thereby further reducing independent ac-
tions of the Thessalians.
Yet, during the military operations at Dyrrachium in the first half of 48
BCE, Caesar came to know that at least some of the populations to the east
in Thessaly were willing to take up his side against Pompey. The latter had
recruited large numbers of Thessalians, probably cavalry troops, to join his
army in Epirus (modern Albania); he distributed them among his Roman
legionaries as reinforcements. Also, as noted earlier, Thessalian grain was
made available to Pompey. Nevertheless, certain Thessalian populations
sought Caesar’s protection against Pompey’s generals in their region. Ap-
parently unsolicited by him, Caesar received representatives from such
communities (unidentified in the sources except for the town of Gomphi),
who promised to follow his orders in exchange for the asked-for protection;
similar requests for help also arrived from the Aetolians of central Greece.
In response, Caesar asked for supplies of grain and gladly dispatched two
of his legates with the troops he could spare; for Thessaly, his legate was
L. Cassius Longinus (brother of the famous Cassius who was then serving
under Pompey and who would later assassinate Caesar).
When Cassius Longinus reached Thessaly, he discovered political divi-
sion as one would expect, considering the role the Thessalians had played
thus far in the Roman Civil War. Two prominent Thessalian nobles repre-
sented the division: the younger one, Petraeus, backed Caesar in all ways
possible, the elder, Hegesaretos, did the same for Pompey. It is interesting
to note that, as at Rome, so also in Thessaly, Caesar seems to have had a
special attraction for the up-and-coming generation of political leaders and
to have been resisted by those with long-established influence.
Cassius Longinus encountered another problem as well in Thessaly:
Pompey’s general and father-in-law, Metellus Scipio, one of Caesar’s bitter-
est enemies, had marched his forces from his province of Syria across Asia
Minor (modern Turkey) and brought them over into Macedonia; instead
of attacking Domitius Calvinus, Caesar’s legate there, he turned southward
into Thessaly against Cassius Longinus. In addition, Pompey’s ally, Cotys,
king of Thrace, led his cavalry into Thessaly to join up with Metellus Scipio.
Cassius Longinus abandoned camp and beat a hasty retreat southwestward
into the Pindus Mountains, with his enemies hot on his trail; only the op-
erations of Domitius Calvinus halted this pursuit, and these demanded the
attention of Metellus Scipio back in Macedonia. Thus, the Roman Civil
War did not yet bring bloodshed to Thessaly itself.
By the time Caesar retreated from defeat in the Siege of Dyrrachium in
the summer of 48 BCE, his men needed all the previously noted advantages
and resources offered by the region of Thessaly. They discovered that their
comrades under Caesar’s legates in the area, from whom no word had been
827
Trade
received in months, had managed to win over many of the locals. There
were still resisters, however, even at the highest levels, such as the chief
magistrate of the confederation of Thessalian communities, a man named
Androsthenes. He led the people of the town of Gomphi, which had re-
quested aid from Caesar before his failure at Dyrrachium, to turn to Pom-
pey’s side instead. Caesar made an example of the place by laying it under
rapid siege, seizing and plundering it all in one day. After very deliberately
sparing the nearby town of Metropolis in exchange for its rapid surrender,
thereby sending a clear message throughout the region, Caesar won over
all the other Thessalian populations, except the community of Larisa, which
was occupied by Metellus Scipio’s forces. Whether any of these towns pro-
vided manpower to Caesar is unclear, but they did give him plentiful sup-
plies of grain.
In his own commentaries on the Civil War, Caesar in fact never refers to
his decisive defeat of Pompey as the Battle of Pharsalus; instead, he always
calls it the “battle in Thessaly.” Certainly, the wide-open spaces, convenient
water, and other resources of the region made Thessaly the perfect place to
take his last stand against Pompey.
See also: Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE); Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pom-
pey (106–48 BCE)
Further Reading
Grant, M. 1986. A Guide to the Ancient World. New York: H.W. Wilson.
Trade
Trade (commercium or mercatura), the buying and selling of goods, was an
important feature of the Roman economy, protected by the law from very
early on in Rome’s history. In Julius Caesar’s lifetime, the trading network
of the Roman Empire came to stretch as far east as India and as far north as
Britain and, yet, it always also maintained a largely local flavor.
Almost every farmer in the countryside or craftsman in the city served
also as the trader of his or her own wares. Farmers (agricolae) brought
their products to the towns or to temporary marketplaces along the ex-
cellent Roman roads, expanded in the Late Republic under various public
works programs of the Populares (beginning with C. Gracchus in the 120s
BCE) specifically for the purpose of enhancing commerce in the country-
side. Even so, donkey or ox cart could only carry so much, so fast, and so
far, which meant that most products of the countryside were traded within
a limited radius from their point of origin (around thirty miles at most),
828
Trade
Relief sculpture perhaps depicting Roman money-changers. (V/Dreamstime.com)
unless a convenient seaport made easier and quicker shipping available.

Organic, farm-fresh, locally raised vegetables, fruit, meat, and so on, all
the rage in today’s modern society, were simply the norm in the Roman
world.
Craftsmen (faber, opifex, or artifex) rented shop space along busy city
streets or in city centers where they both made and sold their goods. In-
deed, it was most common that such artisans lived in an apartment or loft
right above their shop, and that, while one spouse created the product,
the other tended the sales counter, both with help of their children, other
relatives, and trained assistants, perhaps even a few slaves among them.
Some sections of a city developed into dedicated places of trade in par-
ticular products; for instance, in Rome itself, the Forum Boarium, located
between the Tiber River and the western slope of the Palatine Hill, be-
came the place to buy meat, while just to the north, the merchants of the
Forum Holitorium specialized in farm-fresh fruits and vegetables. Though
by Caesar’s time some goods might be on sale every day, and certain parts
of town were always bustling with trade, the most active day of the eight-
day week among Roman citizens was the eighth day called nundinae or
market day. Markets and market days fell under the supervision of the mag-
istrates known as aediles, who verified weights and measures, investigated
complaints about product quality and confiscated shoddy goods, imposed
fines for illegal practices, and generally tried to maintain standards of safety,
order, and cleanliness in the trading environment.
829
Trade
A collection of Roman amphorae dated to about the first century BCE. The popula-
tions of the Roman Empire utilized such containers to store and transport grain, olive
oil, and wine. (Gian Marco Valente/Dreamstime.com)
The biggest traders in the Roman society belonged to the wealthiest

level of the equestrian order and were called publicani. They engaged, first
of all, in trade with the Roman government, providing it with the supplies
or financing needed for many of its religious, military, and public functions.
Just as in modern society, in Rome there was close partnership between the
public sector and private contractors. These private contractors conducted
vital business in which Senators were not legally permitted to engage. Com-
panies of publicani periodically bid on state contracts (pactiones) offered by
the censors or other magistrates; these contracts stipulated precise terms
for the project’s proper completion, including such things as inspection
rules from government officials and indemnity against unforeseen disaster
or even enemy attack. Normally, whichever company won the bidding was
paid half their fee upfront, the other half when the project was finished.
From at least the beginning of the fourth century BCE, private compa-
nies of publicani were providing supplies for the operation of the Circus
830
Trade
Maximus and Rome’s most important temples. A system of yearly contracts

grew by the late third century BCE for supplying Rome’s army on credit
from the state. Not only that, the publicani, who had the necessary exper-
tise and capital, ran the whole logistical show for the Roman military in its
conquest of the Mediterranean world. These same sorts of businesses car-
ried out all of the massive building projects ordered by the Senate and other
government officials, such as construction of basilicas, military monuments,
and roads. They also leased from the government the iron and silver mines
in Spain and the silver mines in Macedon.
Supervision of such business operations varied with the censors and with
the governors, who normally monitored the pactiones. Senators judged
cases involving public contractors, especially when they came into conflict
with administrative interests. Publicani were barred from political office by
law and more importantly by tradition and social prejudice, but they could
still vehemently oppose any efforts to seriously clamp down on their prac-
tices; they had a powerful voice in the Popular Assemblies and exerted con-
tinual pressure on the Senate to let them do things their own way as much
as possible. Many had senatorial patrons. In fact, despite the legal restric-
tions, many senators themselves engaged in large-scale public contracting
activities as silent partners, with the publicani as their front men.
The growing empire of Rome under the Republic offered the opportu-
nity for huge profits not only to such people who earned their sizable liv-
ing from internal trade with the state but also to those people who engaged
in other considerable commercial ventures. Joint-stock partnerships (soci-
etates) of various sorts developed, which registered with the state treasury
at the Temple of Saturn; shareholders (socii) contributed money and their
board of directors (magistri) selected the projects for investment of that
capital. The biggest societates had staffs of hundreds of slaves and freedmen
and branch offices in various towns of the empire; their couriers acted as
an unofficial postal service, made use of even by government officials. Most
trading companies, until the very Late Republic, were highly competitive
with one another; only a few merged to form larger cartels.
Along with the opportunities of trade for large- and small-scale mer-
chants (negotiatores and mercatores, respectively), independent or associ-
ated in partnerships, came the need for investment capital and the need
for moving that capital around the empire. Many of the largest partner-
ship companies had sufficient liquid assets to act as overseas banks, moving
money by drafts. Most Romans engaged in trade turned to professional
moneychangers (nummularii), money holders (argentarii), and money-
lenders (faeneratores), not always clearly distinct from one another, for their
capital requirements.
Traders from all parts of the empire, free-born and freed, flocked to
Rome; by Caesar’s time, perhaps half the city’s population was non-Roman
831
Trade
or descended from non-Romans. Merchants from foreign lands brought

with them all their special goods, such as olive oil from Greece, papyrus and
linen from Egypt, incense from Arabia, colored dyes from Lebanon, mar-
ble from Asia Minor, pepper and other spices from India, and so on. These
goods came in mainly by sea, either unloaded at the port of Ostia along the
coast and then carted up to the city by wagon or ferried up the Tiber River
to the docks at the Emporium and the Porticus Aemilia, constructed prac-
tically a century before Caesar’s birth; the massive complex had the space
to hold tons of various imported products, and their containers (especially
amphorae for wine and oil) might be saved for reuse or trashed beyond the
buildings in an area of the city now called Testaccio. Buyers had the chance
to purchase some items wholesale at the Porticus Aemilia. Similarly, prod-
ucts made in Italy on a large-scale, like wine, for example, left the peninsula
primarily through such port facilities.
During the Republic, trade expanded beyond any Roman’s imagination,
and Rome’s leaders, like Caesar himself, contributed to its growth. After
all, the wars of Caesar in Gaul alone opened large territories in western Eu-
rope to trade with Rome on a much larger scale than ever before; simply
trading with his army brought great profits to Gallic merchants, many of
whom became regular camp followers, constantly hanging on the soldiers’
“coattails” to sell them food, clothes, and other necessities. At the same
time, Rome’s wars obviously created conditions that could disrupt trade
networks with great risk. There were also limits in the availability of mar-
kets. For example, transport of goods was costly and could be dangerous
over long distances or through unfamiliar territory, and local competitors
could prevent entry of new goods or push them out of the market. The
most significant brake on the expansion of trade, however, was the fact that
Roman citizens, and indeed most populations of the empire, were not con-
sumers in the modern sense. Most lived barely above the poverty level and
did not have the disposable income to buy unnecessary items that a dealer
might wish to sell.
See also: Agriculture; Army; Calendar; Coinage/Money; Equites; Forum
Romanum; Games; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Popular Assemblies;
Populares; Public Works; Senate; Taxation/Tax Farming
Further Reading
Badian, E. 1972. Publicans Sinners: Private Enterprise in the Service of the Roman
Republic. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Brunt, P. A. 1971. Social Conflicts in the Roman Republic. New York: W.W. Norton.
832
Transpadane Gauls
University Press.
Casson, L. 1984. Ancient Trade and Society. Detroit: Wayne State University Press.
Duncan-Jones, R. 1982. The Economy of the Roman Empire: Quantitative Studies.
Frayn, J. M. 1993. Markets and Fairs in Roman Italy. Oxford, UK: Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
tomus.
Transpadane Gauls
One of the most contentious political issues of Caesar’s generation was
the question of extending Roman citizenship to the populations living
north of the Po River in northernmost Italy, the Transpadani (from Padus,
the Latin name of that river). Members of the Roman Senate engaged in
heated debate over that question for a variety of personal and political rea-
sons, while the Transpadani discovered that old prejudices against them
died hard.
In the time of Caesar in the first century BCE, the region north of or
“across” the Po (Transpadana) was inhabited mainly by Gallic tribes (pri-
marily the Taurini, Insubres, and especially the Cenomani) and the Veneti.
The Veneti, cousins of the populations inhabiting central and southern
Italy (e.g., the Romans), occupied the eastern portion of Transpadana,
corresponding to the modern Italian region of Veneto. The remaining
two-thirds of Transpadana (the area corresponding today to the regions of
Piedmont, Lombardy, and Trentino) was where the Gauls lived.
The Romans called Galli, Gauls, those populations whom the Greeks
referred to as Keltoi, Celts, tribes that inhabited France, Britain, and Ire-
land, as well as central and eastern European territories stretching from
Switzerland to Bulgaria. The ancestors of the Transpadane Gauls had
settled into northern Italy (what the Romans referred to afterward as
833
Transpadane Gauls
Cisalpine Gaul, “Gaul on this side of the Alps”) as early as the sixth cen-
tury BCE; they competed with the Veneti (allies of Rome) for land, and
lost, and fell under the influence of the Etruscans (of modern Tuscany),
the Greeks (whose trading contacts stretched throughout Italy and south-
ern France), and the Romans (who subdued the peoples of northern-
most Italy through two centuries of brutal warfare and massacres). The
Transpadani as well as the Cispadani (other Gallic tribes settled south or
“on this side” of the Po), developed a mixed culture under these various
influences and important centers of trade and civilization, such as Insub-
rian Mediolanum (modern Milan), Cenomanian Verona, and Venetic Pat-
avium (modern Padua). They also became more and more integrated into
the Roman context over time, especially as military personnel attached to
the Roman army.
When Caesar was eleven years old, the Roman government granted
partial citizen rights (specifically the rights to trade and marry freely with
Roman citizens) to all the non-Roman communities in Cisalpine Gaul (as
opposed to the Roman settlements or colonies there, which received full
citizenship); this was precipitated by the war between the Romans and their
allies in central and southern Italy and basically constituted an effort to win
greater support from the Cisalpine populations during that crisis.
Then, two decades later (in 69 BCE), the Roman Senate elevated the
Cispadane Gauls to full citizenship, deliberately denying the same privi-
lege to the Transpadani. Roman officials seemed to regard the Cispadani
as more “civilized” and more “Roman” than their cousins across the river
to the north; certainly, those Gallic tribes living south of the Po had been
under much tighter control and much stronger cultural influence over the
generations from the Roman colonies and the Roman garrisons in their
midst. Certainly, also, the tribes north of the Po, both Gallic and Venetic,
were more populous than those to the south and appear to have held on
to more of their native ways. Nevertheless, like their cousins to the south,
the Transpadane Gauls had participated in the system of alliances created
by the Romans and were no less loyal to Rome; no one could dare impugn
the devotion of the Veneti, either.
Perhaps the most important factor in the Senate’s decision to separate
“northerners” from “southerners” was politically motivated: rival sena-
tors apparently sought to limit the number of new clients acquired by the
chief promoters of the plan to extend the citizenship, that is, Pompey and
Crassus. In Transpadana, Pompey already had the reputation of his father,
Pompeius Strabo, to build upon; the latter had supported and overseen
the granting of partial citizenship there back in 89 BCE. Crassus likely had
business connections in the region, as he did throughout the rest of the
Italian Peninsula and in other provinces of the empire. Both men sought
to enlarge their respective reputations and to increase the number of their
834
Transpadane Gauls
political supporters by leaps and bounds through elevating the Transpadani

to full citizenship.
Crassus had another chance to push this objective as censor in 65 BCE,
and he did so. His colleague, Catulus the Younger, vetoed that option,
however, and prevented any movement forward. Among those who fa-
vored Crassus’s cause was Julius Caesar. He later sought the governorship
of Cisalpine Gaul and developed a very strong relationship with the com-
munities of that region, and especially with the Transpadani, during his
term of service from 58 to 49 BCE. Thousands of Transpadani volunteered
for military duty under Caesar’s command and they impressed him greatly
during his campaigns in Gallia Comata (roughly modern France). In one
instance, a legion of Transpadani under the command of Caesar’s lieuten-
ants Sabinus and Cotta suffered ambush and near-total destruction at the
hands of the warlord Ambiorix, but not without putting up a serious fight.
The Transpadani, thus, proved their loyalty and skill under the most chal-
lenging conditions of warfare.
Caesar looked for ways to reward loyal Transpadani with the full rights
of Roman citizens. In the year before his governorship began, for exam-
ple, while still serving as consul in Rome, a special law of the People of
Rome (promoted by one his followers, P. Vatinius) gave him the author-
ity to establish a colony of full citizens in the Insubrian town of Comum
(modern Como), which Caesar then dubbed “Novum Comum,” “New
Como.” Prominent locals with only partial citizen rights could become
full citizens if they rose to hold official positions as magistrates of Comum.
Over the years, naturally, as full citizens intermarried with partial citizens,
full citizenship would spread throughout the rest of the community of
Comum.
In 51 BCE, one of Caesar’s staunchest political enemies, the consul M.
Claudius Marcellus, challenged the legitimacy of Vatinius’s law and Cae-
sar’s authority under it; he insisted that Vatinius had had no legal basis for
his statute and had only been seeking to increase the number of political
supporters for Caesar in the region of Transpadana. To drive home his
point that the people of Novum Comum were not legally full citizens of
Rome, he arrested an aristocrat from Novum Comum, who had come to
the city of Rome at the time, and had him beaten with wooden rods, a pun-
ishment to which Roman citizens were not subject. Afterward, he sent the
man back to Caesar, who was wintering in Cisalpine Gaul at the time, as a
visible proof that the latter had had no right to establish his citizen colony
in Transpadana.
Deeply angered, Caesar did all he could through intermediaries in
Rome to undermine Marcellus’s position, but defense of the rights of the
Transpadani was only one of his many worries in those days. Soon, Civil
War erupted between himself and Pompey, urged especially by Marcellus
835
Transpadane Gauls
and the latter’s cousin. Yet, when Caesar secured Italy for himself in the
first few months of that conflict, and the senators remaining in Rome
granted him his first dictatorship (49 BCE), he did not neglect to extend
the full citizenship to all the Transpadani, Gauls and Veneti. In fact,
many of them, only freshly recruited, accompanied him the following
year into battle against Pompey at Pharsalus in northern Greece. On that
occasion, one of Pompey’s lieutenants, Labienus, who had served Cae-
sar in the past, encouraged his fellow commanders not to think much of
Caesar’s new recruits, who were, after all, “only Transpadane settlers,”
in other words, in his mind, not truly Roman citizen-soldiers. Yet, those
“second-class” troops scored a decisive victory over Pompey’s forces not
long after.
In the troubled period after Caesar’s assassination five years later, the fa-
mous statesman and orator Cicero confided in a letter to Cassius Longinus,
one of the leading assassins, that “their cause” (i.e., the effort to destroy
Marc Antony and end the “tyranny” in Rome that had begun with Caesar)
had the enthusiastic support of the Transpadani. This amazed Cicero; he
knew that they had received full citizenship thanks to Caesar, and so ex-
pected them to side with Caesar’s successor, Antony. Yet, they seemed to
be throwing in their lot with the latter’s opponents, perhaps primarily be-
cause of a very strong connection to Cassius. In fact, Cicero refers to the
Transpadani as the clients of Cassius, though he does not record why they
were; many of them, or perhaps many of their leaders at least, must have
owed some sort of debt to Cassius, perhaps to his father.
In any event, massive assistance from Transpadana for the side of Cassius
and Brutus did not, in fact, materialize; many people there also had links to
Antony or to his associate Lepidus the Younger. The Transpadani turned
out to be as divided in their allegiance as other populations across Italy.
For nearly fifty years, the Roman government and the Roman People
specifically denied the Transpadani full citizenship in their state when they
had extended that privilege throughout the rest of Italy. They regarded the
Transpadani as culturally distinct from the other populations of the pen-
insula, as though they were a subject people from the provinces. Thanks
to the efforts of Julius Caesar and those associated with him, this distinc-
tion fairly well disappeared by the time of his great-nephew Octavian’s rise
to power as the first emperor, Augustus. The latter benefited greatly from
the influx of new blood and talent from, in fact, thoroughly Romanized
Transpadani admitted to his Senate and court.
See also: Ambiorix; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Cassius (ca.
85–42 BCE); Catullus (ca. 84–54 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Citi-
zenship; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Cisalpine/
Gallia Cisalpina; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Marcellus Cousins; Pharsalus, Battle
of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Vatinius
836
Treasury
Further Reading
Chilver, G.E.F. 1941. Cisalpine Gaul. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.
ledge.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
endon Press.
Treasury
During the Republic, rents paid for leasing public land, fines due to the
state from criminal proceedings, various taxes collected from Roman cit-
izens, and, of course, tribute exacted from provincial subjects and con-
quered populations poured into the city of Rome throughout each year.
For example, Julius Caesar’s former associate and chief rival, Pompey the
Great, increased state revenues by something like 70 percent through his
conquests of territory in the eastern Mediterranean region, while also de-
positing all at once fifty million denarii into the state coffers. Whether in
the form of coined money or objects made of precious metal, most of such
public wealth was held in the secure stone vaults located in the basement
of the Temple of Saturn, one of the oldest (if not, the oldest) religious
structures in the Roman Forum. Four elected magistrates, the quaestors,
and their assistants, had their offices in that same substructure, attached
to the so-called aerarium Saturni, the treasury of Saturn, or often simply
aerarium, the “state” treasury. The Senate held ultimate authority over the
strings to this enormous purse.
Julius Caesar had much personal experience with the aerarium Saturni.
In 69 BCE, he served as a quaestor himself, though not as one of those
working within the treasury. Instead, he traveled to the province of Further
837
Treasury
Spain (today’s southern Spain) on the staff of governor Antistius Vetus.

In his capacity as provincial quaestor, Caesar was responsible for manag-
ing funds provided to his superior officer from the state treasury for the
maintenance of the Roman garrison; this would have involved fairly regular
communication between Caesar and the quaestors back at “headquarters”
in Rome. Furthermore, the governor sent him throughout the province to
collect taxes from the provincial inhabitants, taxes which would have then
been sent or brought back to Rome for deposit in the aerarium Saturni.
Again, Caesar held the responsibility for this process.
Five years after his quaestorship in Spain, Caesar served as presiding
judge over the standing court for homicide in Rome. In that capacity, and
again having accumulated considerable understanding of the workings of
the treasury apparatus in Rome, he, evidently, utilized the official records
to gather the names of individuals who had received money from the aer-
arium in payment for the elimination of citizen enemies. Even though such
official payment had received sanction from the legislation of the former
dictator Sulla (who had wanted to see such citizens killed), Caesar disre-
garded this and encouraged anyone who desired to bring murder charges
against these individuals to do so.
With the start of the Civil War between Caesar and his chief rival, Pom-
pey, in 49 BCE, the Senate apparently intended to place everything in the
state treasury, and especially the cash, at the disposal of Pompey. Early in
January of that year, having declared its “final decree” against Caesar, the
Senate carried several other motions with direct impact upon the public
treasury (ex aerario, i.e., the aerarium Saturni), including the motion that
ordered its funds to be allocated to Pompey. After the latter’s departure
from the city for the purpose of raising armed forces to stand against Cae-
sar, one of the consuls, Lentulus, followed the Senate’s directive to secure
the money for Pompey by proceeding to the treasury to unlock the large,
metal doors that sealed the actual vaults (constructed of a volcanic stone
known as tufa, harvested from underground and hardened by natural oxi-
dation). He delayed too long in doing so, however. By the time he acted,
rumors had spread about Caesar’s invasion of Italy to the effect that he was
indeed already nearing Rome and that his cavalry were already at the gates
of the city (when, in fact, he and his troopers were only at Auximum). Len-
tulus wasted no time in leaving the city to escape Caesar’s clutches.
If the departure of the consul really did take place in this manner, as
Caesar himself alleged in his account of the Civil War, then strangely, and
inexplicably, Lentulus seems to have left open the doors of the inner trea-
sury (the sanctiore aerario, or most precious section of the vaults). Granted
that he and many in the city were in a state of severe panic, still this was in-
credibly un-statesmanlike for a consul of Rome, especially one of such dis-
tinguished ancestry as Lentulus. Someone, anyone, might have just helped
838
Treasury
themselves to the valuable contents of the vaults. Indeed, the consul’s neg-
ligence would have made it possible for his enemy, Caesar himself, to more
easily grab hold of those funds.
Caesar likely described events in this way to cast aspersions upon Lentu-
lus and the other magistrates of Rome; he did not write about his own dis-
reputable behavior toward the aerarium three months later (in early April
49). Even if Lentulus had committed such an error in judgment, he must
have corrected it by then, because, when Caesar actually arrived in Rome
at that time, intending to collect badly needs funds from the aerarium, the
doors to its vaults were sealed. Even better, one of the plebeian tribunes,
L. Caecilius Metellus, defended them. He directly confronted Caesar him-
self (though some modern scholars have suggested it was Caesar’s depu-
ties), forbidding entry under various legal statutes, that is, interposing his
veto power under the circumstances. In the most colorful version of the
exchange, Caesar scolded Metellus for not realizing that the time for legali-
ties had passed, that they had entered a time in which force would decide
matters instead, and that, in fact, all those in Rome were now his prisoners
of war. Since the tribune would still not back down, Caesar, uncharacteris-
tically, flared up with a threat of execution. Nevertheless, neither Metellus
nor anyone else in Rome had the keys to the vaults, since those were in the
hands of the consuls, who were with Pompey in southern Italy. Caesar had
little choice but to order his soldiers to break the doors open (a sacrilegious
act) with the help of some local blacksmiths. He removed 15,000 ingots
of gold, 30,000 ingots of silver, and more than 30 million sesterces in cur-
rency, even raiding the sacred stash that Romans had reserved for genera-
tions in case of another attack on the city by the Gauls (which had occurred
nearly three-and-a-half centuries earlier).
The aerarium Saturni also functioned as a formal depository for various
documents of public import. Among the Romans themselves, this especially
meant copies of laws and decrees of the Senate, as well as contracts between
the government and private companies for the provision of various ser-
vices. Pompey, for example, deposited his law regulating the elections and
terms of magistrates, carved traditionally on a bronze tablet, in the treasury
of Saturn. When later he ordered an insertion to be made to grant Caesar
special exemption for standing in absentia, which was otherwise prohibited
expressly by the law, there was some question as to whether a new law, duly
voted upon, enacted, engraved, and registered in the treasury could be re-
moved and modified in this way. Once placed “under Saturn’s care,” the
law had become a sort of sacred property, not to be tampered with lightly.
Foreigners, too, might deposit other sorts of documents, such as wills,
in the Roman state treasury, again, should they contain items of signifi-
cance to the Republic. The will of Ptolemy XII Auletes, king of Egypt,
for example, acknowledged Roman suzerainty over his kingdom and asked
839
Treasury
the Roman People to safeguard the succession of his four children to the
throne. As a result, he sought to deposit one copy of the document in aer-
ario, that is, in the Roman treasury.
The word aerarium in Latin was evidently not used during the Republic
to refer to just any treasury but only to that in Rome’s Temple of Saturn.
For example, despite the English translations that use the term “treasury”
to refer to the money deposited by Pompey’s lieutenant, Domitius Aheno-
barbus, with the magistrates of the central Italian town of Corfinium, Cae-
sar, in his own account of events during the Civil War, does not call this
aerarium but rather pecunia publica, “public money,” given to Domitius
by Pompey to pay the troops. Indeed, Caesar would have us (and his con-
temporaries) believe that he returned these funds to Domitius after defeat-
ing the latter at Corfinium because the money “legitimately” belonged to
Pompey (by way of his lieutenant) on the orders of the Senate. He simply
calls this money publicly deposited (in publico deposuerat). Similarly, Caesar
refers to the state treasury handed over to him through the surrender of the
city of Massilia (modern Marseilles) as pecuniam ex publico, “funds from the
public,” again not aerarium.
Caesar knew how the treasury worked and showed his contempt for its
sanctity in favor of his own needs and ambitions. According to some re-
ports, he had even placed his own slaves and freedmen in charge of its oper-
ation, a clear insult to the institution and to the Senate that oversaw it, but
otherwise an act of pure pragmatism. Having spent the aerarium nearly dry
as a result of the Civil War, he tried to make amends through legislation that
reduced government spending, through fines upon and exactions from for-
eign allies of the Pompeians, and even by demanding payment for privileges
conferred by Rome (i.e., Caesar) upon foreign rulers. In all these ways, he
managed to increase the resources in the aerarium Saturni to something
like 175 million denarii by the time of his assassination. He also left its care
to two aediles, officials of slightly higher rank than the quaestors, perhaps
in an attempt to restore his image as a friend of the treasury.
See also: Coinage/Money; Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE); Domitius Ahenobar-
bus (d. 48 BCE); Forum Romanum; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE); Religion,
Roman; Senate; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
sity Press.
840
Trebonius (d. 43 BCE)

C. Trebonius illustrates perhaps better than any other figure of the Late
Republic the independence of the “everyday senator” from any “party af-
filiation” in ancient Roman politics, as compared, for instance, with the
modern American political scene. Characterized by scholars as vacillating
between political factions (particularly, the factions of Julius Caesar and
Pompey the Great), Trebonius, in reality, did as many Roman senators,
searching out the best advantages for himself and sticking with one power-
ful leader or another only as long as he considered their goals appropriate
and personally beneficial.
Trebonius emerges from the ancient sources for the first time in 60 BCE,
when he held the office of quaestor (financial magistrate) in Rome. During
his term, he was one of those politicians who opposed the intentions of P.
Claudius Pulcher (commonly known as Clodius). Clodius had developed
an intense hatred for one of Trebonius’s good friends, the famous orator
Cicero; he intended to utilize the office of plebeian tribune (the powers of
which he considered ideal for the purpose) to destroy Cicero’s life. To be-
come tribune, however, Clodius had to relinquish his status as a patrician
(a member of Rome’s most blue-blooded families) and apply for adoption
into a plebeian family. He had this all arranged, but Trebonius, along with
the consuls of 60 (Afranius and Metellus Celer) and other magistrates, op-
posed and prevented the adoption, since they understood its true purpose.
In the following year, though, Clodius got his way in all things, with the
strong backing of Julius Caesar and his associates, Crassus and Pompey, the
so-called First Triumvirate. Trebonius apparently continued to resist Clo-
dius, however, endangering his own life against such a loose cannon in the
efforts launched to recall Cicero, who had been exiled, thanks to Clodius.
After all this dust had settled, Trebonius teamed up with the Triumvirs.
As plebeian tribune in 55 BCE, he proposed a law to grant provincial com-
mands to Crassus (who received the province of Syria and oversight in
the neighboring territories) and to Pompey (who received the provinces of
Spain), each for a period of five years. In addition, the motion authorized
each man to levy as many troops from both Roman citizens and allies, as
well as to make war or arrange peace in their provinces, as each saw fit. Two
of his colleagues in the tribunate, C. Ateius Capito and P. Aquilius Gal-
lus, attempted to derail Trebonius’s measure; the young Optimate orator
841
M. Favonius also spoke out in opposition, as did M. Porcius Cato, leader of

the Optimates. Cato, at least, recognized that there was no way to prevent
the measure with the coalition of Caesar, Crassus, and Pompey behind it,
but he still made the best stand he could against it; by talking out his al-
lotted time and forcing Trebonius to make a show of dragging him off the
Speakers’ Platform and into detention, Cato gave the assembled voters a
clear proof of the unjust power being exercised by the Triumvirs.
At this informal meeting (contio) of the People of Rome, so many private
citizens took the opportunity to express their opinions on this heated mat-
ter that the two opposing tribunes did not even have a chance to speak their
views. Gallus decided, therefore, to sleep overnight in the Senate House
so that he could be the first one to ascend the Speakers’ Platform (located
right outside) at dawn on the following day; Trebonius, however, locked
him inside the building and did not let him out for hours. In the meantime,
the latter’s supporters crowded into the assembly area (Comitium) outside;
they tried to stop Capito, Favonius, Cato, and other opponents from enter-
ing, but these found clever ways to do so anyway. For instance, Cato and
Capito climbed on the shoulders of those standing around the edge of the
Comitium and, from his perch, Capito proclaimed a warning about bad
omens, which normally would have necessitated dissolving the meeting.
In the event, however, the supporters of Trebonius, many of whom were
soldiers Caesar had furloughed from his army, turned to roughing up op-
ponents of the proposal, including Capito and Cato; many people were
driven from the Forum in this way, many badly wounded in the confron-
tation, including Gallus, and a few even killed. Capito, however, incensed
by the sight of his colleague all covered in blood, and building on popular
disgust at this, soon stirred up renewed resistance to Trebonius. Pompey
and Crassus, as consuls, then entered the scene with their bodyguards, re-
stored order to the assembly, and compelled a vote on Trebonius’s motion.
Not surprisingly, it passed into law. They followed this up with a law of their
own to extend also the provincial command of Caesar for an additional five
years and under the same terms as theirs.
For his efforts as tribune, Trebonius received a reward, a posting as lega-
tus, a lieutenant commander, in the army of Caesar from the end of his term
of office through 50 BCE. He accompanied Caesar on his second expedition
into Britain, commanded forces against the Belgae (especially in the puni-
tive operations after the rebellion of Ambiorix), and expertly countered the
assaults of Vercingetorix’s troops during the famous Siege of Alesia (along-
side Marc Antony).
Trebonius continued to serve Caesar when the Civil War broke out be-
tween the latter and Pompey. After the city of Massilia in southern Gaul
(Marseilles, France) declared itself for Pompey’s side in the first year of the
conflict, Caesar placed Trebonius in charge of ground forces to conduct
842
the siege of the town, an ever-challenging business that ended in success

for Trebonius after six months. In the following year, 48 BCE, Caesar wel-
comed Trebonius back to Rome with another reward, the office of urban
praetor, which placed him just one rank below Caesar himself as consul and
made him the chief judicial official over Roman citizens. This placed Tre-
bonius at odds with another of Caesar’s supporters, M. Caelius Rufus, who
had hoped for that appointment himself; even though Caesar gave him the
next best thing, the peregrine praetorship (the judicial official over resident
aliens and foreign visitors to Rome), Caelius resented it and lashed out at
Trebonius by vetoing everything he did in office. Indeed, Caelius went fur-
ther by opposing Caesar’s laws on loans and rent payments, attempting to
foment a sort of social revolution in Rome of debtors and renters against
their creditors and landlords; in this uprising, Trebonius almost lost his life
(which is what Caelius really wanted) and barely escaped the city in dis-
guise. The Senate and Caesar’s consular colleague, Servilius Isauricus, put
a stop to all this within Rome itself; Caelius fled southward to try to stir up
support for his cause but failed and was eventually killed by Caesar’s cavalry.
The rest of Trebonius’s praetorship appears to have gone smoothly and
he proceeded in the next year to the governorship of Further Spain. Since
the summer of 49 BCE, both Spanish provinces had come under Caesar’s au-
thority, but his legions there and some of the local communities had grown
restless and, in fact, mutinous. Part of Trebonius’s mission was to restore
order; he had previous experience of the region, having fought against the
lieutenants of Pompey there in the first year of the Civil War. However, the
agents of Metellus Scipio, father-in-law of the now-deceased Pompey and
acknowledged leader of the survivors of his faction, had come to Spain to
reclaim it by inciting more trouble for Caesar’s side; chief among those
agents was Pompey’s eldest son, Cnaeus Pompeius. Inspired by his arrival,
the mutinous legionaries and rebellious locals eventually forced Trebonius
out of the peninsula. Caesar then personally took up the campaign against
the Pompeians in Spain. He apparently sent Trebonius back to Rome and,
on his own victorious return in the fall of 45 BCE, appointed his loyal legate
as suffect (“fill-in”) consul for the remainder of the year. Again, Trebonius
had received his ample reward.
After all this, however, Trebonius turned against Caesar. In fact, he
seems to have done so already before Caesar’s return from Spain; he even
mentioned something to Marc Antony, who kept it secret instead of re-
porting it to Caesar. The reason, evidently, for Trebonius’s change of heart
was animosity toward Caesar’s kind of dictatorship, which made everyone,
including his old comrades, feel like pawns in a game played only by Cae-
sar. In wartime, this might have been satisfactory, but it was not once peace
resumed. Thus, many Caesarians participated in the Conspiracy of the Lib-
erators to assassinate Caesar in 44 BCE. While other members of the plot
843
attacked him during a meeting of the Senate on the Ides of March, Trebo-
nius fulfilled his assigned task by keeping Marc Antony outside, engaged in
conversation. Trebonius later expressed in a letter to Cicero his pride in the
part he had played, the sense of achievement he felt in ridding Rome of a
“tyrant.” Cicero had applauded the assassination, but he blamed Trebonius
(and Brutus) for not eliminating Antony, too.
Before his death, Caesar had officially assigned Trebonius to govern the
Roman province of Asia (western Turkey today), and under the turbulent
conditions in Rome following the fallen dictator’s funeral, Trebonius liter-
ally had to sneak off to his province so as not to set off any further popu-
lar uproar against himself. Soon, the leaders of the Conspiracy, Brutus and
Cassius, secretly contacted him, asking him to collect money and troops for
the looming head-on confrontation with Antony. He did so, and went fur-
ther in fortifying key towns in the province against possible attack.
The attack came, but not from Antony. Another adversary appeared, a
much more cunning one, in the person of P. Cornelius Dolabella. He had
served under Caesar for a number of years and the latter planned to reward
him with a suffect consulship in 44 BCE; that is, if Caesar had left for his
projected war against the Parthian Empire, he would have handed over the
remainder of his own term as consul to Dolabella. Instead, Caesar was as-
sassinated, but Dolabella still wanted that office; the other consul of that
year, Antony, stood in opposition, however. Dolabella turned on Antony,
posed as a friend of Caesar’s assassins and assumed the consulship anyway,
receiving from the Senate a special appointment as governor of the prov-
ince of Syria to boot.
This proved to be the undoing of Trebonius, who did suspect treachery
from Dolabella, but not quite as much as he should have. Early in 43 BCE,
when the latter passed through Asia on the way to his own province (en-
gaging in wholesale plunder all along), Trebonius did not permit his entry
into the important towns of Pergamum or Smyrna, but, out of respect for
his office, he did allow him and his men to gather provisions from Ephesus.
All the while, a detachment of Trebonius’s army followed Dolabella. Hav-
ing done so until nightfall, and seeing no cause for concern in Dolabella’s
actions, most of the troops returned to Smyrna, leaving only a few to keep
watch on him.
Yet, Dolabella set an ambush for them, captured and killed them, and
then turned around unexpectedly and arrived at Smyrna under cover of
darkness. His men carefully scaled the walls of the city, secured it for them-
selves, and even captured Trebonius, sleeping in his bed. One of Dolabel-
la’s centurions, on explicit orders, cut off the head of Trebonius rather than
taking him alive and brought it to his commander, who put it on display
the following morning on the chair from which Trebonius had delivered
his official pronouncements. Dolabella’s soldiers took the rest of the body
844
Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE)
and furiously attacked it; they also played with his head as though it were a
game ball in the streets of the city. A fitting punishment, as they saw it, for
the man who had helped to kill Caesar by preventing Marc Antony from
coming to his rescue.
The death of Trebonius and the mutilation of his corpse sent a clear sig-
nal to the other Conspirators; he was the first of their number to be pun-
ished for the killing of Caesar and each of them had to fear such an end now.
See also: Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE); Ambiorix; Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca.
83–30 BCE); Belgae; Britain; Brutus (ca. 85–42 BCE); Cassius (ca. 85–42
BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52
BCE); Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE ); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE ); Dic-
tator; Exile; Extraordinary Commands; Forum Romanum; Ides of March;
Magistrates/Cursus Honorum; Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE); Omens; Opti-
mates; Patricians; Plebs; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Popular Assemblies; Spain;
Triumvirate; Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)
Further Reading
Ltd.
lishing.
Publishing.
lishing.
University Press.

In 63 BCE, during the consulship of M. Tullius Cicero, the famous orator
and author, two high-profile trials took place, ostensibly to punish a single
senator, C. Rabirius, but in reality to tarnish the reputation of a whole array
845
of senators and to call into question the Senate’s authority to eliminate ren-
egades among its members. One of the orchestrators, if not the principal
one, behind these trials of Rabirius was Julius Caesar.
Thirty-seven years earlier, Rabirius had allegedly been involved in the
murder of L. Appuleius Saturninus, a hero among the plebs and the Popu-
lares who loved to take on more conservative members of the Senate and,
at the time of his death, was serving as one of the plebeian tribunes. He
had also gained the support of General Marius (Caesar’s uncle by marriage)
and had worked hard to promote the latter’s political and military career; in
exchange, Marius’s soldiers voted in favor of Saturninus’s policies, such as
agricultural reforms, assistance for the urban plebs, and, of course, land for
veterans upon discharge, all funded by the state. One of his most controver-
sial new laws was the institution of a permanent court for the prosecution
of treasonous acts, which he defined broadly as diminishing or damaging
the maiestas (prestige, greatness, and majesty) of Rome; it was not that the
Romans had never punished fellow citizens for treason (technically, perdu-
ellio) before, but rather that Saturninus wanted to provide a more stream-
lined process for doing so and one that took into account flagrant abuses
of power or dereliction of duty as “treasonous,” open acts of aggression
against the state. His revision of the concept of treason in Roman law and
politics thus particularly targeted corrupt, incompetent, self-serving mem-
bers of the Senate itself.
Saturninus increasingly employed armed gangs of poor Romans and vet-
erans against political opponents (even arranging the murder of one of
them), changing the landscape of Roman politics by doing so, and losing
the backing of Marius in the process. When the Senate turned to the latter
in his capacity as consul to put a stop to the violence unleashed by Saturni-
nus, Marius had no choice (even if he had wanted otherwise) but to com-
ply. Authorized by the ultimate decree of the Senate (the senatus consultum
ultimum [SCU]), Marius and most of the other elected magistrates of
100 BCE took up arms themselves and ordered the male citizens of Rome to
do the same; they thus surrounded the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus
upon the Capitoline Hill (in which Saturninus and his few comrades had
taken refuge). During this siege, an angry mob, including Rabirius appar-
ently, rushed the building, tore open the tiles of the roof, and attacked the
refugees within; Saturninus and his allies lost their lives in the same sort of
violence they themselves had promoted, while their assailants were hailed as
heroes. These deaths, like those of the Gracchi brothers and their followers
in an earlier time, as well as the eliminations of Popularis politicians after-
ward down to the time of the proscriptions ordered by the dictator Sulla,
only seemed to strengthen the resolve of the more conservative members
of the Senate to employ murder as the means to silence opposition voices
within the Roman elite.
846
Unlike Rabirius, who evidently gloried in his bloody deed (even dis-
playing the severed head of Saturninus at a dinner party, according to one
story), Julius Caesar never seems to have felt comfortable with the notion
of killing fellow citizens for having opposing views (at least, fellow members
of the aristocracy); even later, when he himself employed gangs of thugs to
intimidate his opponents, he never countenanced their murder, and when
he eventually became the most powerful figure in Rome, he prided himself
on mercifully pardoning those defeated by him.
His attack on Rabirius fit Caesar in another way as well, in terms of his
pattern of political behavior; for more than a decade, the latter had been
going after supporters of Sulla (an enemy of Caesar’s inherited from his
father-in-law, Cinna, and his uncle, Marius), who embodied for many Ro-
mans political repression at its harshest. Caesar had himself brought two
former Sullani, Dolabella and Antonius, to court but had failed to gain
a conviction in either case; his attempts, nonetheless, brought him fame
both as a speaker and as an opponent of Sulla’s legacy within the Senate.
As quaestor seven years later, he promoted the memory and reputations of
Marius and Cinna in delivering the very public funeral eulogies for the for-
mer’s wife and the latter’s daughter, and four years after that, he went even
further in resurrecting the prestige of uncle Marius by restoring copies of
his military monuments to the Capitoline Hill, whereas Sulla had torn them
down. Lastly, in the year before the trials of Rabirius, Caesar again went on
a sort of prosecuting spree as the judge in charge of the court for murder;
he openly sought to punish individuals who had profited from the killing of
fellow citizens under the dictatorship of Sulla.
In other words, since 77 BCE, Caesar had tried to discredit Sulla and his
minions in his own, various ways; the murder of Saturninus by Rabirius
may not have involved Sulla directly (we do not know the latter’s role in
the affair), but it belonged to the larger trend of repressive action that made
Sullan-style policies acceptable to many in the Senate. Caesar, and who-
ever else was working with him behind the scenes of this case, was willing
to countenance the public execution of Rabirius as a deterrent against any
further “emergency” executions ordered by the Senate.
According to the Imperial biographer Suetonius, Caesar bribed T. La-
bienus, then one of the plebeian tribunes, to charge Rabirius with treason.
Chances are that Labienus had his own strong reasons for doing so, bribe
or no bribe, since his uncle had been among the associates of Saturninus
allegedly killed by Rabirius. Still, the evidence from Suetonius, and oth-
ers, serves to remind us just how determined was Caesar in seeing Rabirius
brought to trial.
Labienus proposed to one of the Popular Assemblies (probably the
Meeting of the Plebeians) a special law to revive the old-fashioned proce-
dure for perduellio or treason; it passed and a board of two men (duumviri
847
perduellionis) was established to try the case of Rabirius. One of the prae-
tors (most of whom at Rome served as judicial officials) then identified eli-
gible senators to serve on the board and a lottery was employed to select
the particular two men from those listed; these were Julius Caesar and one
of his cousins (an uncle of Marc Antony). Suetonius’s claim that Caesar
(and by association, his cousin) came to be the judges simply by this lottery
seems a far stretch of the imagination, considering Caesar’s interest in the
case; it is doubtful that he would have left things up to chance in that way
and more likely that he exerted some influence over the process to guaran-
tee that the board of two would be his to control.
Despite all the factors in Caesar’s favor, he faced a serious obstacle in the
person of the consul Cicero. The latter recognized what Caesar and Labi-
enus were trying to do and, as a whole-hearted supporter of Rabirius and
a whole-hearted believer in the actions that the Senate and magistrates had
taken against Saturninus, Cicero vetoed the board of two outright, stop-
ping its procedures in their tracks. This could not, however, stop Labienus
from bringing Rabirius’s case before the Popular Assembly known as the
Assembly of Centuries, which had the authority to hear cases of perduellio
(though this had come to be quite rare in recent generations).
Cicero took on the role of Rabirius’s attorney. In his defense speech,
Cicero exonerated Rabirius, identifying the actual killer as a slave called
Scaeva, but reminded the People of Rome that his client did not deny
having participated in the actions against Saturninus and his associates; he
would have been glad to have been the killer. According to Cicero, Rabir-
ius responded from the depths of patriotism to the ultimate decree issued
by the Senate and the magistrates’ summoning of all loyal citizens to arms;
he proudly served his country against a rebel and a renegade as did many
other members of the Senate who were still living. Cicero challenged La-
bienus to bring them all to trial, if he dared, as well as many other citizens
who had participated in the event, and thus reveal the true purpose of
this prosecution: to make Rabirius an example, to terrify the Senate into
never issuing the SCU again against a “Popularis” agitator, and to render
the state helpless against radical extremists. Perhaps most damaging of all
to Labienus’s prosecution was Cicero’s repetition of the fact that such an
avowed Popularis, as the tribune claimed to be, was seeking the execution
of Rabirius by the old-fashioned method for perduellio, crucifixion on the
open field of the Campus Martius (just outside the city proper). Labeling
this goal as “barbarous,” Cicero claimed to be the true Popularis rather
than Labienus.
As Suetonius asserts rightly, the Roman People could so clearly see the
biases of the prosecution toward Rabirius that they questioned the valid-
ity of the charges against him. Also, many Populares were known for prin-
cipled opposition to the death penalty, as Cicero made a point of stressing.
848
On the other hand, the fate of Saturninus and his comrades, believed to
have been under a pledge of safe-conduct from the government at the
time of their murder, still stuck in the craw of many Romans almost forty
years afterward, and many of them also believed that Rabirius had been
at the forefront of the bloody deed. The outcome of the trial, then, could
not be predicted from any assumptions about the voters gathered in the
assembly.
In the end, the Assembly had no chance to make a decision. Q. Caecilius
Metellus Celer, the conservative urban praetor, employed the antiquated
custom of halting proceedings of the Assembly by raising the red flag high
atop the Janiculum Hill; this would be akin to sounding an evacuation
alarm, like an air-raid siren, in modern times. The Assembly automatically
broke up, the citizens returning “for safety” to their homes. In the after-
math of this, Labienus did not seek to renew the trial. Despite the fact
that Rabirius had been on the Popularis “hit list” for some time (he had
been brought to trial already at least six times on other charges), the issue
had never been whether he had participated in some way in the murder of
Saturninus and his associates, but rather whether that sort of killing of a cit-
izen should have taken place at all, whether the Senate had the right to call
on the magistrates and the People of Rome to engage in the destruction of
one of their own. Labienus, and Caesar, had gained the attention and the
publicity for that question as they wanted, without having to execute the
elderly Rabirius. Cicero, on the other hand, having defended the Senate’s
position, would have to do so again in a matter of months to address the
Conspiracy of Catiline.
See also: Campus Martius; Capitoline Hill; Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE);
Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Courts; Crucifixion; Eulogies/Imagines;
Gangs; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Marius (ca.157–86 BCE); Optimates; Plebs;
Popular Assemblies; Populares; Senate; Senatus Consultum Ultimum; Sue-
tonius (ca.70–130 CE); Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Michigan Press.
Clarendon Press.
University Press.
Lintott, A. W. 1993. 1968. Violence in Republican Rome. Oxford, UK: Clarendon
Press.
849
Triumphs/Trophies

University Press.
Triumphs/Trophies
Probably the grandest example of public spectacle in Rome, and very char-
acteristic of Roman social and cultural values, was the triumph, the pro-
cession of a general into the city of Rome at the conclusion of a victorious
campaign. Not every successful commander celebrated a triumph; Julius
The Triumph of Julius Caesar (Plate 9) by Andrea Andreani, ca. 1598/1599. This
wooden engraving closely copies an original, very large painting by Andrea Mantegna,
ca. 1485 to 1495, commissioned by Francesco Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, Italy as
part of a series of such works. The original and Andreani’s engraving both capture the
Renaissance fascination with ancient spectacle. (Library of Congress)
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Triumphs/Trophies
Sculpted bronze plate showing King Juba I of Numidia led in triumph by

Julius Caesar. In fact, Juba I died of suicide; Caesar paraded his infant son,
Juba II, in the triumphal procession. (Averlino, Antonio, called Filarete
(sculptor), Italian, c. 1400–1469/National Gallery of Art)
Caesar, for example, famously gave up his opportunity of celebrating a tri-

umph in honor of his military successes in Spain to stand for public office
(the two things were mutually exclusive under the circumstances at the
time). Even as late as the fifth century CE, the Christian historian Orosius
noted that there had been only 320 triumphs celebrated in the entire his-
tory of Rome. Still, some triumphators celebrated multiple times, as for in-
stance, Pompey, who triumphed three times, and especially Caesar, whose
famous triumphal ceremony in 46 BCE included, in fact, four triumphs
(over Egypt, Pontus, Libya, and Gaul); whereas Pompey’s third triumph
lasted an unprecedented two days, Caesar’s quadruple celebration lasted
from September 20 through October 1. Long before their time, “hunt-
ing for triumphs” had become the pastime of almost every Roman senator
given any sort of military command during the Republic; as in the case of
Caesar when he sought to govern Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul (north-
ern Italy and southern France, respectively) to have the chance of warring
with the Gallic tribes to the north, the attraction of gaining a triumph cap-
tivated the Roman elite.
Either by messenger or more formally on his return to Rome, the victo-
rious commander would ask to meet the Senate in the Temple of Bellona,
the war goddess, outside the sacred boundary of the city on the Campus
Martius; he could not cross the boundary or he would forfeit his military
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Triumphs/Trophies
command and his right to triumph. The commander would ask the sena-
tors to consider his merits for the award of such an honor and would ask
that such honor be paid to the immortal gods who made his success pos-
sible. The Senate then judged him by how many of the enemy forces his
army had killed (the accepted minimum was 5,000, a paltry figure in real
terms, dating back to traditions associated with the wars of the early Re-
public), by how worthy those opposing forces had been, by how hard the
fight, by how honorable the victory, and by the role of the commander in
that success.
Naturally, much of this judgment was left up to the discretion of the
senators, but the soldiers also played a key role; they observed all these fac-
tors as well on the field of battle and determined for themselves whether
they should hail their commander deservedly with the title of imperator
(“victorious leader”—Caesar was thus hailed by his troops in honor of his
military successes during his governorship of Spain). Their view would also
have been heard through the Centuriate Assembly, which had the right to
support or contest the Senate’s decision; there are recorded cases of denied
requests and of senatorial decisions contested on the grounds of insufficient
evidence, of conflicting reports of campaigns, and of obstruction by the
plebeian tribunes. Political antagonism often entered into the deliberations,
as when the plebeian tribune C. Memmius attempted to stir up the voters
against L. Licinius Lucullus, who had petitioned for a triumph in honor
of his victories over the kings of Pontus and Armenia. Memmius accused
Lucullus of having deliberately prolonged the war to satisfy his own greed
for spoils (something that many other commanders did engage in and for
which few were in fact ever punished); members of the Senate actually had
to canvass among the voters to save Lucullus’s right to triumph.
So, the Senate and People of Rome had to agree to confirm what the
fighting men had already acknowledged. If they did so, then a date was as-
signed for the triumph and the commander temporarily relinquished his
imperium (formal power of command), disbanding his troops until the day
of the event arrived.
On the appointed day, the Senate authorized the commander’s im-
perium once more and sanctioned that this power continue even within
the pomerium or sacred boundary of the city, over which no commander,
under normal circumstances, might pass while still holding command of
his armed forces; this was the issue that had faced Caesar when he returned
from his governorship of Spain: to run for the consulship, he would have to
give up his imperium, but to hold a triumph, he would have to remain in
command—he chose the latter. Having called his troops back together, the
triumphing commander gathered them in the parade ground of the Cam-
pus Martius where they decked themselves out with all their finest uniforms,
equipment, and awards. This was a time when he had the opportunity to
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Triumphs/Trophies
make speeches to the soldiers and to the throngs of spectators, to all of

whom he might distribute spoils from his campaign; he might also make
vows to the gods and for the dedication of monuments or buildings in
honor of the gods and his own achievements.
The procession followed a formalized route through the porta trium-
phalis into the Circus Flaminius, an open area alongside the Tiber River
surrounded by votive temples, statues, and military monuments; some com-
manders, like Lucullus, for instance, temporarily placed on display in the
Circus Flaminius the large quantities of arms and machines of war captured
from the enemy. From the Circus Flaminius, the parade proceeded through
the Forum Boarium, past or across the Circus Maximus, around the eastern
side of the Palatine Hill, and into the Roman Forum, where huge crowds
gathered to watch under standing-room-only conditions and the officials of
state sat on specially reserved benches. Continuing along the Via Sacra, it
wended its way through the Forum and finally up a long, curving ramp to
the Capitoline Hill and the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.
Members of the Senate, accompanied by trumpeters, led the procession.
Behind them were carried large wooden placards identifying the peoples or
kingdoms that had been defeated (e.g., the sixteen enemy groups named
during Pompey’s triumph of 61 BCE) and visual representations of the de-
feated enemies and their territory and of the campaigns themselves, some
of these large wooden panels painted by the foremost artists of the day. As
in the case of Pompey’s and Lucullus’s triumphs, large placards might also
record statistical information for all to see, such as detailed lists of all the
cities, fortresses, and ships captured, the numbers of prisoners and fallen, all
the wealth taken in the war, and how it was distributed by the commander
to his men and the treasury.
The panels with images often depicted trophies, and sometimes, as in
Pompey’s second triumph, actual trophies were carried in the proces-
sion. These symbols of victory had been invented by the Greeks. On the
field of battle, they would often display an enemy’s captured armor (per-
haps the leader’s) hanging on a wooden post for all to see. The Romans,
who were familiar with the notion of placing enemy possessions on display
(e.g., the beaks of captured ships attached to the speaker’s platform in the
Roman Forum, from which it acquired the name Rostra), eagerly adopted
this practice. And like the Greeks, in addition to setting up trophies on
the battlefield, Romans painted and sculpted representations of them. The
“trophies of Marius” were such sculptures, recreated and re-erected by his
nephew, Julius Caesar, in 65 BCE. Marius had been honored by triumphs
twice for his victories over serious foreign enemies, but the originals of his
commemorative trophies had been torn down and destroyed sixteen years
earlier at the end of the Civil War that had brought his rival, Sulla, to power
as dictator of Rome. Caesar arranged for artisans to secretly create gilded
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Triumphs/Trophies
statues of Marius and winged Victories (goddesses resembling modern an-

gels) holding trophies, and then placed them, without proper authoriza-
tion, on the Capitoline Hill where Marius’s monuments had once stood.
Popular support for this deed ensured that these “trophies” would not be
removed, despite senatorial disapproval.
Returning to the triumphal procession: after the floats with painted pan-
els came wagons full of the spoils of the war, followed by garlanded white
bulls for sacrifice to Jupiter. Next, prisoners of war, especially enemy leaders
and their families, rode on horseback or walked on foot, loaded with chains
or tied with ropes, human symbols of defeat for the assembled crowds to
gawk at and humiliate in various ways. After all this, the general himself,
preceded by lictors and trumpeters and surrounded by young male and
female relatives on tracer horses, appeared, riding in a tower-shaped char-
iot (sometimes alone and sometimes with young relatives) drawn by four
white horses, which also might be ridden by his young relatives; the chariot
was decked out with a bell, whip, and phallus, all symbols meant to ward
off the evil eye, the psychic hostility of the universe generated by envy of
human accomplishments. This was also the purpose of the bag of objects
the general wore on his chest. He was dressed in a purple tunic decorated
with palm motifs (symbols of victory) and a purple toga glittering with gold
embroidered stars; his face was smeared with red paint, and he wore a laurel
crown, carried a laurel branch in his right hand and an ivory scepter in his
left with a gold eagle on top. All this gave the triumphator the appearance
of Jupiter Optimus Maximus; some of the items were even borrowed from
that god’s temple treasury for the occasion. The last people of the proces-
sion were the troops, the officers of rank and then the soldiers, usually in
their units. Along the way, they all continually shouted, Io triumphe! or “I
triumph!” since they each shared in the honor of their general.
Once the general reached the top of the Capitoline Hill (Caesar did so
accompanied by forty elephants carrying torches in their trunks), the pro-
cession awaited the announcement of the execution of the enemy com-
mander or his representatives, usually by strangulation after his or their
final scourging or other forms of humiliation. Once this was done, the tri-
umphator ascended the steps of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus
(sources tell us that Caesar did so on his knees as a sign of humility) and at-
tendants brought along the bulls to be sacrificed at the altar in front of the
temple. The ceremony concluded with a banquet (as at one of Caesar’s tri-
umphs, where 20,000 dining couches, each accommodating at least three
guests, were set out) and general festivities (like Caesar’s gladiatorial and
naval spectacles).
Not all events in the ceremony were glorious and solemn; there were also
the typically Roman, paradoxical elements. For instance, in the chariot next
to the triumphator stood a slave holding a gold crown over the general’s
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Triumvirate
head and repeating the words, “Look behind you; remember you are only
a human.” The troops sang not only of their general’s and their own ex-
ploits, but also lewd, condescending, satirical insults of him (in Caesar’s
case, even about his sexual behavior). Even in triumph, a Roman general
was reminded of his limitations and to whom he owed his victory.
The triumph, like other Roman spectacles, heralded Roman achievement
and honor, gave vent to the emotional patriotism of the general public,
and affirmed social and political beliefs in a communal setting; it was thus a
method of cohesion and a cementing of group identity. The tradition could
be abused, as, for example, when Caesar returned to Rome after having de-
feated the armies of Pompey’s sons in Spain and celebrated a triumph in the
fall of 45 BCE as though they had been foreign enemies, an act viewed with
great distaste across Roman society. Nevertheless, any triumph legitimated
the status of the elite, asserted the importance of military service and glory,
and proclaimed the stability and durability of Roman power.
See also: Festivals; Games; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Lucullus (118–57 BCE);
Further Reading
Beard, M. 2007. The Roman Triumph. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Versnel, H. M. 1970. Triumphus: An Inquiry into the Origin, Development, and
Meaning of the Roman Triumph. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill Publishers.
Triumvirate
In 60 BCE, on his return to Rome from serving as governor in Spain, Julius
Caesar brought together the rival senators Pompey and Crassus to form a
coalition; they pooled their influence and resources to defend their indi-
vidual, and mutual, political interests. Modern scholars refer to this as the
“First Triumvirate”; Romans would have called it coitio, a temporary, extra-
legal association of powerful political leaders. Such things were no novelty
in Roman politics, but the scale and clout of the First Triumvirate was truly
unprecedented.
Creation of the First Triumvirate was precipitated by the actions of the
enemies of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar in the Roman Senate. Pompey
returned to Italy late in 62 BCE from his victorious and much-publicized
military campaigns in Asia Minor (modern Turkey), Armenia, Syria, and
Judaea. He disbanded his troops and made two requests to the Senate: first,
that it officially ratify the political, military, and economic settlements he
had arranged in the East and, second, that his 40,000 discharged veterans
855
Triumvirate
be given land as compensation for their services to the state. His oppo-
nents, primarily the Optimates led by Cato, insisted on examining his ar-
rangements detail-by-detail before approving them as a whole, a process
that intentionally would take a great deal of time and was unsatisfactory in
a practical sense for the governing of Rome’s new territories in the East. In
hopes of circumventing this obstructionism, Pompey used blatant bribery
to get one of his officers, L. Afranius, elected as a consul for 60 BCE; Afra-
nius could achieve nothing for Pompey, however, blocked as he was by the
objections of his consular colleague, Q. Metellus Celer. Metellus Celer also
essentially prevented L. Flavius, a plebeian tribune friendly to Pompey’s
cause, from putting forward a land distribution bill for Pompey’s veterans.
Meanwhile, Crassus faced a similar standoff with the Senate. The publi-
cani, Rome’s tax-collecting contractors, had approached him to represent
their concerns to the Senate, specifically to plead with the Senate to mod-
ify the terms of their tax contracts to account for a serious shortfall in tax
revenues and thus save the publicani from bankruptcy. Under the Roman
tax-farming system, the publicani paid the Senate a certain sum of money
upfront, in expectation of recovering that money by collecting taxes in par-
ticular provinces. In this case, the agricultural harvests in the province of
Asia (western Turkey today) had not been good, and the provincial popu-
lation therefore could not pay its projected tax quotas. The Senate, led by
Cato and the Optimates again, insisted that the publicani could not rework
their contracts for special favors. By sticking to the letter of the law in this
way, the Senate insulted Crassus and his business allies.
Into this state of affairs, Caesar returned from Further (southern) Spain.
He, too, found himself up against a senatorial wall when he asked special
permission to stand for the consulship and to celebrate a triumph in honor
of the military and diplomatic successes of his provincial governorship. Ac-
cording to Roman custom, a triumphator technically continued in com-
mand of his troops, and so could not also enter the city to run for election
as a civilian. Caesar’s hopes to avoid this technicality through special dis-
pensation from the Senate were squashed by Cato and the Optimates, who
simply ignored Caesar’s request; it eventually became a dead letter.
Caesar turned to Pompey and Crassus. He had maintained friendly per-
sonal and political relations with each of them for almost a decade, co-
operating with their agents, backing their agendas whenever possible; he
assured them that as consul he could get for each of them what had been
refused by the Senate. He also invited Cicero, a long-time friend of his
and Pompey’s, to join the coalition; Cicero had, after all, spoken openly in
support of Pompey’s and Crassus’s requests. Cicero felt, however, that he
would compromise his freedom of action and perhaps his integrity if he got
involved.
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Triumvirate
The “gang of three” pooled their enormous resources in money and

men (especially veterans and clients from among “new men” in the Sen-
ate, members of the equestrian order, and recently enfranchised Italians)
to back Caesar (who sacrificed his right to a triumph) and L. Lucceius (a
wealthy friend of Pompey’s) as the consuls for 59 BCE. Unfortunately for
the “First Triumvirate,” Lucceius lost, defeated by Cato’s son-in-law, M.
Bibulus; even the Optimates pulled out all the stops, using bribery and
other means to fund Bibulus’s campaign in such a way as to win enough
votes. Nevertheless, Caesar had become consul.
Caesar immediately began to fulfill his promises on assuming office. He
proposed a bill that would provide land for Pompey’s veterans, to be pur-
chased by the government with funds accrued from Pompey’s conquests
in the East. Obstructed by Bibulus, Cato, Metellus Celer, and other Op-
timates, Caesar bypassed the Senate and brought the bill to the Tribal
Assembly for a vote. Several tribunes loyal to the Optimates vetoed the
measure, and Bibulus declared that the religious omens were not favor-
able for any kind of meeting or vote. Caesar did not back down, but in-
stead called upon Crassus and Pompey for help. The latter summoned all
of his veterans who had come for the vote and Caesar employed them,
and his own clients, to physically force opponents out of the Forum. Free
from any further obstruction, and completely ignoring the protests from
Bibulus (who stayed hidden in his house for fear of his life), Caesar passed
his bill through the Assembly. By similar methods, Caesar’s ally, the ple-
beian tribune P. Vatinius, guaranteed passage of several laws that rati-
fied Pompey’s settlements in the East, remitted one-third of the financial
costs of the Asian tax contracts to the publicani, and secured for Caesar
the profitable, name-making, provincial command in Cisalpine Gaul for
five years.
These measures satisfied the immediate self-interests of the Triumvirs,
but they maintained their pact even after Caesar’s consulship. They man-
aged to get two henchmen, L. Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus and A. Gabin-
ius, elected as consuls for the following year. Another crony, the plebeian
tribune P. Clodius Pulcher, arranged for the dispatch of Cato on a mission
to Cyprus and the exile of Cicero from Rome; the latter, unwilling to co-
operate with the Triumvirs, had come to openly criticize their unconstitu-
tional methods. Clodius, thus, removed from the political arena the two
loudest critics of the Triumvirs’ continued influence; his maneuvers suc-
ceeded under the implied threat posed by Caesar’s provincial army still en-
camped near Rome. Even senators beholden neither to the Triumvirs nor
to their opponents stood up for Caesar in the face of charges (especially
from the praetor L. Domitius Ahenobarbus) that his measures had been
enacted illegally.
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Triumvirate
Despite the Triumvirate’s apparent strengths, it never exercised complete

control over Rome and, during Caesar’s absence in his provincial command
(which came to include Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul, and Illyricum), the
delicate coalition of interests he had established began to weaken and crack.
Both aristocratic and popular disapproval of the Triumvirs was aimed pri-
marily at Pompey, which delighted his long-time rival Crassus to no end.
Formerly mutually antagonistic citizens began to join forces against the Tri-
umvirate as a perceived threat to them all. And a new problem developed
when the loose cannon Clodius began criticizing Caesar as a sacrilegious
and unconstitutional official, and prosecuted several of Pompey’s associ-
ates, even openly threatening Pompey’s life.
The Triumvirs lost their grip on the consuls of 57 and 56 BCE; even
though the men elected were former associates and friends of theirs, they
were unreliable in their political allegiance. The political scene came to be
dominated by those who secured the recall of Cicero; the latter reconciled
personally with Pompey and worked to reconcile the latter politically with
the Optimates, which threatened a rift in the Triumvirate. Meanwhile, Clo-
dius’s violent methods increased, as he welded hundreds of Rome’s poor
into street gangs to advance his personal goals; conflicts between the gangs
of Clodius and those of his chief adversary, Milo, paralyzed the operations
of the government and further divided Crassus (who supported Clodius,
more or less) and Pompey (who supported Milo).
Caesar, though absent from Rome was present, nevertheless, through
his agents in the city and by means of frequent communication through
letters. He was growing apprehensive that his land laws would be re-
pealed and that his personal enemy, L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, would
win the consulship of 55 BCE, as well as assume command of Gaul. So,
in April 56 BCE, having already met with Crassus at Ravenna, he called
Pompey and Crassus to meet him at Luca (modern Lucca) in Cisalpine
Gaul. There the men ironed out whatever differences they had and re-
newed their pact by devising new goals. All three sought more political
and military honors, partly to overstep their foes and partly to compete
with each other.
Together, Pompey and Crassus did everything they could to stall the
consular elections of 56 BCE. Then, when elections were finally held, Cae-
sar’s troops, given special furloughs, came to Rome, not only to vote but
also to engage in acts of intimidation against political rivals (especially
Domitius Ahenobarbus); the henchmen and clients of Pompey and Crassus
employed large-scale bribery to force out competing candidates. All these
maneuvers of the renewed Triumvirate secured both consulships of 55 BCE:
one for Crassus and the other for Pompey. Similar methods secured a num-
ber of friendly aediles and praetors, and even kept Cato, who had returned
from Cyprus, from the praetorship he sought.
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Triumvirate
Once the elections were out of the way, a friendly tribune named C. Tre-
bonius put through the rest of the Triumvirs’ immediate plans. He enacted
a law that assigned Caesar five more years as governor of his provinces, gave
Crassus a five-year command in the province of Syria, and gave Pompey five
years as governor of the Spanish provinces. They had basically taken hold of
(or held on to, in Caesar’s case) territories where there were plenty of op-
portunities for military action. Crassus’s attention especially turned to the
East, where he sought great glory by provoking, and hopefully winning, a
war with the Parthian Empire; he left for Syria in November 55 BCE. Pom-
pey should have left for Spain, but on the pretext that his supervision of the
grain supply of Rome demanded his continued presence, he remained in
Italy, sending legates to govern his provinces for him.
Meanwhile, the Triumvirate did little to curb the violence in Rome, as
the gangs of Milo and Clodius continued to cause havoc; in fact, it is likely
that Crassus and Pompey encouraged the “gangsters” and allowed things
to get worse so that the Senate would be compelled by necessity to grant
them extraordinary powers to restore order. Such a move did not occur,
however, until after Crassus’s death at the hands of the Parthians in 53 BCE,
which effectively ended the Triumvirate. Early in the following year, the
Senate appointed Pompey sole consul, setting in motion the collision be-
tween him and Caesar.
The First Triumvirate satisfied to a certain degree the immediate ob-
jectives of Caesar, Crassus, and Pompey and significantly increased their
strong political influence, both collectively and individually. Yet, despite the
rhetoric of their critics, it did not gain them complete domination of the
Roman State. They did not exercise control over every election or official or
senator or even henchman; only at certain times did they mass their efforts
to attain a goal, always hard-won against clever, astute, determined political
and personal enemies; even after the renewal of their pact in 56 BCE, many
of their top adherents (e.g., Balbus, Gabinius, and Vatinius) found them-
selves hauled into court by such enemies. So, the Triumvirs struggled to
remain on top and, in fact, incited the formation of a true Optimate front
against them, so that, as a consequence, a few individual leaders on either
side came to manipulate Rome according to competing interests. In other
words, they conducted a Civil War through political mechanisms. More-
over, since the Triumvirs themselves intended to maintain positions in the
state such that they would not overshadow each other, their own mutual
rivalries, their personal striving for glory, dignitas, and power, made their
pact a major factor in the destabilizing of the Roman Republic.
See also: Bibulus (d. 48 BCE ); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43
BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Magistrates/Cursus
Honorum; Optimates; Pompey (106–48 BCE); Populares; Senate; Vatinius
859
Triumvirate
Further Reading
York: Penguin.
lishing.
860
U
Utica
Utica
This ancient Carthaginian town is survived by its modern descendant, Bordj
bou Chateur in Tunisia. Just as importantly, it is survived by its name-
sake, a city in New York State. What made the name Utica famous enough
to be remembered by American settlers was the suicide there in 46 BCE of
M. Porcius Cato, one of the key opponents of Julius Caesar.
As a leader of the Optimates, the hardline traditionalists in the Roman
Senate who had tried to halt Caesar’s rise to power, Cato eventually sided
with Caesar’s chief competitor in power, Pompey; after Caesar had chased
Pompey out of Italy and defeated him in Greece, Cato took what fugitive
troops he could, as well as the fleet he had collected, and sought refuge,
and a base for further operations against Caesar, in North Africa.
The people of Utica had been clients of Pompey’s since his service in
their district during Sulla’s Civil War (84–82 BCE); they remained loyal to
Pompey’s lieutenants at the start of his Civil War with Caesar. The latter’s
legate, Curio, unsuccessfully besieged Utica in the summer of 49 BCE, los-
ing his life in battle against the Pompeian sympathizer, King Juba of Nu-
midia. On the arrival there of more Pompeians, especially Metellus Scipio
and Cato, after the Battle of Pharsalus in the summer of 48 BCE, Utica be-
came a prime target of Caesar’s.
Utica had a good harbor, access to the interior of the region by river,
and sat on a promontory that Caesar would have found difficult to scale.
Cato was in command of the town and recruited everyone he could find to
defend it. From its harbor, his comrade, Attius Varus, launched ships in a
failed attempt to intercept and destroy Caesar’s fleet.
Upon his overwhelming victory against Scipio’s army in the Battle of
Thapsus in the spring of 46 BCE, Caesar wasted little time in proceeding to
Utica. Cato, considering its inhabitants unreliable, since many expressed
goodwill toward Caesar on account of some sort of law he had passed in
their favor, kicked them out of their own town; indeed, other Pompeians
attacked and murdered many of them as traitors. Cato welcomed the refu-
gees from Scipio’s army, hoping they would hold the important city against
Caesar, but all they wanted was to escape. Cato lost all hope and stabbed
himself to death. The remaining Pompeians surrendered to Caesar’s ad-
vanced force.
On his arrival at Utica, Caesar seems to have forgiven the native inhabit-
ants on account of their favorable disposition toward him, but he castigated
and punished with a very large fine the Roman merchants and other citi-
zens of Rome living there, all of whom seemed to have supported Pompey’s
side with manpower and especially money. A more long-term punishment
was Caesar’s re-founding of the city of Carthage (which Roman armies
had razed to the ground a century earlier) as a commercial competitor for
863
Utica
Utica. Caesar’s generally fair treatment of the town, however, was glossed
over by classical authors and later artists who immortalized Cato’s suicide
there, making him Cato Uticensis, Cato of Utica.
See also: Cato (95–46 BCE); Colonies; Curio (d. 49 BCE); Juba (d. 46 BCE);
Libya/Numidia; Optimates; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–
48 BCE); Suicide; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE)
Further Reading
sical Teachers.
Raven, S. 1993. Rome in Africa. London and New York: Routledge.
864
V
Vatinius
Vatinius
Roman politicians and generals could not have achieved their ambitions
without the support and assistance of others who did much of the dirty
work. Younger senators, for instance, attached themselves to the entourage
of the more senior and prominent senators, as Vatinius did with Julius Cae-
sar, to engage together in endeavors of mutual benefit.
P. Vatinius first appears in the history of the Late Republic as one of the
plebeian tribunes in 59 BCE, already at work in the interests of Caesar and
his associates, Pompey and Crassus. In his official capacity, Vatinius under-
mined the authority of Caesar’s consular colleague, M. Calpurnius Bibulus,
who resisted Caesar’s legislative agenda. When Bibulus, perfectly within his
rights as consul, officially declared as ill-omened the days on which Caesar’s
measures were taken up by the voters (in other words, he interpreted signs
in the heavens as signifying the disapproval of the gods, something which
most Romans took very seriously), Vatinius responded by ordering the ar-
rest of Bibulus for obstruction of the People’s will. He would have carried
out the arrest, too, if it had not been for the other nine plebeian tribunes
(his equals in authority and empowered to veto his actions) who had op-
posed this to a man. A number of them even boycotted public business in
imitation of Bibulus, who holed up in his own home to avoid political vio-
lence.
Bibulus might have escaped arrest, but his protest against Caesar’s ma-
neuvers was largely ignored by Vatinius. The latter proposed a law to the
Popular Assembly to grant Caesar an extraordinary command on the com-
pletion of his consulship; instead of the cattle paths and forests of Italy, with
which his enemies in the Senate hoped to saddle him, Caesar received the
provinces of Cisalpine Gaul (modern Provence) and Illyricum (roughly the
Adriatic coast from Slovenia to Albania) with authority over three Roman
legions for a period of five years. In this way, Vatinius actually secured the
means by which Caesar became such a famous general. He also carried a law
to ratify the political, military, and economic arrangements made by Pom-
pey during his command in the East, and, for the sake of Crassus’s busi-
ness associates, a law to reduce by one-third the revenues required from the
Roman tax collectors in the province of Asia (west-central Turkey today).
All of these measures passed the Assembly, and obtained the acquiescence
of opponents in the Senate, thanks to the application of bribe money and
threats, methods that not only thwarted the obstructionism of political en-
emies but also overrode the checks in the Roman system, trampling under-
foot the authority of the Senate.
Three years later, in February 56 BCE, Vatinius served as a witness for
the prosecution against P. Sestius, a young senator who had fought for the
recall of Cicero from the exile into which he had been maneuvered by the
867
Vatinius
Triumvirs and their henchman, Clodius. The charge was the understand-
able one of public violence (vis), in which Sestius had, in fact, engaged,
since he had established his own street gangs in opposition to those em-
ployed by Clodius. Despite Vatinius’s participation in the prosecution, no
doubt with the sanction of his patron Caesar, one of the latter’s own part-
ners, Crassus, spoke in defense of Sestius, as did Hortensius, the most
famous advocate of the day, and, not surprisingly, Cicero. During cross-
examination, the latter candidly and enthusiastically attacked Vatinius’s ac-
tions as tribune three years earlier, especially the violations of religious
taboos and the use of violence to get Caesar’s legislation passed. Vatinius
and Cicero then got into a bit of a verbal altercation over Caesar; Vatin-
ius accused Cicero of making friends with Caesar only to latch on to the
latter’s success, while Cicero accused Caesar, in a roundabout way, as re-
sponsible for his own exile. He also defended Caesar’s consular colleague,
Bibulus, who had been immobilized and insulted by Caesar’s high-handed
behavior in office. After all this, Sestius’s acquittal must have looked bad
for Vatinius.
Yet, later that same year, the Triumvirs employed heavy-duty bribery to
secure the urban praetorship for Vatinius and to prevent Cato from being
elected to that office. Cicero had spoken vehemently against Vatinius to
promote the campaign of Cato. In the aftermath of the latter’s defeat and
the former’s victory, Pompey approached his old friend Cicero and urged
him (read: pushed him) to reconcile with Vatinius; Pompey needed the two
of them to get along if he and his associates hoped to continue their influ-
ence within the state.
Cicero demonstrated his commitment to this new “relationship” by de-
fending Vatinius against charges of electoral bribery (obviously true, but
that did not seem to matter in the courts of those days) launched by his po-
litical enemies (and those of Caesar—the latter pushed Cicero to take the
case) after his term of office expired in 54 BCE. Cicero secured Vatinius’s
acquittal and, despite his distaste for the power play behind the whole trial,
the two did in fact develop quite a cordial relationship, evidenced in letters
from a decade later.
Regardless of the trial’s outcome, Vatinius had become a lightning rod
for the enemies of Caesar in Rome; he was better off elsewhere, so Caesar
added him to the corps of loyal officers with him in Gaul. He served as leg-
ate or lieutenant there, along with the likes of Marc Antony and Trebonius,
in the final mopping-up operations of 51 BCE.
Vatinius continued to serve in Caesar’s army during the Civil War with
Pompey’s faction; he held the rank of senior legate. In western Greece, for
example, when both armies had been maneuvering around one another in
the early months of 48 BCE until establishing camps on either side of the
River Apsus (modern Semeni), Caesar, still interested in a negotiated peace,
868
Vatinius
dispatched Vatinius to represent his intentions to the opposing forces. The

soldiers from both banks of the river had developed a habit of shouting
across to each other in conversation; Vatinius now employed that method,
too (he hoped to his commander’s advantage), calling out to Pompey’s
soldiers and asking them to discuss their grievances with Caesar and terms
for peace. He urged the sending of envoys back and forth between the two
armies; if foreigners had the right to do this with Romans, then surely Ro-
mans should have even more right to treat with one another on matters of
such grave importance. The soldiers on both banks of the river went silent as
Vatinius pleaded his case, speaking for a long time. Finally, Pompey’s army
agreed that they would call upon A. Terentius Varro to represent them in a
conference with Vatinius on the following day; this would be a preliminary
step to establish the parameters for the meeting of fully empowered del-
egates to discuss peace. The next day, Vatinius held center stage, watched
by both armies as he approached the place of conference at the time set.
Instead of Varro, his old comrade-in-arms, T. Labienus, emerged from the
crowd of Pompey’s soldiers; they were eager for peace, but Labienus was
not so sure (not surprisingly, since he really had no idea how Caesar would
treat him, having defected to Pompey’s side after so many years in Cae-
sar’s Gallic army). He came to the shore of the river and began to argue
with Vatinius; they did not speak very loudly, so it was difficult for most of
the others to hear what they were saying. Unexpected as this conversation
was, the next turn of events was even more so; all of a sudden, projectiles
started flying at the two men from both sides of the river. Labienus angrily
responded by shouting out that no peace talks would bring about the de-
sired outcome, only Caesar’s death. He had taken cover behind the shields
of some of his comrades, while, on the other side, several of Caesar’s offi-
cers were wounded.
Vatinius’s efforts at securing a peaceful resolution to the conflict had
been scuttled, but who bore the responsibility for doing so remains a mys-
tery. Caesar sent Vatinius back to Italy not long after to assume command
of the strategic port of Brundisium (modern Brindisi). A few months later
in northeastern Greece, in the summer of that same year, in his address
to his troops just before the decisive Battle of Pharsalus, Caesar reminded
them of how hard Vatinius had tried and blamed the other side for prevent-
ing peace and insulting his representative. This memory helped spur them
to victory over their stubborn foes.
Meanwhile, Vatinius himself faced the arrival in Brundisium (or really
on the island offshore) of a portion of Pompey’s fleet commanded by Dec.
Laelius. He did not waste time, but immediately set out to capture some
of Laelius’s ships and deny him entrance into the harbor. Vatinius’s cavalry
contingents patrolled the shores of the mainland around, preventing Lae-
lius’s men from gathering supplies of fresh water. The latter had good access
869
Vatinius
to the open sea, however, and he received water from across the waves in
western Greece. Laelius determined to stay put on the island, and nothing
Vatinius did could entice him to depart. Then, news arrived of the victory
of Caesar at Pharsalus. Laelius realized that his position off Brundisium had
become exponentially more dangerous and decided to withdraw his ships.
Vatinius could breathe a sigh of relief and rest assured in the knowledge
that he held the important port for his commander in chief.
In the aftermath of Pharsalus, Vatinius’s position became even more crit-
ical to long-term victory for his side. Refugees from Pompey’s army and
fleet had made their way into the Adriatic Sea and into Illyricum, which
Caesar’s lieutenants had done a good job of holding onto. One of those
lieutenants, Gabinius, however, angered the local populations by his mili-
tary activities, giving an opening to the Pompeians, under M. Octavius, to
grab hold of the province.
Vatinius, from his base at Brundisium, learned what was happening
across the sea from Q. Cornificius, Caesar’s governor in Illyricum; the lat-
ter sent many letters to Vatinius asking for military assistance. He also re-
ceived intelligence reports on the activities of Octavius in winning over
local support and putting pressure on Caesar’s garrisons in the province.
The conditions were terrible for springing into action: winter had come and
Vatinius was seriously ill. Besides, he had only a handful of real warships and
it would have taken too long to recall some of those stationed in Greece
under Q. Fufius Calenus. So, the inventive Vatinius ordered the refitting of
the smaller vessels in port with battering rams (the primary weapon of an-
cient warships) as a supplement to his standard fighting vessels. On board
all these, he brought the veteran troops left behind by Caesar at Brundi-
sium; many of those had been ill at that time, but by now had fully recov-
ered and were itching for action.
Vatinius’s fleet proceeded to bring some of the Illyrian defectors back
over to Caesar’s side, but he had no intention of engaging in long, drawn-
out operations against those who still resisted; his objective was to quickly
bring Octavius’s fleet to battle. He found the enemy assaulting the Cae-
sarian garrison at Epidaurus. A chase began, despite the bad weather and
rough seas that forced the ships of both fleets to keep their distance from
one another, lest they crash. Octavius, just as eager as Vatinius for an en-
gagement and contemptuous of the ships his opponent had to rely on,
ordered his warships to attack. Vatinius’s fleet was outnumbered and tech-
nically outclassed, but their commander trusted his good fortune, his cour-
age, and his boldness. He led out his own flagship against that of Octavius,
who did not dismiss the challenge. The rowers of both vessels produced
terrific speed, such that the resulting collision tore the ram off the prow of
Octavius’s ship and forced the prow of Vatinius’s deep into the timbers of
the enemy. While the rest of their fleets also engaged, the marines on board
870
Vatinius
the two flagships fought hand-to-hand, ship-to-ship. Octavius lost many of

his men to the sword or the waves; as his damaged vessel sank beneath the
sea, he escaped, first in a lifeboat, then in a fast ship. Only a remnant of his
fleet escaped the battle and most of the surviving vessels and crews were
captured by Vatinius.
Vatinius had delivered a great blow to the Pompeian cause. Cornificius
could rest secure in Illyricum, while the Adriatic Sea was clear of any of
the enemy’s ships. Caesar later in the same year (47 BCE) rewarded Vatin-
ius with a consulship and afterward with the governorship of Illyricum and
the command of three legions (45–43 BCE). Vatinius countered the arrival
in western Greece of M. Junius Brutus, the famous assassin of Caesar, but
only briefly, for his soldiers soon mutinied to Brutus’s side; it was said they
did so partly because they did not like Vatinius and partly because they con-
sidered him weak as a result of a disease that plagued his body (Cicero evi-
dently referred to this illness as far back as 62 BCE, when he commented on
the swellings of Vatinius’s neck).
Vatinius fades from view after this incident. Yet he leaves behind a career
story of great skill, political and military. This story and these skills proved
crucial to the “great man” to whom he had hitched his own star.
See also: Adriatic Sea; Ambitus/Bribery; Bibulus (d. 48 BCE); Brutus (ca.
85–42 BCE); Cato (95–46 BCE); Cicero, Marcus (106–43 BCE); Clodius (ca.
93–52 BCE); Courts; Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE); Elections; Extraordinary
Commands; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Letters; Magistrates/Cursus Honorum;
Navy/Ships; Omens; Pharsalus, Battle of (48 BCE); Pompey (106–48 BCE);
Popular Assemblies; Provinces; Religion, Roman; Senate; Taxation/Tax
Farming; Triumvirate
Further Reading
Ltd.
Gardner, R. 1958. Cicero: Pro Sestio and In Vatinium. London: Heinemann.
lishing.
lishing.
Publishing.
White, H. 1962. Appian’s Roman History. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press.
871
Venus Genetrix
Venus Genetrix
Of all the women in Julius Caesar’s life, perhaps the most important was
not a mortal but an immortal, the goddess Venus. He claimed her as his
divine ancestress.
People today might immediately define Venus as the goddess of love,
but, in point of fact, she was a much more multifaceted deity from the
Roman perspective. Certainly, she functioned, especially through the
machinations of her son, Cupid, as a force of passion, sexual attraction,
and desire (definitely not Platonic or even any quiet sort of love), but her
primary attributes were charm, persuasiveness, and seductiveness, the emo-
tional energies that produce or lead to passionate love. Romans came to
associate Venus with the Greek goddess Aphrodite, who possessed even
more characteristics and spheres of influence. Probably under Greek influ-
ence, Romans began to connect Venus to political and social prosperity (an
Marble statue of the Venus of

Cnidus or Cnidian Aphrodite.
Many versions of this sculpture
existed in the Roman world, all
inspired by the fourth-century
BCE original from the Greek
artist Praxiteles. He conveyed
the sensuality and seductiveness
associated with the goddess,
which were actually downplayed
by the Romans in their iconog-
raphy for Venus Genetrix.
(Wellcome Library, London)
872
Venus Genetrix
extension of Aphrodite’s role in the fertility of humans and agriculture);

the story of her relationship with the war god Ares (Mars to the Romans),
which became quite popular in Roman wall paintings, conveyed the sense
of the soldier coming home to be cleansed by the power of love; and the
just-as-famous tale of Aphrodite winning the “apple of beauty” from Paris,
prince of Troy (in exchange for which the goddess gave Helen of Sparta
to the young man) drove home the point that she bestowed special favors
upon men who sought them. All these things likely contributed to the favor
of Venus being sought by Roman leaders of the Late Republic.
The connection of Venus to the family of Caesar is best known today
from a story developed by Roman historians, like Livy, and Roman poets,
like Virgil, who probably derived their material from the most popular oral
traditions circulating in Roman society. Venus seduced a Trojan warrior
named Anchises and had by him a son, whom they called Aeneas. Anchises
did not keep the identity of the boy’s mother a secret, so his son grew up
knowing of his semidivine parentage, like many other heroes in Greek and
Roman mythology. Venus watched over her son throughout his life, rescu-
ing him from the fall of Troy and guiding him in his wandering journey
across the Mediterranean world. She arranged (through the efforts of her
son Cupid) for Dido, queen of Carthage, to fall in love with Aeneas, so that
he would have a safe haven for a while from his troubles; she just as equally
urged him, without any qualms, to leave Dido behind when the time came
for him to head for Italy, where Venus prophesied that he would found a
new Troy. Once in Italy, the victory of Aeneas and his men over local resis-
tance was basically assured by Venus’s continued intervention.
According to legend, the line of Aeneas ruled west-central Italy for hun-
dreds of years; according to archaeology, the new city that Aeneas report-
edly created there, Lavinium, is actually the oldest site for the worship of
Venus in all of Italy. When one of his descendants, a young man named
Romulus, founded the city of Rome in the eighth century BCE, Aeneas thus
became the ancestor of the Roman people, which was his reward for the
piety he had shown toward Venus and the other gods, for the duty he had
maintained toward his father and his son, and for persevering in fulfilling
his divinely mandated mission.
In a sense, all the Romans could claim the symbolic lineage of Aeneas, in
the same way that all Americans can claim the symbolic lineage of George
Washington and other Founders. One Roman clan, though, the Julii,
claimed actual descent from Aeneas’s bloodline. Aeneas had a son, as men-
tioned earlier, whose name was sometimes rendered in the stories as Iulus.
According to the Julii, this is where they got their name, and they resided
for generations in the city founded by Iulus, Alba Longa, where they held
a prominent status with a few other families of distinction. The Julii, then,
assumed that they came from a branch of Iulus’s family separate from the
873
Venus Genetrix
one that eventually produced Romulus. According to the oral tradition in

circulation during the Late Republic, they moved first to nearby Bovillae
and then to Rome itself about a century or two after its founding, at the
time when the Roman army destroyed Alba Longa in a brutal war; in other
words, the Julii had been made refugees. However, like other Alban aris-
tocrats, they were welcomed into the city of Romulus and into the Roman
elite. They never forgot, though, their ties to Alba and to Bovillae (com-
memorated particularly through religious rituals conducted in the Alban
hills, in which Caesar himself took part) nor did they forget that Iulus was
their literal forefather, and so, too, was Aeneas, and that the latter’s mother,
Venus, was their genetrix, “originator” or “creator.”
Julius Caesar utilized the passing away of his aunt, Julia, to drive home
these family ties. In 69 BCE, in the course of delivering the eulogy in her
honor, he asserted before the crowds of spectators gathered in the Roman
Forum that Julia was, on her father’s side, descended from the goddess
Venus and, going even further, that she and her family deserved the rever-
ence given to the gods, who rule over everyone, even kings.
Of course, in Roman society, none of this needed any proof, as we would
understand it, since many aristocratic families laid claim to divine ancestry
of one sort or another, partly as a result of Rome’s own religious traditions,
partly enhanced by contact with Greek and other Eastern Mediterranean
notions, all of which served to tie the origin of noble status in human soci-
ety to divine parentage.
Still, the Julii were in competition during Caesar’s lifetime with other
powerful figures in Rome who, though they might not have claimed Venus
as an ancestor, did claim her as a protector. In fact, the last century of the
Republic saw a notable upswing in the popularity of Venus among Rome’s
leading citizens. During Caesar’s youth, the famous general Sulla, chief
rival to Caesar’s own uncle, Marius, and father-in-law, Cinna, asserted that
Venus (or Aphrodite—Sulla seemed to prefer her Greek name) favored him
in his various wars, both foreign and domestic; on coins with which he
paid his troops, he displayed the head of Venus, and in letters and victory
inscriptions, he styled himself Epaphroditus, meaning “sent from Aphro-
dite” (in other words, alluring and fascinating). Almost three decades later,
Caesar’s own rival, Pompey, paid for the construction of a massive theater
complex dominated by a temple to Venus, whom he commemorated as his
benefactor, Victrix or “Bringer of Victory.”
Caesar himself vowed that he would raise a temple in honor of Venus
Genetrix, as the centerpiece of his extension to the Roman Forum, if she
brought him victory in the Battle of Pharsalus during the Civil War be-
tween himself and Pompey. Victory came, and the temple went up at the
north end of the new Forum Iulium. Sitting atop an imposingly high plat-
form, fronted by eight columns, and containing a marble statue of Venus
874
Venus Genetrix
herself, it was a fitting tribute to the goddess who had created his family.
This new temple complex held the new festival he also instituted in her
honor as Genetrix every twenty-sixth of September.
Caesar claimed that the Genetrix had given him youthful energy to last
him for his entire life. He had a signet ring carved with an image of Venus,
dressed in battle armor, and invoked her name (“the Victorious”) fre-
quently in battle and used it as a watchword among his troops (especially in
Greece when fighting against Pompey and in Spain when fighting against
the latter’s eldest son). In the last few months of his life, he also minted
coins to pay his troops with his own image on one side and Venus, holding
the little goddess Victoria as well as a scepter, and sometimes a shield and
the “globe of the world,” on the other side.
His political opponents sometimes took the opportunity to heckle Cae-
sar about this divine ancestry. Venus was, after all, a goddess of sexual pas-
sion, and Caesar had quite a reputation for his many affairs with women
and men; no wonder, some said, that he claimed descent from her. In one
of his letters, the orator Cicero, who was personally friends with Caesar but
often at odds with him politically, described the latter in feminine terms, as
though Caesar were literally playing the part of Venus during one of those
infamous sexual encounters.
During Caesar’s funeral, his body was placed on an ivory couch within
a temporary shrine, glittering with gold, designed to resemble the Temple
of Venus. Even in death, then, the divine connection of the Julii was not
lost. Indeed, his heir, Octavian-Augustus, afterward continued even more
to play up the family’s special ancestry as a means of political propaganda to
help shore up their now Imperial power.
Later, powerful empresses, like Hadrian’s wife Sabina in the second cen-
tury CE and Septimius Severus’s wife Julia Domna in the third century CE,
enhanced that association by displaying themselves with Venus Genetrix on
official coinage. Over that time, her portrayal changed from a more seduc-
tive, intriguing image of a goddess who could bestow favors upon mortals
to that of a respectable Roman matron, “mother of the Roman world.”
See also: Aeneas; Aeneid (Virgil); Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris; Names;
Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE); Pompey (106–48 BCE); Religion,
Roman; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE); Theater of Pompey
Further Reading
Thames and Hudson.
875
Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE)

As the generally unwelcome conqueror of Gaul or Gallia Comata (roughly
modern France, Belgium, western Germany, and southwestern Holland),
Julius Caesar faced many local uprisings against Roman overlordship. None
was more serious, however, than the uprising of Vercingetorix in 52 BCE.
Under his leadership, the peoples of Gaul, especially those of central Gaul,
attempted to free themselves from the yoke of Roman dominance.
At the time the uprising began, Caesar, as usual, was wintering south
of the Alps in Cisalpine Gaul (roughly northern Italy); most of his legions
were scattered in winter quarters across Gallia Comata. News reached the
Gallic populations concerning political troubles in Italy, and many of the
Lithograph of Vercingetorix by
Eugene Delacroix, 1829.
Caesar’s greatest adversary in
the Gallic Wars later became
one of the greatest heroes to the
people of modern France, in
this image portrayed as an
idealized medieval king.
(Eugene Delacroix, Rosenwald
Collection, National Gallery of
Art Images)
876
Stater minted under the authority of Vercingetorix, warlord of the Arverni, ca.
52 BCE. This gold coin reflects the influence of Greek artistic styles on the peoples
of Gaul (ancient France). (Gjon Mili/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images)
tribal councils were led to believe that Caesar would have to remain in the
peninsula to answer for his role in those troubles. There could not have
been a better time to strike back against Roman encroachment, reignite
Gallic courage and warrior spirit, and, if necessary, die in the attempt to
shake off foreign control.
As in days of old, secret meetings of tribal representatives gathered in
the forests of central Gaul, away from the prizing eyes of the Roman gar-
rison troops. Once ready, they attacked first at Cenabum (modern Orléans,
France), a town where many Roman merchants resided; these people were
massacred and their wealth looted. News of this event spread through Gaul
within a single day, inspiring rebelliousness across the region.
Among those thus inspired was a young Arvernian noble, Vercingetorix,
descended of an ambitious father whose ambitions had been squelched by
877
his own tribesmen. His son would not permit the same to happen to himself,
even when his uncle and other council leaders objected to a war against the
Romans. Vercingetorix ignored them and turned directly to the Arvernian
people and warriors for their support. By these means, he actually secured
the kingship over the Arverni, shunting the councilors aside and seizing
power for himself. In no time, his envoys received the allegiance of other
Gallic tribes stretching across central Gaul from north to south and over to
the Atlantic seaboard. Still other tribes came over to the rebel alliance having
been forced to do so by Vercingetorix’s troops. He gave each tribe detailed
instructions for the provision of weapons, fighting men, and other supplies,
as well as the surrender of political hostages as collateral for their loyalty to
the cause and to their supreme commander, Vercingetorix himself.
On receiving word of these developments, Caesar employed his by-now
trademark lightning speed to return to southern France (the Roman prov-
ince of Transalpine Gaul). He did not know for sure which of his Gallic al-
lies he could trust and which he could not, or even the condition of most
of his legions in Gaul.
The enemy soon threw things into focus by coming to him in the person
of Lucterius of the Cadurci; this daring warlord commanded half of Vercin-
getorix’s rebel army and with it intended to invade the Roman province.
Caesar prevented this by beefing up fortifications all along the frontier, but
clearly realized from this close call that he himself must take the offensive.
He ordered the troops with him to cross into Gallia Comata and make their
way to the borders of the Arverni (modern Auvergne), even as they had to
dig through six-foot-deep winter snow.
CAESAR’S MISSING SWORD

One must imagine that, with all their wars across the entire circuit
of the Mediterranean region, Roman soldiers and commanders must
have lost a lot of weapons, even when they survived battles. A famous
story was told about a sword lost by none other than Julius Caesar
himself. In his final confrontation with the Gallic tribes under the
leadership of Vercingetorix, he suffered some setbacks. During one of
these, the tribesmen of Vercingetorix, the Arverni, somehow gathered
up a gladius, a short-sword of Caesar’s. Even in the time of the Im-
perial biographer Plutarch, nearly two centuries after Caesar’s victory
over the Gauls, the descendants of the Arverni continued to display
that sword in one of their temples. Indeed, Caesar saw it there himself
and refused to be persuaded by his friends to remove it from such a
sacred place; he simply smiled, understanding that his sword had been
offered to the Gallic deities as a gift.
878
This rapid advance drew Vercingetorix back to protect his homeland,

but he found there only Caesar’s cavalry harassing the population centers,
since the Roman general himself had raced on again, close to 200 miles due
north, where he united the majority of his legions from their winter quar-
ters. The Gallic commander decided to tempt Caesar into battle by assault-
ing a town in the lands of the Aedui, Rome’s oldest allies in Gallia Comata.
Caesar took the dangerous step (in the harsh wintry conditions) of ad-
vancing against Vercingetorix, seizing strategic towns along the way so as
not to leave any enemy forces in his rear. His opponent abandoned his siege
operations and marched to engage Caesar outside the town of Noviodu-
num (modern Nevers). In their first military encounter, the latter’s cavalry
suffered an initial setback until reinforcement of the Romans by German
troopers turned the tide against Vercingetorix. He decided upon strategic
retreat and re-evaluated his strategy: instead of open battle with the Ro-
mans, his forces must deprive them of supplies and food. This the Gallic
cavalry did with great success.
To the town of Avaricum (near modern Bourges), which Caesar laid
under siege, Vercingetorix came fairly close with his advance units. Again,
he tempted Caesar to battle, this time on terrain unfavorable to the Ro-
mans, but their general wisely refused to be baited. The war council of the
Gauls criticized Vercingetorix for his recklessness, but the latter staged an
elaborate ruse, posing captured Roman slaves as military prisoners of war,
to maintain his position and convince his fellows of the sorry state of Cae-
sar’s army. That same army, however, soon forced its way into Avaricum
and virtually massacred the entire population.
Once again, Vercingetorix had to save face, as news spread of this disas-
ter to his cause. Addressing his men, he insisted that they would unite all
of Gaul against the Romans; no matter how good the latter were at siege
warfare, they could never stand up against the whole of Gaul. He displayed
continuous hope, which the Gallic warriors simply could not resist (to Cae-
sar’s dismay). The fact was that Vercingetorix inspired the Gauls with the
tenacity of those who know that they have only one great chance to accom-
plish their goal.
The rebel army swelled in numbers as Vercingetorix’s agents crisscrossed
the region, delivering bribes and making promises to win over the as-yet-
uncommitted tribes. He especially gathered archers from all points to com-
plement the ranks of horse and foot. By the spring of 52 BCE, the Gallic
leader was once again ready for action.
Caesar, meanwhile, had divided his army into two strike forces, six le-
gions under his own command for the invasion of the Arvernian territory
and four legions under his legate, T. Labienus, to dislodge the north-central
tribes from the rebel alliance. Separated from Caesar’s force only by the Al-
lier River, Vercingetorix marched his army in the same direction, following
a parallel course. In this way, he intended to prevent Caesar from reaching
879
his target, the Arvernian capital of Gergovia (perhaps modern Merdogne),

located on Vercingetorix’s side of the river. Unfortunately for the latter, he
was deceived by Caesar, who managed to get across with two of his legions
and then call the others over as well in safety. Soon, both forces reached
Gergovia.
That fortified hill town (oppidum, to use the Roman word) was heav-
ily guarded by Vercingetorix’s forces, both at ground level and on the hills
around, except for those hills occupied by Caesar’s two camps, from the
smaller of which he hoped to interfere with the enemy’s supply lines. He
found himself temporarily diverted from this project by the need to stop the
approach of an army from the Aedui, an army which had been convinced
to turn against the Romans by an elaborate ruse (this time not the work of
Vercingetorix but of young Aeduan nobles who favored his cause). Having
won them back to his side, Caesar returned to the environs of Gergovia only
to discover that his camps had been under severe enemy assault in his absence.
Meanwhile, Vercingetorix directed the further fortification of Gergovia,
especially in its weakest sector. Caesar maneuvered his troops to make it ap-
pear as if this position was their target for attack, but then carefully moved
enough of them against the breastwork below Gergovia itself so as to cap-
ture it. In this way, the Romans penetrated the town’s first line of defense.
They did so with too much eagerness, however, and soon found themselves
overwhelmed by the returning Gallic warriors and were forced down the
hillside into the plain below.
Vercingetorix refused to allow his men to pursue their enemy any farther
that day, but, on the days that followed, he accepted the opportunities of-
fered by Caesar to engage in cavalry skirmishes in the plain. This fortified
the spirits of both armies. Caesar, however, still chose to break off any fur-
ther engagement. He had received word that his old allies, the Aedui, had
turned to Vercingetorix’s side as a whole. For many reasons, Caesar could
not allow this to stand, among them the fact that he had made the Aeduan
town of Noviodunum his principal storage depot; he could not afford for
it to fall into enemy hands.
Having secured Noviodunum before Caesar could stop them, the Aed-
uan leaders invited Vercingetorix to a war council where they insisted on
the privilege of directing the remainder of the conflict. Vercingetorix re-
fused to take second place to the Aedui, and a general war council, with
representatives from across Gaul, determined that he should retain supreme
command. The Aedui complied, reluctantly, and in their wounded pride
began to regard Vercingetorix, with whom they had actually little real ex-
perience, as an arrogant dictator.
Vercingetorix had lost none of his nerve or energy. He firmly requested
that his allies destroy their own crops and leave nothing for the benefit of
the Romans, continuing to advise that depriving the latter of necessities
880
would bring the most beneficial results to his side. He also devised a plan to
invade Transalpine Gaul, over the bodies of Caesar’s Gallic allies along the
border, if required. Vercingetorix thereby cut off Caesar from communica-
tion with the province and with Italy as well.
As Caesar tried to wend his way southward, Vercingetorix decided to
engage in a pitched battle, relying on his superior Gallic cavalry against
the Romans. What he did not seem to know was that Caesar had acquired
a considerable contingent of Germanic horsemen, who fought every bit
as well and very much the same as their Gallic opponents. The Germans
turned the tide of the battle against Vercingetorix’s force, slaughtering and
scattering his cavalry. The survivors joined his foot soldiers, who withdrew
to the strategic fortress town of Alesia.
Caesar’s siege operations penned up Vercingetorix and his army in Alesia.
The impetuous Germans did Caesar good service at Alesia, sending Vercingeto-
rix’s troops into a panic over and over again. The Gallic commander stealthily
sent his remaining cavalry across Gaul to his various allies, calling upon them
to send reinforcements in this dire hour. In his message to his own Arverni and
the rest of the tribes, he described himself as the liberator of Gaul beset by a
merciless opponent, who should not be allowed to gain the upper hand in their
last chance of freedom (or, at least, this is how Caesar told the tale).
Having taken every step and every precaution to guard against capture
and ration out the meager supplies at hand, Vercingetorix awaited the ex-
pected assistance. When it finally arrived, his allies swarmed to the place and
put Caesar’s army under siege as well. The Siege of Alesia thus became, in
fact, a complex, simultaneous siege and counter siege, with Gallic rebels
surrounded by Roman forces and surrounding Roman forces.
In the end, the Romans prevailed. Vercingetorix offered himself up to
his war council for either execution by them or surrender alive to Caesar.
They decided on the latter, since Caesar insisted all the surviving war chiefs
be delivered over to him. In the most colorful version of the story, found
in the biography of Caesar by the Greek philosopher Plutarch, Vercingeto-
rix rode out to Caesar’s camp, circled the Roman general, jumped off his
horse, stripped off his armor (his finest, by the way), and submitted him-
self in silence at Caesar’s feet. In a slightly less dramatic rendition a century
later, another Greek author, Cassius Dio, wrote that Vercingetorix appeared
suddenly and unexpectedly at the foot of the general’s platform within the
Roman camp; silently falling to his knees, his clasped hands outstretched to
Caesar in an effort to gain the latter’s forgiveness, the Gallic hero failed, re-
ceiving only criticism for his disloyalty to Rome and to Caesar. In his own
account of what took place, Caesar recorded simply that Vercingetorix was
surrendered along with his comrades as a prisoner under Roman guard.
Six years later, the “Liberator of Gaul” graced Caesar’s triumphal cel-
ebrations in Rome and suffered execution there, probably by strangulation.
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Vestal Virgins
It took a year to pacify Gaul after the rebellion, with Caesar employing as
much moderation and clemency as force to win over the feisty Gallic tribes-
men as his friends and clients.
In more modern times, the people of France came to revere Vercingeto-
rix as a patriotic hero and symbol of their country and its dedication to
liberty. In the ancient context, Caesar’s success against him should not be
underestimated. The revolt of Vercingetorix had encompassed almost the
whole of Gallia Comata. Its suppression guaranteed Caesar the enormous
resources of that entire region in terms of manpower, money, and supplies,
all at his disposal in the subsequent Civil War with his enemies in Rome.
Matching wits with Vercingetorix, who in many ways resembled Caesar in
his quickness, cunning, and strategic acumen, and defeating him and his
vast army remarkably enhanced Caesar’s reputation as a conqueror. Thanks
to the challenge of Vercingetorix, Caesar, in a military sense, came to equal
his chief rival at home, Pompey, and surpassed all other Romans then living.
See also: Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE); Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Transalpine/
Gallia Transalpina; Labienus (d. 45 BCE); Legions; Siegecraft; Trebonius (d.
43 BCE)
Further Reading
Ltd.
ledge.
University Press.
Vestal Virgins
As the chief priestesses of Rome, the Vestal Virgins were some of the most
respected women in society. They served the goddess Vesta, the primeval
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Vestal Virgins
School of the Vestal Virgins. Steel engraving by the Illman brothers from the book,
Museum of Antiquities, by L. W Yaggy and T. L. Haines, 1886. This image shows the
Chief Vestal making a sacrifice on the sacred fire of the goddess Vesta, while other
priestesses watch. (Tarker/Corbis)
energy of fire, regarded as the protector of Roman families and the Roman
community as a whole.
Every Roman family had some sort of vesta, a hearth fire, either in the
form of a fire pit or a brazier (something resembling a barbecue grill), de-
pending on whether the family lived in a small apartment or a spacious
house. In the time of their recorded history, Romans no longer used that
particular fire for cooking but rather kept it always burning and worshipped
it as a feminine force protective of the family.
The Roman community as a whole also worshipped the fire of Vesta.
Unlike many other of their deities, Vesta was honored with only one tem-
ple. According to tradition, the Roman king Numa Pompilius raised that
temple in the Roman Forum, in the very heart of the city itself; modeled
on the ancient huts in which the first Romans lived, the circular structure,
dating back at least to the seventh century BCE, came to house a number
of sacred objects, but especially surrounded the eternal flame, the image of
Vesta herself.
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Vestal Virgins
Romans came to believe that as long as that flame burned, Rome itself
would survive. Therefore, the priestesses who tended Vesta’s image carried
a grave responsibility. Furthermore, the Roman people had the responsi-
bility as a community to maintain the Temple of Vesta in good repair; we
know that it had to be completely rebuilt at least six times in its long his-
tory, including after a fire that destroyed it in 83 BCE. In other words, Julius
Caesar would have seen two versions of the temple in his lifetime, the one
before the fire and the one after.
Nearby, the Romans constructed a massive building, several stories
tall, consisting of at least fifty separate rooms designed around a central
courtyard, the latter eventually adorned with pools and statues of famous
priestesses. This Atrium Vestae was a virtually self-contained convent, with
bedrooms, baths, kitchen and dining facilities, mills for grinding grain, out-
door ovens for baking, and so on.
Among all of Rome’s priestly colleges, only the priestesses of Vesta
lived together in such a convent as a community. They entered the con-
vent as children between the ages of six and ten, donated by parents (both
mother and father had to be living at the time of the donation) from
Rome’s most prominent families. The girls could not be physically or
mentally disabled in any way, and, in fact, could not even have birthmarks
or anything else that the examining priests (the pontifices, especially the
Pontifex Maximus) would have considered “blemishes.” In other words,
the girls had to be as perfect as the animals which Romans sacrificed to
their gods.
In a sense, the parents donating their daughter were sacrificing her life to
Vesta; from the time of her acceptance into the convent, she was expected
to dedicate her life to keeping the hearth fire of the goddess burning every
day of the year, all year long, for her term of service, that is, thirty years. If
she allowed the sacred flame to go out, she would be beaten with wooden
rods by the Pontifex Maximus, the ultimate supervisor of the priestesses;
he lived in a building, the Domus Publica, either near or attached to their
convent. He had the task of reigniting the fire of Vesta (by rubbing pieces
of sacred wood together). A Vestal, thus, legally departed her family for the
duration of her time in service, no longer under the control of her father or
any other man, except the Pontifex Maximus.
The number of priestesses in the convent at any one time is a matter of
some doubt. In Caesar’s day, Romans expected six Vestals to be on duty,
but there were likely more, across the range of ages. For their first ten years,
they learned their responsibilities. Besides their most critical role of tending
Vesta herself and making daily sacrifices of salt and flour to the hearth fire,
just like the women of a family were expected to do in their own homes,
their duties also included grinding grain and baking breads or cakes for
other priestly colleges to use in their rituals. After fulfilling these functions
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Vestal Virgins
during their second ten years in service, they spent their last decade in the
convent teaching the new girls.
All priestesses of Vesta wore their hair like a bride, a symbol of sexual vir-
ginity, and dressed in the clothing of a Roman mother, symbolic of virtuous
living. They also maintained strict ritual purity, especially abstinence from
sexual activity. Aside from the Pontifex Maximus, the only man allowed to
enter the Atrium Vestae at night, other men could visit some parts of the
sanctuary during the day, which would have presented some temptation to
the priestesses. If they faltered in their sexual conduct, Vestals were pun-
ished with death by being buried alive in the Campus Sceleratus (“Field of
Desecration”) near the Colline gate on the eastern side of Rome; their lov-
ers, if caught, were whipped to death in public. Only ten recorded cases,
however, attest to the meting out of this penalty in the entire history of
Roman society.
Yet the Vestals did not live in total seclusion, as nuns of later times have
sometimes done. Instead, they wandered freely about town and were ex-
pected to participate in certain public rituals, such as the Parilia festival
every April in honor of Rome’s founding, and major events, religious and
political, such as consecrations and inaugurations, and to attend public ex-
hibitions, such as chariot races in the Circus Maximus or gladiatorial shows
in makeshift arenas, where they received honor with prime seating close to
the action.
Not surprisingly, as the only priestesses of Rome, the Vestals had a spe-
cial role in those rituals that men were not allowed to conduct, such as the
celebrations for Bona Dea, the “Good Goddess.” Indeed, when those par-
ticular rites were disrupted and canceled in 62 BCE because of the presence
of a man, Clodius, who snuck into the home where the rituals were taking
place (the home of Pompeia and her husband, Julius Caesar), the Vestal
Virgins saw to the rescheduled ceremony. Afterward, the Senate officially
referred the scandal to the Vestals and the College of Pontiffs for their con-
sideration, and together the priestesses and priests declared their opinion
that a sacrilege had been committed by Clodius, who then had to stand trial
before the Senate. His eventual acquittal, the result of various political fac-
tors, must have disturbed the Vestals greatly.
Since Vestal Virgins came from the aristocratic families of Rome, they
often inherited considerable property. In the case of other heiresses from
such families, aristocratic men, or their families, might propose marriage
to get their hands on that property; obviously, in the case of a priestess of
Vesta, this was not permissible. That did not prevent some Roman men
from pursuing Vestals for such gain. An example is M. Licinius Crassus,
associate and friend of Julius Caesar, and the richest man in Rome in their
time. He was so interested in acquiring a suburban villa from a Vestal Vir-
gin named, coincidentally, Licinia, that he hung around her as often as he
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Vestal Virgins
could and lavished her with attention and probably also gifts; he thereby
hoped to persuade her to sell her estate to him at a discounted price.
Crassus’s behavior provoked rumors of an affair between himself and Li-
cinia, and those rumors became so serious that she was, in fact, formally
accused of having broken her sacred vows and he was similarly accused
formally of corrupting a priestess of Vesta. As noted earlier, this scandal
could have ended in both of their deaths. Fortunately, the pontifical court
acquitted each of them, and the wisdom of its decision was soon revealed
when Licinia sold the property to Crassus and the two of them parted
ways.
Vestal Virgins, like other religious personnel in Rome, involved them-
selves in political issues. For example, when Julius Caesar was on the run
from the agents of the dictator Sulla, who had destroyed the faction of
Caesar’s father-in-law, Cornelius Cinna, the Vestals interceded on behalf of
the young man, begging Sulla to pardon him. They had the right to do so
under Roman custom.
The Vestals also came to be so trusted that they held the wills of Roman
citizens in their safekeeping. Caesar, for instance, entrusted the Chief Vestal
(Vestalis Maxima) with his will, which was handed over to his father-in-law,
Calpurnius Piso, still perfectly sealed, at the latter’s formal request and then
given to Marc Antony.
Vestal Virgins, then, played a significant role in many aspects of Roman
society and culture. When they completed their thirty years of service (i.e.,
if without incident), they had two choices: they could remain in the con-
vent until death, which apparently most did, or they could go out into the
world and do pretty much whatever they wished. A Vestal’s family inheri-
tance came to her at that point, and she remained free from any supervision
by male relatives or guardians for the remainder of her days.
See also: Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE); Bona Dea; Cinna
the Elder (d. 84 BCE); Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE); Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE);
Forum Romanum; Pompeia/“Caesar’s wife”; Pontifex Maximus; Religion,
Roman; Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE)
Further Reading
Routledge.
Thames and Hudson.
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lishing.
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Primary Documents
SUETONIUS ON CAESAR’S
ANCESTRY AND ASPIRATIONS
C. Suetonius Tranquillus (ca. 70–ca. 130 CE), a very important and influ-
ential biographer in the Latin language, composed one of our main sources
for the life of Julius Caesar. In the following excerpts, Suetonius recounts two
famous incidents that illustrate Caesar’s view of his divine ancestry and his
grand aspirations.
6.1 When quaestor, he [Caesar] pronounced the customary orations

from the rostra in praise of his aunt Julia and his wife Cornelia, who had
both died. And in the eulogy of his aunt he spoke in the following terms of
her paternal and maternal ancestry and that of his own father: “The family
of my aunt Julia [his father’s sister] is descended by her mother from the
kings, and on her father’s side is akin to the immortal Gods; for the Marcii
Reges (her mother’s family name) go back to Ancus Marcius, and the Julii,
the family of which ours is a branch, to Venus. Our stock therefore has at
once the sanctity of kings, whose power is supreme among mortal men,
and the claim to reverence which attaches to the Gods, who hold sway over
kings themselves.”
7.1 As quaestor . . . in Further Spain . . ., he came to Gades, and notic-
ing a statue of Alexander the Great in the temple of Hercules, he heaved a
sigh, and as if out of patience with his own incapacity in having as yet done
nothing noteworthy at a time of life when Alexander had already brought
Primary Documents
the world to his feet, he straightway asked for his discharge, to grasp the
first opportunity for greater enterprises at Rome.
Source: C. Suetonius Tranquillus. The Lives of the Twelve Caesars: The Life of the
Divine Julius. Chapters 6 and 7. Translated by J. C. Rolfe. Loeb Classical Library.
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1914.
CAESAR’S RESPONSE TO THE

CONSPIRACY OF CATILINE (63 BCE)
C. Sallustius Crispus or Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE) was a close associate of Julius
Caesar and one of the most important Roman historians. About two decades
after the event, he recounted Caesar’s merciful stance and rhetorical ability in
the senatorial debate on the fate of the arrested accomplices of Catiline, who
was working to overthrow the Republic.
50 . . . Decimus Junius Silanus, who, as consul elect, was first asked his
opinion [on the subject of the arrested conspirators], moved that capital
punishment should be inflicted . . . but afterwards, being influenced by
the speech of Caius Caesar, he said that he would go over to the opinion
of Tiberius Nero, who had proposed that the guards should be increased,
and that the senate should deliberate further on the matter. Caesar, when
it came to his turn, being asked his opinion by the consul, spoke to the fol-
lowing effect:
51 “It becomes all men, Conscript Fathers, who deliberate on dubious
matters, to be influenced neither by hatred, affection, anger, nor pity. The
mind, when such feelings obstruct its view, cannot easily see what is right;
nor has any human being consulted, at the same moment, his passions and
his interest. When the mind is freely exerted, its reasoning is sound; but pas-
sion, if it gain possession of it, becomes its tyrant, and reason is powerless. . . .
“Similar caution, Conscript Fathers, is to be observed by yourselves, that
the guilt of Lentulus, and the other conspirators, may not have greater
weight with you than your own dignity, and that you may not regard your
indignation more than your character. If, indeed, a punishment adequate to
their crimes be discovered, I consent to extraordinary measures; but if the
enormity of their crime exceeds whatever can be devised, I think that we
should inflict only such penalties as the laws have provided. . . .
“But to different persons, Conscript Fathers, different degrees of license
are allowed. . . . Thus in the highest position there is the least liberty of ac-
tion; and it becomes us to indulge neither partiality nor aversion, but least
of all animosity; for what in others is called resentment, is in the powerful
termed violence and cruelty. . . .
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“When the republic, however, became powerful, and faction grew strong
from the vast number of citizens, men began to involve the innocent in
condemnation, and other like abuses were practiced; and it was then that
the Porcian and other laws were provided, by which condemned citizens
were allowed to go into exile. This lenity of our ancestors, Conscript Fa-
thers, I regard as a very strong reason why we should not adopt any new
measures of severity. . . . my recommendation is, that their property be con-
fiscated, and that they themselves be kept in custody in such of the munici-
pal towns as are best able to bear the expense; that no one hereafter bring
their case before the senate, or speak on it to the people; and that the sen-
ate now give their opinion, that he who shall act contrary to this, will act
against the republic and the general safety.”
Source: Gaius Sallustius Crispus. Conspiracy of Catiline. Chapters 50 and 51. Trans-
lated by the Rev. John Selby Watson. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1867.
CASSIUS DIO DESCRIBES JULIUS CAESAR’S

FIRST INVASION OF BRITAIN (55 BCE )
The Greek historian and senator Cassius Dio (ca. 155–235 CE) wrote a mas-
sive history of Rome, only segments of which survive. The following excerpt
demonstrates his reliance on Julius Caesar’s own Bellum Gallicum, which he
follows very closely here.
51.1 To this land [Britain], then, Caesar desired to cross, now that he
had won over the Morini and the rest of Gaul was quiet. He made the
passage with the infantry by the most desirable course, but did not select
the best landing-place; for the Britons, apprised beforehand of his voy-
age, had secured all the landings on the coast facing the mainland. 2 Ac-
cordingly, he sailed around a certain projecting headland, coasted along
on the other side of it, and disembarking there in the shoals, conquered
those who joined battle with him and gained a footing on dry land be-
fore more numerous assistance could come, afterwards he repulsed this
attack also. 3 Not many of the barbarians fell, for their forces consisted
of chariot-drivers and cavalry and so easily escaped the Romans whose
cavalry had not yet arrived; but alarmed at the reports about them from
the mainland and because they had dared to cross at all and had managed
to set foot upon the land, they sent to Caesar some of the Morini, who
were friends of theirs, to see about terms of peace. Upon his demanding
hostages, they were willing at the time to give them; 52.1 but when the
Romans in the meantime began to encounter difficulties by reason of a
storm which damaged both the fleet that was present and also the one on
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the way, they changed their minds, and though not attacking the invad-
ers openly, since their camp was strongly guarded, 2 they took some men
who had been sent out to forage for provisions on the assumption that the
country was friendly, and destroyed them all, save a few, to whose rescue
Caesar came in haste. After that they assaulted the camp itself of the Ro-
mans. Here they accomplished nothing, but fared badly; they would not
make terms, however, until they had been defeated many times. 3 Indeed,
Caesar would have had no thought of making peace with them at all, ex-
cept that the winter was approaching and that he was not equipped with
a sufficient force to continue fighting at that season, since the additional
force coming to his aid had met with mishap, and also that the Gauls in
view of his absence had begun an uprising; so he reluctantly concluded a
truce with them, demanding many hostages this time also, but obtaining
only a few.
Source: Cassius Dio. Roman History. Vol. III. Book 39.51–52. Translated by Ear-
nest Cary. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1914.
CICERO’S AFFECTION FOR CAESAR

(SEPTEMBER 28, 54 BCE )
Caesar’s contemporary M. Tullius Cicero (106–43 BCE) has left behind close
to 900 letters to and from friends, family, associates, and officials of Rome. In
this excerpt, to his brother Quintus, who served under Caesar in Gaul, Cicero
reveals his friendship with Caesar.
Just as I was folding up this epistle letter-carriers arrived from you and
Caesar (20th September) after a journey of twenty days. How anxious
I was! How painfully I was affected by Caesar’s most kind letter! But the
kinder it was, the more sorrow did his loss [of his daughter Julia] occasion
me. But to turn to your letter: To begin with, I reiterate my approval of
your staying on, especially as, according to your account, you have con-
sulted Caesar on the subject. . . . I indeed can have no “second thoughts”
in matters connected with Caesar. He comes next after you and our chil-
dren in my regard, and not much after. I think I act in this with deliberate
judgment, for I have by this time good cause for it, yet warm personal feel-
ing no doubt does influence me also.
Source: Marcus Tullius Cicero. The Letters of Cicero. Letter XIV (Letters to His
Brother Quintus 3.1.5). Translated by Evelyn S. Shuckburgh. London: G. Bell and
Sons, 1899–1900.
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JULIUS CAESAR ON THE TRUE CAUSES

OF THE CIVIL WAR (49 BCE )
In the Bellum Civile, his own memoir on the Civil War between himself and
Pompey’s faction, Caesar is at great pains to prove that his adversaries were in
the wrong, pushing him into a corner from which he could only escape by de-
fending himself militarily, and, in fact, that they, not he, were trampling on
the customs of the Republic.
1.2. . . . Thus most of the senators, compelled by the language of the

consul, intimidated by the presence of the army and by the threats of
the friends of Pompeius, against their will and yielding to pressure, adopt
the proposal of Scipio that Caesar should disband his army before a fixed
date, and that, if he failed to do so, he should be considered to be meditat-
ing treason against the republic. The tribunes M. Antonius and Q. Cassius
intervene. The question of their intervention is immediately brought be-
fore the senate. Opinions of weighty import are expressed, and the more
harsh and cruel the speech the more it is applauded by the personal enemies
of Caesar.
1.5 For these reasons everything is done in hurry and confusion. Cae-
sar’s friends are allowed no time to inform him, nor are the tribunes given
any opportunity of protesting against the peril that threatened them, nor
even of retaining, by the exercise of their veto, the most fundamental of
their rights, which L. Sulla had left them, but within the limit of seven days
they are compelled to take measures for their own safety, whereas the most
turbulent of the tribunes in earlier times had been wont to regard with ap-
prehension the conclusion of at least eight months of administration. Re-
course is had to that extreme and ultimate decree of the senate which had
never previously been resorted to except when the city was at the point of
destruction and all despaired of safety through the audacity of malefactors:
“The consuls, the praetors, the tribunes, and all the proconsulars who are
near the city shall take measures that the state incur no harm.” These reso-
lutions are recorded by decree of the senate on January 7. . . . The tribunes
at once flee from the city and betake themselves to Caesar. He was at that
time at Ravenna and was awaiting a reply to his very lenient demands, in
the hope that by some sense of equity a peaceable conclusion might be
reached.
1.9. . . . “As for myself,” he [Caesar] said, “I have always reckoned the
dignity of the republic of first importance and preferable to life. I was in-
dignant that a benefit conferred on me by the Roman people was being
insolently wrested from me by my enemies, and that, robbed of my six
months’ command, I was being dragged back to the city, when the peo-
ple had directed that I should be allowed to be a candidate in absence at
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the next election. Nevertheless, for the sake of the state I have borne with
equanimity this infringement of my prerogative; when I sent a dispatch to
the senate proposing that all should give up arms I failed to obtain even
this request. . . . To what does all this tend but to my own ruin? Still I am
prepared to resort to anything, to submit to anything, for the sake of the
commonwealth. Let Pompeius go to his own provinces, let us disband our
armies, let everyone in Italy lay down his arms, let fear be banished from
the state, let free elections and the whole control of the republic be handed
over to the senate and the Roman people.”
Source: Julius Caesar. Civil Wars. Book 1, Chapters 2, 5, and 9. Translated by

A. G. Peskett. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1914.
CASSIUS DIO DESCRIBES POMPEY’S BEHAVIOR AT THE

START OF THE CIVIL WAR (49 BCE)
For his massive history of Rome, the Greek historian and senator Cassius Dio
(ca. 155–235 CE) made use of Julius Caesar’s Bellum Civile to understand
Pompey’s reaction to Caesar’s military and political stance.
41.5.1. . . . [F]or he [Pompey] saw that the people in the city, in fact the
very members of his party, even more than the rest, shrank from the war
through remembrance of the deeds of Marius and Sulla and wished to be
delivered from it. 5.4 When, however, the [Pompey’s] envoys said many
things in praise of Caesar, and ended up by promising that no one should
suffer any harm at his hands and that the legions should immediately be dis-
banded, they were pleased and sent the same envoys to him again, and they
kept shouting out everywhere and always their demand that both leaders
should lay down their arms at the same time.
41.6.1 Pompey was frightened at this, knowing well that he would be
far inferior to Caesar if they should both put themselves in the power of the
people, and accordingly set out for Campania before the envoys returned,
6.2 with the idea that he could more easily carry on war there. He also
commanded the whole senate together with the magistrates to accompany
him, granting them permission for their absence by a decree, and announc-
ing to them that he would regard anyone who remained behind in exactly
the same light as those who were working against him.
Source: Cassius Dio. Roman History. Vol. IV. Book 41, Chapters 5 and 6. Trans-
lated by Earnest Cary. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1916.
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A LETTER FROM CAESAR REGARDING HIS

CAMPAIGN OF “KINDNESS AND GENEROSITY”
(ca. MARCH 10, 49 BCE )
Caesar exchanged numerous letters with C. Oppius and L. Cornelius Balbus,
who acted as his personal agents in many sensitive matters. They received one
particular letter from him around March 10, 49 BCE, forwarding the follow-
ing copy to their mutual friend, Cicero, on either March 11 or 12. At the time,
the Civil War with Pompey’s faction had barely begun (Caesar had received
the surrender of Domitius after the Siege of Corfinium, showing mercy to all
enemy combatants) and Cicero was still working on a negotiated peace. He
forwarded Caesar’s letter to his best friend Atticus for feedback on March 13.
Caesar to Oppius and Cornelius, Greetings

I am very glad to hear from your letters how strongly you approve of what
happened at Corfinium. I shall follow your advice with pleasure—with all
the more pleasure because I had myself made up my mind to act with the
greatest moderation, and to do my best to effect a reconciliation with Pom-
pey. Let us see if by moderation we can win all hearts and secure a lasting
victory, since by cruelty others have been unable to escape from hatred
and to maintain their victory for any length of time, except L. Sulla, whose
example I do not intend to follow. This is a new way of conquering, to
strengthen one’s position by kindness and generosity. As to how this can
be done, some ideas have occurred to me and many more can be found.
I should like you to turn some attention to the matter.
I have [captured] N. Magius, a [prefect] of Pompey. Of course I kept to
my policy and set him free at once. So now two of Pompey’s [prefects] of
engineers have fallen into my hands and I have set them free. If they have
any gratitude, they ought to exhort Pompey to prefer my friendship to that
of men who were always the bitterest enemies both to him and to me. It
is their [these enemies’] machinations that have brought the State into its
present plight.
Source: Marcus Tullius Cicero. Letters to Atticus. Vol. II. (Book IX, Letter VIIc).
Translated by E. O. Winstedt. London: William Heinemann, 1913.
APPIAN DESCRIBES THE KEY BATTLE

OF PHARSALUS (48 BCE )
The Roman History by Appian of Alexandria (ca. 95–ca. 165 CE), especially
the section on the Civil Wars, is one of our invaluable resources on the Late
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Roman Republic. In these excerpts, he adds his own theatrical flair and emo-
tion to the standard story of the battle.
2.75.1. . . . But there was no drawing back now, when things were bal-
anced on the razor’s edge. Wherefore, leaving 4,000 of his Italian troops to
guard his camp, Pompey drew up the remainder between the city of Phar-
salus and the river Enipeus opposite the place where Caesar was marshalling
his forces. Each of them ranged his Italians in front, divided into three lines
with a moderate space between them, and placed his cavalry on the wings
of each division. Archers and slingers were mingled among all. Thus were
the Italian troops disposed, on which each commander placed his chief
reliance. . . . Pompey stationed the Macedonians, Peloponnesians, Boeo-
tians, and Athenians near the Italian legions. . . . The rest, as Caesar had
anticipated, he ordered to lie in wait by tribes outside of the line of battle,
and when the engagement should become close, to surround the enemy,
to pursue, to do what damage they could, and to plunder Caesar’s camp,
which was without defences. . . .
2.78.1 When they were waiting and looking at each other the day was
advancing. All the Italian troops stood motionless in their places, but when
Pompey saw that his allied forces were falling into confusion by reason of
the delay he feared lest the disorder should spread from them before the
beginning of the battle. So he sounded the signal first and Caesar echoed
it back. Straightway the trumpets, of which there were many distributed
among the divisions of so great a host, aroused the soldiers with their inspir-
ing blasts, and the standard-bearers and officers put themselves in motion
and exhorted their men. They all advanced confidently to the encounter,
but with stupor and the deepest silence, like men who had had experience
in many similar engagements. And now, as they came nearer together, there
was first a discharge of arrows and stones. Then, as the cavalry were a little
in advance of the infantry, they charged each other. Those of Pompey pre-
vailed and began to outflank the Tenth Legion. Caesar then gave the signal
to the cohorts in ambush and these, starting up suddenly, advanced to meet
the cavalry, and with spears elevated aimed at the faces of the riders, who
could not endure the enemy’s savagery, nor the blows on their mouths and
eyes, but fled in disorder. Thereupon Caesar’s men, who had just now been
afraid of being surrounded, fell upon the flank of Pompey’s infantry which
was denuded of its cavalry supports.
2.79.1 When Pompey learned this he ordered his infantry not to ad-
vance farther, not to break the line of formation, and not to hurl the jav-
elin, but to open their ranks, bring their spears to rest, and so ward off the
onset of the enemy. Some persons praise this order of Pompey as the best
in a case where one is attacked in flank, but Caesar criticises it in his letters.
He says that the blows are delivered with more force, and that the spirits of
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the men are raised, by running, while those who stand still lose courage by
reason of their immobility and become excellent targets for those charging
against them. So, he says, it proved in this case, for the Tenth Legion, with
Caesar himself, surrounded Pompey’s left wing, now deprived of cavalry,
and assailed it with javelins in flank, where it stood immovable; until, finally,
the assailants threw it into disorder, routed it, and this was the beginning
of the victory. In the rest of the field slaughter and wounding of all kinds
were going on, but no cry came from the scene of carnage, no lamentation
from the wounded or the dying, only sighs and groans from those who
were falling honourably in their tracks. The allies, who were looking at the
battle as at a spectacle, were astonished at the discipline of the combatants.
So dumbfounded were they that they did not dare attack Caesar’s tents, al-
though they were guarded only by a few old men. Nor did they accomplish
anything else, but stood in a kind of stupor.
2.80.1 As Pompey’s left wing began to give way his men even still re-
tired step by step and in perfect order, but the allies who had not been in
the fight, fled with headlong speed. . . . Then the rest of Pompey’s Italian
legions, perceiving the disaster to the left wing, retired slowly at first, in
good order, and still resisting as well as they could; but when the enemy,
flushed with victory, pressed upon them they turned in flight. . . .
2.81.1. . . . So they [Caesar’s troops] fell upon the [enemy] camp and as-
saulted it with the utmost disdain for the defenders. When Pompey learned
this he started up from his strange silence, exclaiming, “What! in our very
camp?” Having spoken thus he changed his clothing, mounted a horse,
and fled with four friends. . . . So Caesar established himself in Pompey’s
camp as he had promised to do when he was preparing for the battle, and
ate Pompey’s supper, and the whole army feasted at the enemy’s expense.
Source: Appian. Roman History, The Civil Wars. Vol. III. Book 2, Chapters 75,
78–81. Edited by Horace White. Loeb Classical Library No. 4. Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1913.
JULIUS CAESAR BEFORE AND AFTER THE

BATTLE OF PHARSALUS (48 BCE )
In these excerpts from the Bellum Civile, his memoir on the Civil War between
himself and Pompey’s faction, Caesar reveals his claims to self-defense and pa-
triotism, as well as his trademark clemency and the fierce devotion of his men.
3.90 When, according to the custom of war, he was exhorting his army
to battle, and setting forth his unbroken record of kindness to his men, he
particularly reminded them that he could call his troops to witness with
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what zeal he had sought peace, what negotiations he had conducted. . . .

He had never, he said, wished to squander the blood of his soldiers or to
deprive the republic of either of its armies. After delivering this speech, the
soldiers clamouring for action and burning with zeal for the fight, he gave
the signal with a trumpet.
3.91 There was in Caesar’s army a reservist, [C.] Crastinus, who in the
previous year had served under him as first centurion in the Tenth Legion,
a man of remarkable valour. On the signal being given: “Follow me,” said
he, “you who have been my comrades, and give your commander your
wonted loyal service. This one battle alone remains; when it is over he will
recover his dignity and we our liberty.” At the same time, looking at Cae-
sar, he says: “To-day, General, I will give you occasion to thank me alive
or dead.” Having said this, he ran forward first from the right wing, and
about one hundred and twenty picked men of the same cohort, serving as
volunteers, followed him.
3.98 At early dawn Caesar ordered all those [defeated enemies] who had
taken up their position on the hill to come down from the higher ground
to the plain and to throw down their arms. When they did this without
demur and, flinging themselves on the ground in tears, with outstretched
hands begged him for safety, he consoled them and bade them rise, and
addressing a few words to them about his own lenity to lessen their fears,
preserved them all safe and commended them to his soldiers, urging that
none of them should be injured and that they should not find any of their
property missing.
Source: Julius Caesar. Civil Wars. Book 3, Chapters 90, 91, 98. Translated by
A. G. Peskett. Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1914.
THE REACTION OF OCTAVIAN AND HIS FAMILY TO

CAESAR’S ASSASSINATION (44 BCE ) IN NICOLAUS OF
DAMASCUS’S LIFE OF AUGUSTUS
The Greek scholar Nicolaus of Damascus (ca. 64 BCE–after 4 BCE), who came to
know well Antony, Cleopatra, and Octavian-Augustus, composed a contempo-
rary biography of the latter, extant today only in fragments. In these excerpts,
he conveys the emotional turmoil and conflicting decisions of Caesar’s relatives
in the aftermath of his assassination.
130: (17) . . . When he arrived there he [Octavius] met people who had
been in Rome when Caesar was buried; and they told him, among other
things, that he had been named in the will as Caesar’s son, inheriting three
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fourths of his property, the remaining share having been set aside to pay
the sum of seventy-five drachmae to each man in the city. He had enjoined
Atia, the youth’s mother, to take charge of his burial, but a great crowd
had forced its way into the Forum and had there cremated the body and
interred the remains. . . . Lepidus, the Master of the Horse, and . . . Anto-
nius, Caesar’s colleague in the consulship, . . . were promising to avenge
Caesar’s death. . . . A little later, all these [assassins] came down from the
Capitoline, having received pledges of safety from Antonius who now had
a large force, but who for the present had given up his plan to avenge Cae-
sar’s murder. . . . Even their [assassins’] houses were besieged by the peo-
ple, not under any leader, but the populace itself was enraged on account
of the murder of Caesar, of whom they were fond, and especially when they
had seen his bloody garment and newly slain body brought to burial when
they had forced their way into the Forum and had there interred it.
(18) When Octavius heard this he was moved to tears and grief because
of his memory and affection for the man, and his sorrow stirred anew. Then
he stopped and waited for other letters from his mother and friends in
Rome, although he did not disbelieve those who had reported the events,
for he saw no reason why they should fabricate any falsehood. After this he
set sail for Brundisium, for he had now learned that none of his enemies
were there, though previously he had been suspicious lest the city might be
held by some of them, and consequently he had not recklessly approached
it directly from the other shore. There arrived from his mother also a let-
ter in which was written an urgent request for him to return to her and the
whole household as soon as possible, so that no treachery should come
upon him from without, seeing that he had been designated Caesar’s son.
It bore out the earlier news, and said that the whole populace was aroused
against Brutus and Cassius and their party, and was greatly vexed at what
they had done. His stepfather Philippus sent him a letter asking him not
to take steps to secure Caesar’s bequest but even to retain his own name
because of what had happened to Caesar and to live free from politics and
in safety. Octavius knew that this advice was given with kind intent, but he
thought differently, as he already had his mind on great things and he was
full of confidence; he therefore took upon himself the toil and danger and
the enmity of men whom he did not care to please. Nor did he propose to
cede to anyone a name or a rule so great as his, particularly with the state on
his side and calling him to come into his father’s honors; and very rightly,
since both naturally and by law the office belonged to him, for he was the
nearest relative and had been adopted as son by Caesar himself, and he felt
that to follow the matter up and avenge his death was the proper course
to pursue. This is what he thought, and he wrote and so answered Philip-
pus though he did not succeed in convincing him. His mother Atia, when
she saw the glory of fortune and the extent of the Empire devolving upon
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her own son, rejoiced; but on the other hand knowing that the undertak-
ing was full of fear and danger, and having seen what had happened to her
uncle Caesar, she was not very enthusiastic; so it looked as if she was be-
tween the view of her husband Philippus and that of her son. Hence she
felt many cares, now anxious when she enumerated all the dangers await-
ing one striving for supreme power, and now elated when she thought of
the extent of that power and honor. Therefore she did not dare to dissuade
her son from attempting the great deed and effecting a just requital, but
still she did not venture to urge him on, because fortune seemed somewhat
obscure. She permitted his use of the name Caesar and in fact was the first
to assent. Octavian, having made inquiry as to what all his friends thought
about this also, without delay accepted both the name and the adoption,
with good fortune and favorable omen.
Source: Nicolaus of Damascus. Life of Augustus: A Historical Commentary Embody-

ing a Translation. Fragment 130, Sections 17–18. Translated by Clayton Morris
Hall. Smith College Classical Studies, No. 4. Northampton, MA: Smith College,
1923.
CICERO COMMENTS TO ATTICUS ON THE FALLOUT

FROM CAESAR’S MURDER (APRIL 7, 44 BCE )
M. Tullius Cicero (106–43 BCE) carried on considerable correspondence with
his best friend T. Pomponius Atticus, a well-connected Roman. They relied on
each other for the news of the day, as in this excerpt regarding the aftermath of
Caesar’s assassination.
I have come on a visit to the man [Matius], of whom I was talking to you
this morning. His view is that “the state of things is perfectly shocking: that
there is no way out of the imbroglio. For if a man of Caesar’s genius failed,
who can hope to succeed?” In short, he says that the ruin is complete. I am
not sure that he is wrong; but then he rejoices in it, and declares that within
twenty days there will be a rising in Gaul: that he has not had any conversa-
tion with anyone except Lepidus since the Ides of March: finally that these
things can’t pass off like this. What a wise man Oppius is, who regrets Cae-
sar quite as much, but yet says nothing that can offend any loyalist! But
enough of this. Pray don’t be idle about writing me word of anything new,
for I expect a great deal. Among other things, whether we can rely on Sex-
tus Pompeius; but above all about our friend Brutus, of whom my host
says that Caesar was in the habit of remarking: “It is of great importance
what that man wishes; at any rate, whatever he wishes he wishes strongly”:
and that he noticed, when he [Brutus] was pleading for Deiotarus at Nicaea,
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that he seemed to speak with great spirit and freedom. Also—for I like to
jot down things as they occur to me—that when on the request of Sestius
I went to Caesar’s house, and was sitting waiting till I was called in, he
[Caesar] remarked: “Can I doubt that I am exceedingly disliked, when
Marcus Cicero has to sit waiting and cannot see me at his own convenience?
And yet if there is a good-natured man in the world it is he; still I feel no
doubt that he heartily dislikes me.”
Source: Marcus Tullius Cicero. The Letters of Cicero. Letter XXX (Letters to Atticus
Book 14, Letter 1). Translated by Evelyn S. Shuckburgh. London: G. Bell and Sons,
1899–1900.
SUETONIUS ON THE VENGEANCE OF

OCTAVIAN-AUGUSTUS
In his biography of Octavian (later emperor Augustus), C. Suetonius Tran-
quillus (ca. 70–ca. 130 CE), a very important and influential biographer in
the Latin language, described how the young man exacted vengeance for the
murder of his adopted father, Julius Caesar. As the excerpts reveal, Octavian
did not follow Caesar’s lead in behaving with moderation or clemency.
9.1. . . . The civil wars which he [Octavian-Augustus] waged were

five . . . the first and last of these were against Marcus Antonius, the second
against Brutus and Cassius, the third against Lucius Antonius, brother of
the triumvir, and the fourth against Sextus Pompeius, son of Gnaeus.
10.1 The initial reason for all these wars was this: since he considered
nothing more incumbent on him than to avenge his uncle’s death and
maintain the validity of his enactments, immediately on returning from
Apollonia he resolved to surprise Brutus and Cassius by taking up arms
against them; and when they foresaw the danger and fled, to resort to law
and prosecute them for murder in their absence. . . .
13.1 Then, forming a league with Antony and Lepidus, he finished the
war of Philippi also in two battles, although weakened by illness, being
driven from his camp in the first battle and barely making his escape by
fleeing to Antony’s division. He did not use his victory with moderation,
but after sending Brutus’s head to Rome, to be cast at the feet of Caesar’s
statue, he vented his spleen upon the most distinguished of his captives, not
even sparing them insulting language.
Source: C. Suetonius Tranquillus. The Lives of the Twelve Caesars: The Life of the
Divine Augustus. Chapters 9, 10, 13. Translated by J. C. Rolfe. Loeb Classical Li-
brary. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1914.
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918
Index
Note: Page numbers in boldface reflect main entries in the book.

Abrogatio imperii, 420–21 318–20, 551; food and, 347–48;
Absolute equality (aequalitas), 478 trade and, 829
Acceptance of equity (aequitas or Aedui (tribe), 5–8; Ariovistus and,
aequum ius), 477 46–48, 403; Belgae and, 83; Ger-
Accius, 823 mans and, 6–7, 382; Suebi and, 380,
Achaea, 227, 644, 683, 805, 828 782; Vercingetorix and, 879–80
Achievements of the Divine Augustus Aegisthus, 531
(Res Gestae Divi Augusti), 543 Aegus, 403
Achillas, 25–26, 174, 693 Aemilia Scaura, 326, 532
Achilles, 628 Aemilius Scaurus, M., 248, 544, 735
Actium, Battle of (31 BCE), 292 Aeneas, 8–10, 9 (photo), 11, 349,
Addison, Joseph, 479 873
Adherbal, 424 Aeneid (Virgil), 10, 11–12
Adriatic Sea, 3–5, 99, 541; Brundi- Aequabilitas (uniformity), 478
sium and, 108; Illyricum and, 417; Aequalitas (absolute equality), 478
navy in, 577; panorama of, Aequitas or aequum ius (acceptance of
4 (photo) equity), 477
Aduatuci (tribe), 29, 758–59 Aerarium Saturni (treasury of
Advisory court (consilium), 685 Saturn), 837–40
Advocati (lawyers), 245, 455 Aes (cast bronze), 219
Aediles, 361–62, 514, 516; Bibulus as, Aesculapius, 709
94; Catulus the Younger and, 165; Aetolians, 630, 827
Cicero, M., as, 177; Cicero, Q., as, Afranius, 134; Ilerda, Battle of, and,
181; Clodius as, 213; elections and, 172, 769; imperator and, 424;
Index
Sulla, F., and, 801; Trebonius and, and, 324; Mithradates VI and,
841; Triumvirate and, 856 555; ocean and, 585–86; Parthia
Africa, 227, 267, 683; Catiline in, and, 21, 617; piracy and, 634; The
149, 211, 230; Juba I and, 434–35; Prince and, 509
Lepidus the Triumvir and, 471. Alexander VI (pope), 510–11
See also North Africa Alexandria, 23–24, 23 (photo), 198,
African War, 88, 600 431, 577. See also Library of
Agamemnon, 531 Alexandria
Agathocles, 509 “Alexandria” (Bruyn), 23 (photo)
Ager publicus. See Public land Alexandrian War, 88, 600
Ager Romanus (Roman territory), Alexandrian War (Fall 48 BCE–Spring
226 47 BCE), 24–28, 458, 495, 744
Aggravated execution (summa Alliances, 731
supplicia), 260 Allobroges (tribe), 376, 396–97, 403;
Agricolae (farmers), 13–14, 828; Aedui and, 5; Dyrrachium, Siege of,
sacrifices and, 721 and, 303; Fabius Maximus and, 352
Agriculture, 13–16; land reform and, Amantius, 627
449–53; slavery and, 15; subsis- Amata, 12
tence, 13 Ambarvalia, 504
Agrippa, M., 42–43, 208, 590, 594, Ambiorix, 28–31, 835; aquilifer and,
748 777; Belgae and, 84, 445, 842;
Ahala, 113 Cicero, Q., and, 182; Labienus and,
Ahriman, 617 29, 445–46; Sabinus, Q. T., and,
Ahura Mazda, 617 172, 790
Alae (cavalry units), 55, 775–76 Ambitus/Bribery, 31–33, 155, 246
Alaudae (Larks), 460 Ambrones (tribe), 376, 381, 525–26
Alba Longa, 873–74 Amburbium, 504
Alban Hills, 716 American Caesar: Douglas MacArthur
Albinus, A. Postumius, 810 (Manchester) (book 1978/docu-
Albinus, D. Brutus, 300, 413–14, 576, mentary 1983), 33–35
578, 599, 603, 605; Antony and, American International Pictures, 751
40; Conspiracy of the Liberators Amicitia (friendship), 623
and, 236; Domitius Ahenobarbus, Ammon, 290
L., and, 297; haruspicy and, 390; Amphorae, 830 (photo), 832
Massilia, Siege of, and, Anacreon, 160
534–35 Ancestral ghosts. See Di Manes
Alea (dice), 704 Anchises, 9, 873
Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE), 7, 16–19, Ancient glory in warfare (veterem belli
380, 446, 759, 842, 881 gloriam), 384
Alexander Helios, 202 Ancus Marcius, 331, 728
Alexander Severus, 432 Andreani, Andrea, 850 (photo)
Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE), Andronicus, Livius, 823
19–23, 290, 511, 889; bust of, Androsthenes, 828
20 (photo); Cleopatra and, 201, Angusti clavus, 217, 326
203; colonies and, 227; Dacians Anima (spirit), 563
and, 271; Egypt and, 314; epilepsy Anna Perenna, 411
920
Index
Annales (annals), 543 690; in Rome (TV series), 391, 393;

Annales Maximi (Great Annals), 543 Sextus Pompey and, 746–47;
Annia, 189 suicide of, 205, 791; Trebonius
Anti-Cato (Caesar), 154, 158 and, 39, 415, 843–45
Antigonos, Matthew, 431–32 Antyllus, 43, 590, 594
Antiochus III, 509 Apamea Myrlea, 227
Antiochus IV, 430 Aphrodite, 198, 872–73, 874. See also
Antipater, 431 Venus
Antistius Labeo, 471 Apollo, 97, 342, 709
Antonia, 469 Apollonius of Rhodes, 44–46,
Antoninus Pius, 377, 432 611–12
Antonius, L., 42, 455 Apotheosis, 291
Antonius, Marcus (grandfather of Appetizer ( gustus), 345
Antony), 634–35 Appian Describes the Key Battle of Phar-
Antonius Creticus, 635–36 salus (48 BCE), 895–97
Antonius Hybrida, C., 149–50, 153, Appian of Alexandria: on Alexander
179, 248, 613 the Great, 22; on Cinna the Elder,
Antony and Cleopatra (McCullough), 186; Cleopatra (film) and, 207; on
538 Domitius Ahenobarbus, L., 294;
Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 on Pharsalus, Battle of, 895–97; on
BCE), 35–44, 257, 290–91, 295, Spartacus, 771
738, 836, 893, 899, 901; Adri- Appian Way. See Via Appia
atic Sea and, 4; Asinius Pollio and, Appius Claudius Caecus, 695, 736
63; Balbus, L. C., and, 79; Bibu- Apprenticeship, 307
lus and, 100; Brundisium and, 109; Aqua Appia, 695
Brutus, M. J., and, 116; Caesarion Aquae et igni interdictio (prohibition
and, 124–25; Cassius and, 146–47; of water and fire), 332
Cicero, M., and, 39–41, 180, 592; Aquilifer (standard-bearer), 423,
Cicero, Q., and, 184; in Cleopatra 776 (photo), 777, 815
(film), 208, 209; Cleopatra and, Aquilius, M.’, 555–56
11, 21, 22, 42–43, 201–5, 589–90, Aquilius Gallus, P., 841–42
593–95, 690; coins of, 36 (photo), Aquillius, 580
37 (photo); Conspiracy of the Lib- Aratrum (ploughshares), 14
erators and, 236; Curio and, 264, Arch of Triumph, 395 (photo)
265; as dictator, 285; Dyrrachium Archers (sagittarii), 52
siege and, 302; eulogies by, 330–31; Area Sacra, 138
Hirtius and, 603–4; homosexual- Arelate, 227
ity and, 398; Ides of March and, Ares, 873
39; Jews and, 432; in Julius Caesar, Argentarii (money holders), 277, 831
751, 754–55; Lepidus the Triumvir Argiletum, 353
and, 467, 469; Lupercalia and, 502, Ariobarzanes, 579
503; Marcellus, C., and, 520; as Ariovistus, 6, 46–49, 91, 136,
Master of Horse, 38; Octavian- 547–48, 782; Germans and, 46–48,
Augustus and, 40–43, 591, 592; 382–83; honor and, 402–3; Sparta-
Parthia and, 42, 593, 748; proscrip- cus and, 769; Tenth Legion and,
tions and, 680; Ptolemy XII and, 47, 813
921
Index
Aristobulus II, 243, 431 852; Cicero, M., and, 179; Domi-
Aristocracy, 80, 234, 278, 319; army tius Ahenobarbus, L., and, 294;
officers of, 56; Bibulus and, 97; elections and, 294, 318, 320;
Brutus, M. J., and, 115; dignitas equites and, 325; impeachment
and, 145; dinner parties of, 346; and, 420; Lepidus the Triumvir
domi nobiles, 176, 327; magistrates and, 467; magistrates and, 514;
and, 516; marriage and, 131, 532; Marius and, 523
plebs and, 639–42; poetry and, 160; Assembly of Curiae (Comitia Curiata),
Senate and, 729, 732 212, 662, 664–65
Aristotle, 289, 481 Assembly of Tribes (Comitia Tributa),
Armatura (battle training), 55, 361 31, 167, 318, 452, 514,
Armilustrium, 505 666, 668
Arms and armor, 49–53 Asses (bronze coins), 220–21
Army, 54–58, 546 Astrology, 711
Armytage, J. C., 412 (photo) Astronomy, 313
Arpinum, 327 Ategua, siege of, 565–66
Arrows (sagittae), 53 Ateius Capito, C., 841–42
Arsinoë, 316; Achillas and, 26; exile Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE), 65–69, 71–72,
of, 27, 200–201; Ptolemy XIII and, 438, 899–900; Aurelia and, 66–67;
693–94 Octavia and, 588; Octavian-Augustus
The Art of War (Machiavelli), 512 and, 65–68, 591–92; in Rome
Artavasdes II, 618 (TV series), 393–94
Artemidorus of Cnidos, 415 Atia Tertia, 72
Artillery devices, 535, 757 Atilius, 561
Artistic depictions of Caesar, 58–62 Attalus III (king), 555
Arval brethren, 504 Attempted overthrow of the State
Arverni (tribe), 16, 402, 878, 881; (seditio), 246
Aedui and, 5, 7; Labienus and, 446. Atticus, T. Pomponius, 96, 124, 200,
See also Vercingetorix 476, 602, 808, 895, 900–901; Asin-
Arx, 140 ius Pollio and, 62; as banker, 276
Asander, 627 Attius Varus, 172, 863
Ascanius, 12 Atuatuci (tribe), 182
Asia Minor, 211, 252, 555, 617, 827; Auctoritas, 163, 733
Apollonius of Rhodes in, 44, 611; Auguraculum, 142
Arsinoë in, 200; Cinna the Elder Augurs, 710–11
in, 186; coinage in, 221; extraordi- Augustine, 724
nary commands in, 336; Jews in, Augustus. See Octavian-Augustus
429–30; Lucullus in, 497, 807; Aulerci (tribe), 402
Mithradates VI in, 556–58; Phar- Aurelia, 69–72, 333, 436, 661; Atia
naces in, 625–26; piracy in, and, 66–67; Bona Dea and, 71,
635–37; public works in, 698 102, 651; Cinna the Younger and,
Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE), 190; Cornelia and, 242; debt and,
62–65, 88, 553, 648, 745 278; dreams and, 299; education
Aspis (shield), 49 of, 307; in Subura, 779
Assembly of Centuries (Comitia Cen- Aurelia/Aurelian family, 69–73
turiata), 665–66, 685, 735, 848, Aureus (gold coins), 221
922
Index
Auspices, 597–98, 710–11 Bellum Hispaniense, 88

Autobiographies, 544 Berenice, 197–98, 690
Autronius Paetus, P., 230–32 Betrothal (sponsalia), 528
Auxilia (contingents), 56, 364, 460 Bibliotheca Alexandrina, 482 (photo)
Aventine Hill, 140, 343 Bibulus (d. 48 BCE), 94–101, 399,
437, 457, 786, 811, 857; Adriatic
Baculus, P. Sextius, 173 Sea and, 3; auspices and, 598; brib-
Balbus, L. Cornelius, 77–80, 601–2, ery and, 32, 94, 156, 293; fasces
676, 895 and, 488; land reform and, 452;
Balbus, M. Atius, 66, 589, 591 Optimates and, 94–98; Populares
Ball games, 704 and, 668; Ptolemy XII and, 689;
Banking, 276–77 in Rome (TV series), 393; Vatinius
Barbatius Pollio, 37 (photo) and, 867
Barloccini, B., 729 (photo) Biographies, 643
Bartering, 219 Bithynia, 227, 807
Bartolini, Lorenzo, 510 (photo) Black Death, 509
Basilica Aemilia, 81, 261, 352–53, Black Guelphs, 274
698 Bloodless sacrifices, 721
Basilica Julia, 80–82, 81 (photo), Board games, 704
354, 698 Bocchus I, 433, 525, 795, 800
Basilica Opimia, 354 Bocchus II, 435, 486, 800, 801, 819
Basilicae, 255 Bogud, 435, 486
Bathhouses, 705 Boii (tribe), 372
Batiatus, Lentulus, 770 Bona Dea, 101–3, 212, 650–51, 709;
Battle training. See Armatura Aurelia and, 71, 102, 651; Plutarch
Battles. See specific battles on, 101, 647; Populares and,
Belgae (tribe), 6, 82–85, 343, 380, 671–72; Vestal Virgins and, 885
382, 783; Labienus and, 444–45; Bonaparte, Napoleon, 596
siegecraft and, 758–59; Tenth Boniface VIII (pope), 274
Legion and, 814; Trebonius and, Borgia, Cesare (1476–1507 CE),
842 510–11
Bellovaci (tribe), 83–84, 105; Aedui Bracae (trousers), 217
and, 7; gloria and, 384; honor and, Bramante, 661
403 Brando, Marlon, 751
Bellum Africum, 88 Breakfast (ientaculum), 344
Bellum Alexandrinum (Hirtius), 88 Breastplate. See Lorica; Thorax
Bellum Catilinae (Sallust), 148 Bribery. See Ambitus
Bellum Civile (Caesar), 85–89, 91, Bridges (pontes), 412
257, 542, 545, 613, 893–94; Phar- Brigantia, 712
salus, Battle of, in, 897–98 Bright ones (clarissimi), 730
Bellum Gallicum (Caesar), 89–93, Britain, 103–7, 104 (photo); first
542, 545; Caesar’s sayings in, invasion of, 891–92
612–13; crossing the Rubicon and, Britoni (tribe), 105–6
257; first invasion of Britain and, Bronze coins (asses), 220–21
891–92; Fortuna and, 5; glory Brundisium, 107–10, 108 (photo)
and, 384; Tenth Legion and, 812 Brutus, M. Iunius, 464–65
923
Index
Brutus, M. Junius (ca. 85–42 BCE), Caesar Must Die (film), 752
39, 110–18, 235, 415–16, 649, Caesar Refuses the Diadem,
740, 899, 900–901; Anti-Cato and, 501 (photo)
158; bust of, 112 (photo); Cas- Caesar salad, 171
sius and, 114, 144–47; Cato the Caesares (Suetonius), 785
Younger and, 110, 112–14, 235, Caesarian section, 70
495; in Cleopatra (film), 210; coins Caesarion (47–30 BCE), 123–26, 123
of, 111 (photo), 412 (photo); in (photo), 200–201, 203, 594
The Divine Comedy, 275; in Julius Caesarism, 493
Caesar, 751–52, 753; Lepidus the Caesar’s Response to the Conspiracy of
Triumvir and, 468; letters by Cicero, Catiline (63 BCE), 890–91
M., to, 476; omens and, 600; as Caesar’s Women (McCullough),
Optimate, 606; as plebeian, 621; in 537
Rome (TV series), 393; suicide of, Calcei (shoes), 218
791; Triumvirate and, 41; Vatinius Calendar, 126–30, 284, 411, 649;
and, 871 mosaic, 127 (photo); reform of,
Bruyn, Cornelius de, 23 (photo) 787; solar, 129, 313, 787
Bulla, 342 Calhern, Louis, 751
Bundles (manipuli), 456 Caligula, 432, 787
Burebista, 271–72 Callaici (tribe), 422
Burge, Stuart, 751 Callimachus, 160, 483
Burial, 254 Calpenus, Quintus, 361
Burnett, W. R., 284 Calpurnia, 39, 130–33, 413–15, 741;
Burton, Richard, 209 in Cleopatra (film), 210; dreams
Busts: of Alexander the Great, and, 132, 300, 324, 414; haruspicy
20 (photo); of Brutus, M. J., 112 and, 390; in Julius Caesar, 751,
(photo); of Caesar, 59, 59 (photo); of 753–54; painting of, 130 (photo)
Cato the Younger, 154 (photo); Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus, L., 857
of Pompey the Great, 652 (photo) Campaigning, for elections, 320,
Byzantine wall mosaic, 169 (photo) 513
Campo dei Fiori, 825
Caburus, 377 Camps, 133–37, 133 (photo)
Caecilia Metella, 795, 799 Campus Martius (Field of Mars),
Caecilius, T., 172 137–39, 780, 798, 822, 824, 853;
Caecilius Statius, 823 army training at, 55; cremation and,
Caelian Hill, 140 254–55; Domitius Ahenobarbus,
Caelius Rufus, 518, 550, 553 L., at, 294; elections and, 318, 411;
Caesar, C. Julius (father of Caesar), 69 food and, 348; funerals and, 561;
Caesar, L. Julius, 164, 195 games and, 359, 362–63; Julia and,
“Caesar,” as title, 423 438; Popular Assemblies and, 664;
Caesar Crossing Stormy Seas, Saepta Iulia and, 697; sports and,
586 (photo) 705
“Caesar I–IV” (computer games, Campus Sceleratus (Field of Desecra-
1993–2006), 121–23 tion), 885
Caesar: Let the Dice Fly Canvassing, for elections, 321
(McCullough), 537 Capite censi, 54, 55, 57, 665
924
Index
Capitoline Hill, 39, 139–42, Catholic Church, 261, 274, 509

140 (photo), 365, 674, 695, 723; Catiline (ca. 108–62 BCE), 148–53,
Brutus, M. J., and, 115; Catulus 321, 607, 621, 671, 726, 737;
the Younger and, 141, 167; Con- Cato the Younger and, 152–53,
spiracy of 65 and, 231; Conspiracy 155–56; Cicero, M., and, 148–53,
of the Liberators and, 237; Forum 177, 179, 211, 737; Clodius and,
Iulium/Forum Caesaris and, 349; 211–12; Crassus and, 149–50, 252;
trophies and, 853–54 debt and, 277–78; dignitas and,
Capitoline Museums, 141 286–87; patronage and, 623; pro-
Capitolium, 141 scriptions and, 679. See also Conspir-
Caracalla, 196, 511 acy of 65 BCE
Carcer (prison), 674 Cato (Addison), 479
Cardini, Cesare, 171 “Cato” (Caesar), 603
Care for mortals (cura morum), 515 Cato the Elder, 9, 14–15, 732, 762
Carrhae, Battle of, 143, 253 Cato (95–46 BCE), 32, 153–59, 421,
Carthage, 227, 228, 486, 533; Dido, 437, 727, 740–41, 818, 842; army
Queen of Carthage, 10, 11–12, and, 56; Bibulus and, 95–96; Bru-
873; Scipio Africanus and, 57 tus, M. J., and, 110, 112–14, 235,
Cassius (ca. 85–42 BCE), 142–48, 257, 495; bust of, 154 (photo); on Cae-
415, 649, 723, 738, 799, 827, 836, sar, 677; Calpurnia and, 131; Cati-
893, 901; Bibulus and, 98; line and, 152–53, 155–56; Catulus
Brutus, M. J., and, 114, 144–47; in and, 167–68; Cicero, M., and, 154,
The Divine Comedy, 275; Helvetii 155, 158, 603; Clodius and,
and, 396; Hirtius and, 603; in Julius 102–3, 156–57, 213; clothing of,
Caesar, 752, 753; legions and, 457; 217; Domitius Ahenobarbus, L.,
Lepidus the Triumvir and, 467; lib- and, 156, 293, 295; education of,
ertas and, 479; Marcellus, C., and, 307; equites and, 329; filibuster
520; as Optimate, 606; Parthia and, and, 731; grain dole and, 348; in
143–44, 618; Pharsalus, Battle of, Luca, 491; Lucan and, 495; Mar-
and, 144, 630; as plebeian, 621; cellus, M., and, 517; on marriage,
Plutarch on, 234; suicide of, 791 532; Metellus Scipio and, 434;
Cassius Dio, 294–95, 446, 881; on Optimates and, 155, 158; as plebe-
first invasion of Britain, 891–92; on ian, 621; Plutarch and, 646, 792;
Pompey the Great, 894 Populares and, 155, 671; in Rome
Cassius Dio Describes Julius Caesar’s (TV series), 393; suicide of,
First Invasion of Britain (55 BCE), 791–93, 822, 863; Utica and,
891–92 863–64
Cassius Dio Describes Pompey’s Behav- Catullus, (ca. 84–54 BCE), 159–63,
ior at the Start of the Civil War 400, 607, 646
(49 BCE), 894 Catulus the Younger (d. ca. 61 BCE),
Cassivellaunus (tribe), 106–7 163–68, 196, 382, 661–62, 670,
Cast bronze (aes), 219 688, 726; Capitoline Hill and, 141,
Castor, 94, 291, 709, 810. See also 167; eulogies and, 330; Lepidus
Temple of Castor and Pollux the Elder and, 164–65, 335, 366,
Castrae. See Camps 462–63, 465; Marius and, 164, 167,
Cathedra, 236 608; memoirs by, 544; as Optimate,
925
Index
163, 166, 606; as plebeian, 621; burial of, 563; Caesarion and, 124;
Pompey the Great and, 165–66, Catiline and, 148–53, 177, 179,
654; Transpadane Gauls and, 211, 737; Cato the Younger and,
835 154, 155, 158, 603; Catulus and,
Catuvellauni (tribe), 107 167–68; in Cleopatra (film), 210;
Catuvolcus, 28–29 Cleopatra and, 200; Clodius and,
Causia, 219 179, 211–15, 294, 841; Curio and,
Cavalli, Fabio, 752 263, 264; dignitas and, 287; Domi-
Cavalry. See Equites tius Ahenobarbus, L., and, 293,
Cavalry units. See Alae 294; education of, 307; exile of,
Celeritas, 258 786; games and, 363; homosexual-
Cella, 810 ity and, 398; Labienus and,
Celtiberians, 767–68 443, 446; Lepidus the Triumvir
Celtic tribes, 104–5, 372, 379, 833. and, 469; letters of, 475–76; liber-
See also specific tribes tas and, 478; in Luca, 491; Luper-
Cena (dinner), 345–46 calia and, 503; memoirs and, 545;
Cenomani (tribe), 372, 833 Oppius and, 601–2; Optimates
Censorships, 516 and, 178; oratory and, 611–13;
Census, 168–70, 787 patronage and, 623–24; as plebe-
Centuriate Assembly. See Assembly of ian, 621; Plutarch and, 646; Pom-
Centuries pey the Great and, 178–79, 657;
Centurions, 170–75, 171 (photo) proscriptions and, 681–82; Rabirius
Ceres, 341, 709 and, 739, 845, 848; in Rome (TV
Chainmail coats (lorica hamata, lorica series), 393; Sallust and, 725,
gallica), 52 726; Servilia and, 742; statue of,
Chamberlain, Richard, 755 176 (photo); Sulla, P., and, 232;
Chaperone (custos, paedagogue), 311 taxes and, 808; Theater of Pompey
Chara, 302 and, 824–25; Triumvirate and,
Charlemagne’s Empire, 378 856, 858; Vatinius and,
Chief. See Princeps 867–68
Chilo, Magius, 521 Cicero, Quintus (102–43 BCE), 30,
Christianity, 228, 274–75, 432 181–84, 602, 685, 759, 892; Asin-
Church of S. Maria, 141 ius Pollio and, 63; Labienus and,
Church of the Holy Savior, 445; letters and, 476; Milo and,
169 (photo) 550–51, 553
Cicero, Marcus, 61, 175–80, 236, Cicero Comments to Atticus on the
237, 290, 321, 327, 420, 676, 684, Fallout from Caesar’s Murder
685, 732, 836, 892, 895, 900–901; (April 7, 44 BCE), 900–901
as advocatus, 455; ambitus and, “Cicero Denounces Catiline”
32; Antony and, 39–41, 180, 592; (Maccari), 149 (photo)
Apollonius and, 45; Asinius Pol- Cicero Denouncing Catiline
lio and, 62–63; Balbus, L. C., and, (Barloccini), 729 (photo)
78–79; Bellum Civile and, 86; Bel- Cicero’s Affection for Caesar (Septem-
lum Gallicum and, 89; Bibulus and, ber 28, 54 BCE), 892
98; Bona Dea and, 101; Cilicia, 683
Brutus, M. J., and, 116, 476; Cimber, Tillius, 416
926
Index
Cimbri (tribe), 376, 381, 382, and, 602; honor and, 402, 404;
525–26 imperator and, 424–25; Jews and,
Cimbric War (102–101 BCE), 164, 431; Juba I and, 486; lictors and,
526 488; Lucan and, 493–94; Marcel-
Cingetorix, 91, 445 lus, C., and, 520; military discipline
Cinna Magnus, Cn. Cornelius, 192 and, 548; Milo and, 553; navy and,
Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE), 167, 574, 577; Pompey the Great and,
184–88, 333, 660, 670; Catulus 894; propaganda and, 677; pro-
the Elder and, 164, 662; Cornelia scriptions and, 678–80; in Rome
and, 241, 530 (TV series), 391; suicide and, 791;
Cinna the Younger (d. ca. 43 BCE), Sulla, L. C., and, 283; tax farming
115, 189–92, 420, 736, 747; exile and, 808; Thirteenth Legion and,
of, 333; in Julius Caesar, 753; 460; Trebonius and, 842–43; true
Social War and, 195 causes of, 893–94; Utica and, 863;
Cinnani, 164 Vatinius and, 868–69. See also spe-
Circus Flaminius, 138, 853 cific battles
Circus games, 359, 360 (photo), 444 The Civil War (Caesar), 85–88, 91
Circus Maximus (Grandest Circus), Civitas (citizenship), 193
360, 362, 444, 830–31 Civitas sine suffragio (citizenship with-
Cirta, 227 out the right to vote or hold public
Cistophoroi, 221 office), 193
Citizenship, 193–96, 834 Clan ( gens), 571
Citizenship without the right to vote Clarissimi (bright ones), 730
or hold public office (civitas sine Classis (fight formation), 54, 456
suffragio), 193 Claudius, coin of, 220 (photo)
Civil War (84–82 BCE), 70, 131, 383, Clementia (mercifulness), 87, 431,
385, 411, 457, 469, 533, 541, 676, 681, 788
787; Adriatic Sea and, 3; Alexan- Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE), 24, 25, 27, 28,
drian War and, 24; arms and, 53; 65, 85, 196–207, 317, 483; Ant-
Asinius Pollio and, 64; Atia and, ony and, 11, 21, 22, 42–43, 201–5,
66–67; Balbus, L. C., and, 78–79; 589–90, 593–95, 690; bas-relief of,
Bibulus and, 98; Brundisium and, 123 (photo); Caesarion and, 123;
108; Brutus, M. J., and, 113–14; Cicero, M., and, 200; coin of,
camps and, 134, 136; Capito- 197 (photo); Dolabella,
line Hill and, 141; Cassius and, P. C., and, 201; Octavian and,
144; Catiline and, 149; Cato the 203–5; Ptolemy XIII and, 197,
Younger and, 158; centurions and, 199–200, 691–92; in Rome (TV
170, 172, 174; Cicero, M., and, series), 391; suicide of, 205, 791
176, 180; Cicero, Q., and, 63, 183; Cleopatra (film, 1963), 207–11,
Cinna the Elder and, 188; Cleopatra 207 (photo)
and, 199–200, 692; colonies and, Cleopatra Selene, 202, 206
227; Crassus and, 250; Curio and, Clients. See Patrons and clients
266; Dacians and, 271; debt Climate, of Mediterranean basin, 14
and, 279–80; Dyrrachium siege and, Clivus Capitolinus, 141–42, 354
301; extraordinary commands and, Cloaca Maxima, 351, 642
335; gangs and, 366–67; Hirtius Cloacina, 353
927
Index
Cloak (paenula), 218 Columbaria, 560 (photo)

Clodia, 160 Los Columbarios, 560 (photo)
Clodius (ca. 93–52 BCE), 37, Comedy, 160
211–15, 662–63, 671–72, 811; Comet, as omen, 598 (photo)
Bona Dea and, 101–3; burial of, Comissatio, 346
563; Cato the Younger and, 102–3, Comitia Centuriata. See Assembly of
156–57, 213; Catulus the Younger Centuries
and, 160; Cicero, M., and, 179, Comitia Curiata. See Assembly of
211–15, 294, 841; Cicero, Q., Curiae
and, 181; collegia and, 225; crema- Comitia Tributa. See Assembly of
tion of, 255; Domitius Ahenobar- Tribes
bus, L., and, 294; gang violence Comitium, 353
and, 367; Lucullus and, 211–12, Command without borders (imperium
499; Milo and, 213–15, 248, infinitum), 336
333, 550–52; Plutarch on, 647; Commander’s tent (praetorium), 135
Pompeia and, 287, 650–51; Sallust Commentaries on the Gallic War
and, 725; Trebonius and, 841; Tri- (Caesar), 379, 769
umvirate and, 857 Commentarii, 85, 89, 93, 542
Clothing, 215–19, 216 (photo) Commercium (right to trade legally),
Clytemnestra, 531 193
Cnidian Aphrodite, 872 (photo) Commodus, 511
Coactores, 277 Common dwelling (contubernium),
Coalitions (coitiones), 732 529
Coded letters, 475 Commoners. See Plebs
Coemptio (marriage ceremony), 530 Compotatio, 346
Coercitio, 364 Computer games, 121–22
Cognomen, 571–72, 573–74 Concilium Plebis (Meeting of the
Cohortes (cohorts), 54, 457, 524, 775 Plebeians), 31, 318, 514, 620, 666
Coinage/money, 219–23, 277, Concordia (unity), 609–10
829 (photo), 831, 840; of Antony, Concordia ordinum (harmony
36 (photo), 37 (photo); of Brutus, between the two orders), 177, 327
111 (photo), 411 (photo); of Caesar, Confarreatio (marriage ceremony),
60, 281 (photo), 378 (photo), 412 530
(photo); of Claudius, 220 (photo); Congiaria, 228–30
of Cleopatra, 197 (photo); Gaul Congius, 229
Transalpine and, 375 (photo); of Coniuratio Catilinae (Sallust), 148
Marius, 222; of Octavian-Augustus, Conscripti, 729–30
289 (photo), 588 (photo); of Sulla, Consilium (advisory court), 685
L. C., 223 Conspectu imperatoris, 423
Coitio, 322, 855 Conspiracy of 65 BCE, 230–33, 671,
Coitiones (coalitions), 732 741, 786, 849; Bibulus and, 96;
College of Augurs, 265 Catulus the Younger and, 167;
Collegia, 32, 213, 223–26, 366, 367 Cicero, M., and, 153; Cicero, Q.,
Collegium funebris (mutual burial and, 182; in Plutarch’s Lives, 646;
society), 562 Sallust on, 890–91
Colonies (coloniae), 226–28 Conspiracy of Catiline (Sallust), 726
928
Index
Conspiracy of the Liberators (44 BCE), Cotta, L. Aurunculeius, 28–29, 423

63, 115, 233–38, 843 Cotta, M. Aurelius, 498, 500
Conspirators, 39–40, 411, 413, Cotus, 7
415–16, 742 Cotys, 827
Constantine, 432 Council of 600, 534
Constitution, U.S., 419 Council of kings, 714
“Contest for the Arms of Achilles” Couriers (tabellarii), 474
(Pacuvius), 561 Courts, 244–48
Contingents (auxilia), 56, 364, 460 Craftsmen, 223, 829
Contio, 151, 664–66, 842 Crassus (ca. 112–53 BCE), 248–53,
Contiones, 138, 811 336, 384, 385, 559, 608, 688, 726,
Controversia (determined argument), 785; as advocatus, 455; Bibulus and,
611 94; Cassius and, 143–44; Catiline
Contubernales, 575, 686 and, 149–50, 252; Cato the
Contubernium (common dwelling), Younger and, 156; Catulus the
529 Younger and, 166; Cicero, M., and,
Conubium (right to marry legally), 178–80; Cinna the Elder and, 187;
193, 529 Clodius and, 103, 212, 214; Con-
Conventus, 419, 686 spiracy of 65 and, 231–33; cruci-
Convictolitavis, 7 fixion and, 260; dignitas and, 287;
Convivium, 346 Domitius Ahenobarbus, L., and,
Corfinium, Siege of (49 BCE), 295; food and, 348; Gaul Trans-
238–40, 267, 459, 533, 895 alpine and, 374; loans and, 276,
Corinth, 227 278–79; in Luca, 490–92; military
Cornelia (d. 69 BCE), 130, 240–42, discipline and, 547; Milo and, 551;
287, 436, 658, 670, 889; Cinna ocean and, 585–86; Parthia and,
the Elder and, 241, 530; Cinna the 253, 385, 618; patronage and, 625;
Younger and, 190; death of, 72, Pompey the Great and, 251,
650, 741; education of, 307; eulogy 655–56; proscriptions and, 679;
for, 330–31; marriages of, 532; slavery and, 766; sodalitates and,
Sextus Pompey and, 743; in 32, 225; in Spartacus (film),
Subura, 779 249 (photo), 773–75; taxes and,
Corona aurea, 243, 444 808; Transpadane Gauls and,
Corona civica, 243, 399 834–35; Transpadani and, 196;
Corona graminea, 243 Triumvirate and, 855–56, 858–59;
Corona muralis, 243 Vatinius and, 867–68; Vestal Virgins
Corona ovationis, 243 and, 885–86; wealth of, 249–50
Corona triumphalis, 243 Crastinus, 172–73, 791, 815, 898
Corona vallaris, 243 Credit, 276
Coronae (crowns), 242–44, 777 Cremation, 254–56
Corpores (legal entities), 807 Cremutius Cordus, 163
Corsica, 683, 684, 747, 806 Crepundia, 703
Corvus, 576 Crixus, 772
Cossutia, 241, 329, 528 Crossing the Rubicon, 256–58,
Cotta, C. Aurelius, 69, 230–31, 328 256 (photo), 258, 599, 704
Cotta, L. Aurelius, 69, 70, 711, 716 Crowns. See Coronae
929
Index
Crucifixion, 258–61, 259 (photo) Deification, 289, 291

Cupid, 872 Delacroix, Eugene, 876 (photo)
Cupiditate gloriae, 384 Delmatae (tribe), 417–18
Cura annonae, 348 Denarius (silver coins), 221–22, 278
Cura morum (care for mortals), 515 Dessert (secunda mensa), 345
Curia, 261–62, 716, 723 Determined argument (controversia),
Curia Hostilia, 664, 799 611
Curia Julia (Curia Iulia), 262, Di Manes (ancestral ghosts), 361,
353–54, 698 563, 709
Curiate Assembly. See Assembly of Diana, 709
Curiae Diaspora Jews, 429
Curio (d. 49 BCE), 37, 62–63, Dice games, 704
262–67, 486, 493, 581, 737; in Dickens, Charles, 86
The Divine Comedy, 275; Domitius Dictator, 281–86
Ahenobarbus, L., and, 266, 488; Dictator Perpetuus, 234, 411
homosexuality and, 400; imperator Dido, Queen of Carthage, 10, 11–12,
and, 425; Juba I and, 434; 873
Marcellus, C., and, 519; in Rome Dies lustricus, 573
(TV series), 393 Dignitas (self-worth), 242, 253,
Curse tablets, 711 286–88, 447, 676–77, 786; Bellum
Cursus honorum, 69, 214, 402, Civile and, 87; Cassius and, 145;
512–16, 552 Conspiracy of the Liberators and,
Custos (chaperone), 311 237; Domitius Ahenobarbus, L.,
Cyrenaica, 683 and, 293; Marcellus, C., and, 520
Cyrene, 203, 314, 429, 483, 497 Dinner (cena), 345–46
Dinner parties, 705
Dacians, 271–72, 272 (photo) Dionysus, 341 (photo), 709
Damaste of Sigeum, 8 Dioscuri, 809, 811
Dante’s The Divine Comedy, 272–76, Direct taxes on income (tributum
273 (photo) capitis), 805
Day of Parricide, 416 Direct taxes on land (tributum soli),
Days of the week, 128 805
De Bello Civile (Lucan), 492–96 Directors of the Libraries, 483
De vita Caesarem (Suetonius), 785 Dirge (nenia), 560
Dea Dia, 504 Disciplina Romana, 477
Death: of Cornelia, 72, 650, 741; Discipline, 310; military, 546– 49
masks, 331; of Metellus Pius, Q., Divi Filius, 291–92
660; of Trebonius, 845. See also Divination, 390
Mourning/funerals; Suicide The Divine Comedy (Dante). See
“The Death of Julius Caesar” Dante’s The Divine Comedy
(Armytage), 412 (photo) Divine Julius. See Divus Iulius
Debt laws/loans, 276–80 Divisores, 293
Debt-slavery (nexum), 761–62 Divitiacus, 6–7, 47
Decimation, 250 Divorce. See Marriage/divorce
Decuma, 805–7 Divus Iulius (Divine Julius), 289–93,
Deditio (surrender), 624 677, 785
930
Index
Dolabella, Cn. Cornelius, 45, 455, Economy, 222

613 Education, 307–11
Dolabella, P. Cornelius, 201, 844, 847 Egus, 303
Domi nobiles (hometown aristocrats), Egypt, 252, 291, 312–15, 434, 485,
176, 327 618; Alexandrian War and, 24–28;
Dominatio, 477–80 Antony in, 38, 43; Caesarion and,
Dominatione facti (tyranny of a fac- 123, 125; census and, 168; food
tion), 480 in, 346; letters and, 473; Octavian-
Domitian, 787 Augustus and, 594, 596; Ptolemy XII
Domitius Ahenobarbus, Cn., 189 and, 687–90; Ptolemy XIII and,
Domitius Ahenobarbus (d. 48 BCE), 692; solar calendar in, 129, 787.
108, 293–98, 478, 493, 840, 857, See also Alexandria
858, 895; Cato the Younger and, Egyptians, 315–17. See also specific
156, 293, 295; Corfinium, Siege of, Egyptians
and, 238–40; Curio and, 266, 488; Eighth Legion, 459
extraordinary commands and, 336; Elders. See Patres
in Luca, 490–91; Massilia, Siege of, Elections, 317–22, 367, 462, 665;
and, 533; Optimates and, 293, 295; aediles and, 318–20, 551; Assem-
in Rome (TV series), 393 bly of the Centuries and, 294, 318,
Domitius Calvinus, 459, 630, 632, 320; campaigning for, 320, 513;
827 Campus Martius and, 318, 412;
Domus Publica, 71, 662, 707, 884; canvassing for, 321
Bona Dea and, 102; Julia and, 436; “Electra” (Atilius), 561
Pompeia and, 651 Eleventh Legion, 459
Donations of Alexandria, 43, 125, Embezzlement (peculatus), 246
203 Enemy combatants, 674
Doru (spear), 49 English Channel, 105, 376, 585
Douglas, Kirk, 770, 770 (photo) Ennius, 9, 823
Dowry, 529 Entrepreneurial pirates, 634
Doyle, James W. E., 776 (photo) Epaminondas, 509
Drachma, 221 Epaphroditus, 874
Dreams/dream interpretation, 132, Ephebate, 125
299–301, 324, 414 Epic poetry, 160
Drinking king (rex bibendi), 346 Epicureanism, 751
Druids, 105, 404 Epilepsy (epilepsia), 322–25, 648
Drusus, M. Livius, 154, 195, 227, Epistulae (letters), 472–76
307, 669, 740 Epistulae ad familiares (Tiro), 475
Dumnorix, 7, 90, 402 Epona, 712
Duodecim Scripta (game), 704 Equalizing power (par potestas), 514
Duties. See Munera Equites (cavalry), 54, 186, 276, 286,
Dyrrachium, Siege of (48 BCE), 325–29, 499
301–4, 826–28 Equites equestri censu, 325
Equo publico (public horse), 325
Early Dynastic Period, 313 Equus October (October horse), 359,
Eburones (tribe), 28–30, 84, 182–83, 722, 780
380, 446 Eruditissimus, 784
931
Index
Esquiline Hills, 140, 351, 562, Ferrum (sword), 49, 51

779 Festivals, 341–43; Lupercalia, 39, 290,
Estate. See Latifundiae 501–3, 501 (photo), 716, 751–52,
Ethnarch (leader of the tribe), 431 788; Parentalia, 563; Parilia, 885;
Etruscan Street. See Vicus Tuscus Quinquatrus, 311, 341, 504–5; reli-
Etruscans, 373, 389, 709, 711, 834; gion and, 712; Saturnalia, 152, 311,
art and, 59–60; Capitoline Hill 341, 354, 703
and, 141; games and, 361; Luca Fetiales, 138
and, 489 Field of Desecration (Campus Scelera-
Euheremus of Messene, 290 tus), 885
Eulogies/Imagines, 330–32, 543–44 Field of Mars. See Campus Martius
Eulogium, 330 The Fifteen, 534, 716
Ex ordine, 335 Fifteenth Legion, 457
Exercise, 705 Fifth Alaudae, 460
Exile, 332–34; of Arsinoë, 27, Fifth Legion, 457–58
200–201; of Cicero, M., 786; of Fight formation (phalanx, classis), 54,
Gabinius, 295; Plebeian Assembly 456
and, 190 Filibusters, 731
Expansionism, 422, 444, 556, 579 Fimbria, 557, 581, 797
Expulsion (repudium), 531 Financial officers. See Quaestors
Ex-slaves. See Liberti First Catilinarian Conspiracy. See
Extensive command (imperium Conspiracy of 65 BCE
maius), 337 First javelin man. See Primus pilus
Extispicium, 389 First Legion, 457
Extra ordinem, 250 The First Man in Rome (McCullough),
Extraordinary commands (imperium 537
extra ordinem), 334–38, 656 First Mithradatic War, 497, 556
First Punic War, 108, 330, 577
Fabius, L., 172 First Triumvirate, 64, 131, 322, 657,
Fabius Maximus, Q., 352, 511, 565 737, 855, 857, 859; Cato the
Factio (faction), 732 Younger and, 156; Cicero, M., and,
Faeneratores (money-lenders), 277, 178, 550; Crassus and, 252; domi-
831 natio and, 480; Domitius Aheno-
Falsis (forgery), 246 barbus, L., and, 294; Optimates
Familiaritas (friendship), 624 and, 608; Plutarch on, 647; Trebo-
Farmers. See Agricolae nius and, 841
Farming. See Agriculture Fisci (local treasuries), 221, 684
Fasces, 425, 486–89, 487 (photo), Flaccus, L. Valerius, 170, 377, 735
513, 561, 714 Flaccus, M. Fulvius, 194, 227
Fast, Howard, 770 Flamen Dialis, 241, 530, 660, 710
Father Liber, 343 Flamen Quirinalis, 290
Fausta, 799 Flamines, 660, 710
Faustus, 142, 261 Flaminica Dialis, 530
Favonius, M., 606, 842 Flaminius, C., 695
Felicitas, 468 Flavus, L., 191, 716, 856
Feriae (holidays), 341 Flora, 341
932
Index
Food and drink, 213, 344–49; congi- Fufius Calenus, Q., 870
aria and, 228–29; riots, 348 Fulginius, Q., 172
Footwear, 218 Fulvia, 41–42, 201, 263, 471, 682,
Forgery (falsis), 246 747
Fornix Fabiorum, 352 Fundanius, 222
Fortuna, 4–5, 709 Funditores (slingers), 53
Fortune’s Favorites (McCullough), Funds from the public (pecuniam ex
537 publico), 840
Forum Augusti, 781 Funeral pyres. See Ustrinae
Forum Boarium, 829 Funerals. See Mourning/funerals
Forum Holitorium, 829 Furnival, Robert, 751
Forum Iulium/Forum Caesaris, Further Spain, 21, 278, 323, 565,
349–51, 781, 874 683; Asinius Pollio in, 63; Cas-
Forum Romanum, 40–41, 137, sius in, 467; Piso, Cn. C., in, 231;
351–55, 362, 662; aerial view of, in Plutarch’s Lives, 647; Second
81 (photo); Basilica Julia and, Legion in, 457
80–82; Bibulus and, 95–96; Capito-
line Hill and, 140–41, 140 (photo), Gabinius, 25, 198, 201, 500, 692,
231; contio in, 151; funerals at, 561; 870; Antony and, 38; Egyptians
Lupercalia and, 502; as public work, and, 316; exile of, 295; maiestas
695, 698; recreation in, 704; Temple and, 248; Pompey the Great and,
of Saturn and, 513. See also Domus 656; Ptolemy XII and, 689–90;
Publica Triumvirate and, 857
Forward chief (princeps prior), 171 Gaetulians (tribe), 819, 821
Forward javelin man (pilus prior), 171 Galba, Ser., 173, 768
Forward spearman (hastatus prior), 171 Galea (helmet), 52
Founders of the United States, 479, Gallia Cisalpina. See Gaul Cisalpine
516, 873 Gallia Comata. See Gaul
Fouquet, Jean, 256 (photo) Gallia Transalpina. See Gaul
Fourteenth Legion, 172, 460 Transalpine
Franciscans, 273 The Gallic War (Caesar), 89–93,
Franzero, C. M., 207 600
Free assembly, 368 Gallic Wars, 377, 446, 458, 542, 760,
Free communities, 805 816; Britain and, 103; camps and,
Free marriage, 529–30 135; Catullus and, 161; centurions
Free Republic (libertatem rei publi- and, 171; gloria and, 384–85; honor
cam), 480 and, 402; standards and, 777–78;
Freed, Julius, 346 Tenth Legion and, 288, 815
Frescos: of Mars and Venus, Gambling, 704
216 (photo); of naval battle, Game master (ludi magister), 309
575 (photo) Games, 359–64; computer games,
Friedrich III, 596 121–22; Olympic, 502; as recre-
Friendship, 623–24 ation, 703–4; stage, 823
Front-liners. See Principes Games of the circus. See Ludi circenses
Fruits, 344 Gangs, 157, 213–14, 283, 364–68
Fucine Lake, 699 Gardeners (topiarii), 369
933
Index
Gardens, 368–72, 369 (photo), Gerome, J.-L., 412 (photo)

370 (photo) Gielgud, John, 143 (photo),
Garment bag (tegimentum), 52 750 (photo), 751
Garson, Greer, 751 Glaber, P. Varinius, 771–72
Gaul Cisalpine/Gallia Cisalpina, Gladiators, 361–62, 771
372–74, 379, 490, 684, 834; Albi- Gladius Hispaniensis (Spanish sword),
nus, D. B., in, 40; Brutus, M. J., in, 51
114; Catiline in, 152; colonies in, Glaucia, 365, 736
226; Crassus in, 196; crossing the Globe Theater, 751
Rubicon and, 256–57; Helvetii and, Gloria/glory, 384–86
395; Illyricum and, 418; Lepidus Gloria belli, 384–85
the Elder and, 463 Gloriam recusandi (glory of refusing),
Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina, 385
91, 374–77, 379–80, 463, 471, 518; Gnipho, M. Antonius, 308
Aedui in, 5; Ariovistus in, 47; Balbus, Gold coins (aureus), 221
L. C., and, 78; Bibulus in, 97; coin Gonzaga, Francesco, 850 (photo)
and, 375 (photo); Domitius Aheno- Government contractors, 806
barbus, L., in, 297; Germans in, 381; Governors, 684–86
Helvetii in, 395–97; Illyricum and, Gracchus, C. Sempronius, 49, 57, 95,
418; Vercingetorix and, 881 155, 671, 735, 738, 828; citizen-
Gaul/Gallia Comata, 89–93, 377, ship and, 194; colonies and, 227;
378–81, 397, 490, 533, 835; equites and, 327–28; food and, 213,
Aedui in, 5–7; Alesia, siege of, and, 347; Populares and, 668–69
16–19; Ambiorix and, 28–29; Ant- Gracchus, G. Sempronius, 451
ony in, 38; Ariovistus and, 46–48; Gracchus, T. Sempronius, 82, 365,
Belgae in, 83; Cato the Younger 451, 668–69, 670, 735, 768
and, 157–58; Celtic tribes of, 105; Grammaticus, 309
Labienus in, 444; Vercingetorix Grand mal epilepsy, 322–23
and, 876; wars in, 4, 51 Grandest Circus. See Circus Maximus
Gavin, John, 771 Grapes, 347
Gellius Publicola, L., 772–73 The Grass Crown (McCullough), 537
Genetrix, 350 Great Annals (Annales Maximi), 543
Genius, 117 Great Schism of the Catholic Church,
Gens (clan), 571 509
Gentiles, 571 Greaves (ocreae), 49
George III (king), 479 Gregory XIII (pope), 129
Germanic tribes, 381–83, 547. See also Gubernatorial corruption (quaestio de
specific tribes repetundis), 327–28
Germanicus, 208 Guelphs, 274
Germans, 381–84, 547, 631; Aedui Guerrilla warfare, 106, 655, 768
and, 6–7, 382; Alesia, Siege of, and, Gustus (appetizer), 345
17–18; Ariovistus and, 46–48, Gymnasia, 308
382–83; Civil War and, 52; Kaiser Gynaikonitis, 71
and, 596; Marius and, 376, 381;
religion and, 712; Tenth Legion Habsburgs, 595–96
and, 814; Trojans and, 10; Vercin- Hadrian, 432, 644, 784, 789, 875
getorix and, 881 Haines, T. L., 883 (photo)
934
Index
Hamilton, Alexander, 479 Hinds, Ciaran, 392 (photo)

Hamlin, Bill, 346 Hirtius, A., 40, 85, 88–89, 468,
Hannibal (218–202 BCE), 450, 485, 600–605
494, 524, 572; Aedui and, 6; citi- Hispalis-Seville, 227
zenship and, 193–94; in Gaul Hispania Citerior. See Nearer Spain
Transalpine, 376; Second Punic War Hispania Ulterior. See Further Spain
and, 193, 335 Histories (Pollio), 64, 553
Hannibalic War (218–202 BCE), 378 Histories (Sallust), 726
Harmony between the two orders. The History Channel, 33
See Concordia ordinum History of the World (Ridpath),
Harrison, Rex, 207 (photo), 208, 209 501 (photo)
Haruspex, 291, 389, 505 Hohenzollerns, 595
Haruspicy (haruspicium), 389–91, Holidays (feriae), 341
711, 722 Holy Roman Emperor, 596
Hasmon, 430–32 Holy Roman Empire, 378
Hasta (spear), 49 Homer, 8, 11, 12, 485
Hastatus (spearman), 54, 171 Homeschooling, 307
Hastatus posterior (rear spearman), Hometown aristocrats. See Domi nobiles
171 Homosexuality, 96, 162, 398–401,
Hastatus posterior (second spearman), 581–82
171 Honor, 401–5
Hastatus prior (forward spearman), Honor of the kill (victoriae gloriam),
171 384
HBO’s Rome (TV series, 2005–2007), Honores (privileges), 193
391–95, 392 (photo) Horse races, 359–60
Hearth fire (vesta), 883 Hortensius, Q., 45, 154, 606, 868
Heavily armed infantry, 54 Horti (garden estates), 368–69,
Hebrew Scriptures, 483 371–72
Hegesaretos, 827 Horti Caesaris, 171
Helen of Sparta, 873 Horus, 313
Heliopolis, 765 Hostile action against the State. See
Hellanicus of Lesbos, 8 Perduellio
Hellenization, 555 Hostis (public enemy), 257, 266,
Helmet (galea), 52 405–76, 519–20, 679, 796; Cati-
Helvetii (tribe), 6, 46–47, 135, line and, 151; Cinna the Elder as,
395–98, 548, 764; in Bellum Gal- 185–86; gangs and, 365;
licum, 90; in Gaul, 380; gloria belli Lepidus the Triumvir as, 469;
and, 384; Labienus and, 397, 444 Optimates and, 406, 607
Helvius Cinna, C., 191–92, 300 House of the Small Fountain,
Heraclea, 227 708 (photo)
Hercules, 21, 38, 138, 555, 709 House of the Vestal Virgins, 352,
Herding, 14 707
Herod, 203, 206 House of the Vettii, 369 (photo)
Herodotus, 312, 485 House of Venus, 370 (photo)
Heston, Charlton, 751 Hundred Years’ War, 509
Hiarbus, 434 Hunting, 705
Hiempsal II, 433–34 Hunts. See Venationes
935
Index
Hyrcania, 617 Indices (judges), 244

Hyrcanus II, 431 Indirect taxes. See Vectigalia
Indutiomarus, 29, 91, 445
Iberian Peninsula, 766–67 Infantry (pedites), 54
Ides of March, 128, 210, 236, Inhumation, 254
411–17, 468, 900; Antony and, Inner treasury (sanctiore aerario),
39; Brutus, M. J., and, 115, 145; 838
Cassius and, 145; dreams and, 300; Instituta patrum, 477
omens and, 599; sacrifices and, 723 Insubres (tribe), 372, 833
Idus (Ides), 128, 411 Intercalary month, 128–29
Ientaculum (breakfast), 344 Interdictio, 333
Ilerda, Battle of, 172, 459, 769 Interest rates, on loans, 277
Iliad (Homer), 8, 12 Intermarriage, 529
Ilitch, Marian, 60 Interpretatio Romana, 711–12
Ilitch, Michael, 60 Interreges, 714
Illyrian pirates, 3, 417, 634 Interregnum, 491
Illyricum, 417–19, 683; Asinius Pol- Interrex, 282, 491, 714, 736, 797;
lio in, 64; Bibulus in, 97; Cinna the Milo and, 552; patricians and, 620;
Elder in, 187; Dacians and, 271; Senate and, 728
ruins in, 418 (photo) Ionian Sea, 3
Imagines, 330–32, 543–44, 561 Ireland, 104
Immune communities, 805 Iron mines, 831
Immunes (specialists), 456–57 Isis, 198, 202, 315
Impeachment, 419–22 Isthmus of Corinth, 200
Imperator, 422–26, 513, 595, 852 Iudaioi, 429
Imperial Palace, 784–85 Iuniores (junior citizens), 664
Imperium, 282, 364, 490, 654, 686, Iures (rights), 193
797–98, 852; Catulus the Younger Iurisconsulti, 454
and, 165; Cinna the Elder and, 185; Iurisprudentes, 454–55
crossing the Rubicon and, 256; Ius auxilii (right of aid), 514, 674
elections and, 318; extraordinary Ius civile (law applied to citizens),
commands and, 334–35; Lepidus 453
the Elder and, 464; lictors and fas- Ius Latii (Latin rights), 226
ces and, 487; magistrates and, 513; Ius migrandi (right of the immigrant),
provinces and, 683 193
Imperium extra ordinem. See Extraor- Ivan IV “the Terrible,” 715
dinary commands
Imperium infinitum (command with- Janiculum Hill, 849
out borders), 336 Janus, 353, 709
Imperium maius (extensive com- Javelin. See Pilum
mand), 337 Jefferson, Thomas, 479
Impressions Games, 121 Jerome, 724
Imprisonment, 673–74 Jerusalem, Israel, 430 (photo), 756
In Catilinam (Cicero, M.), 148 Jesus of Nazareth, 391, 432; crucifix-
In publico deposuerat (money publicly ion of, 259 (photo)
deposited), 840 Jews, 224, 429–33, 571, 780, 789
936
Index
Johnson, Richard, 750 (photo), 751 Kubrick, Stanley, 249 (photo),

Josephus, 203 770 (photo)
Juba (d. 46 BCE), 390, 433–36, 819,
851 (photo); Civil War and, 486; Labienus (d. 45 BCE), 443–49, 814,
Curio and, 267; Labienus and, 816, 836, 869, 879; Ambiorix and,
447–48; suicide and, 791; Sulla, F., 29, 444–45; camps and, 135; Dyr-
and, 801; Utica and, 863 rachium, Siege of, and, 304; Hel-
Juba II, 206 vetii and, 397, 444; honor and,
Judas, 275 402; imperator and, 423; legions
Judges (indices), 244 and, 458; Munda, Battle of, and,
Jugurtha, 57, 246, 433, 523–25, 564; Pharsalus, Battle of, and, 447,
794–95, 800 632; Rabirius and, 847
Julia (d. 54 BCE), 65, 72, 131, 190, Labor-saving devices, slaves as, 764
436–39, 657, 889, 892; Bona Dea Lacernae, 219
and, 651; eulogy for, 330; games Laelius, Decimus, 109, 869
and, 362; Octavia and, 590–92; in Lake Regillus, Battle of, 810
Subura, 779; tomb of, 139, 255, Land reform, 449–53, 669
562 Lanista, 361
Julia (mother of Atia), 66–67, 71 Laodice, 579
Julii, 873–74 Lararium (shrine), 721
Julius Caesar (film), 143 (photo) Lares, 342, 345, 709
Julius Caesar (Shakespeare). See Lares familiares, 562
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar Larks (Alaudae), 460
Julius Caesar Before and After the Bat- Laticlavia, 217
tle of Pharsalus (48 BCE), 897–98 Latifundiae (estate), 14, 450, 453,
Julius Caesar on the True Causes of the 762
Civil War (49 BCE), 893–94 Latin language, 309
Julius II (pope), 661 Latin rights (ius Latii), 226
Junia, 741 Latin War, 193
Junior citizens (iuniores), 664 Latinus, 9
Juno, 11–12, 138, 141–42, 342, 709, Latus clavus, 326
710 Laudatio funebris, 330
Jupiter, 597, 709, 710, 724, 854; in Laus Julii, 227
Aeneid, 11; Capitoline Hill and, Lavinia, 12
115, 141–42; dreams and, Law. See Debt laws/Loans; Legal pro-
299–300; festivals and, 342; Ides fession; and specific laws
of March and, 411, 413; Law against public violence (lex Luta-
priesthood of, 241 tia de vi), 164–65
Justinian, 528 Law against treason (lex Cornelia de
Juvenal, 669, 780 maiestate), 164
Law applied to citizens (ius civile),
Kaiser, 595–96, 715 453
Kalendae (Kalends), 128 Lawyers. See Advocati
Kerr, Deborah, 753 Leader of the tribe (ethnarch), 431
King (rex), 713–17 Lectisternia, 342
Koine, 308 Lectisternium, 723
937
Index
Legal entities (corpores), 807 Lex Lutatia de vi (law against public

Legal profession, 453–55 violence), 164–65
Legatus, 842 Lex Plotia (Plotian law), 190
Legatus propaetore, 444 Lex Porcia, 155
Leges agraria (land reform laws), 451 Lex provincia, 683, 686
Legio (levied troops), 54 Lex Titia, 470
Legions, 456–61, 456 (photo). Liber Pater, 709
See also specific legions Libera, 709
Lemuria, 563 Liberalia, 342
Lentulus Clodianus, C., 772 Liberators, 146, 237, 591, 593, 717;
Lentulus Crus, L. Cornelius, 520–21, Antony and, 39–41; Cinna the
890; Balbus, L. C., and, 77, 78; cen- Younger and, 191; Lepidus the Tri-
sus and, 169; treasury and, 838–39 umvir and, 468. See also Conspiracy
Lentulus Spinther, P. Cornelius, 239, of the Liberators
298, 689 Libertas/Dominatio, 477–81, 495
Lepidus the Elder (d. 77 BCE), 63, Libertatem rei publicam (Free Repub-
188, 228, 461–66, 591, 593, 748, lic), 480
899, 900, 901; Brutus, M. J., and, Liberti (ex-slaves), 641, 763
110; Cassius and, 146; Catulus the Libo, Scribonius, 99–100, 109, 162
Younger and, 164–65, 335, 366, Librarii or amanuenses (secretaries),
462–63, 465; Cinna the Younger 474
and, 189–90, 192; Conspiracy of 65 Library of Alexandria, 26, 209,
and, 230; exile of, 333; extraordi- 481–84, 482 (photo)
nary commands and, 335; Hirtius Libui (tribe), 372
and, 604; Pompey the Great and, Liburni (tribe), 417–18
654; proscriptions and, 679; SCU Libya/Numidia, 52, 485–86,
and, 464, 736–37; Sextus Pompey 485 (photo), 524–25, 683. See also
and, 745 Juba I; Jugurtha
Lepidus the Triumvir (d. 12 BCE), Licinia, 885
466–73 Lictors/Fasces, 486–89, 487 (photo)
Lepidus the Younger, 39–42, 58, 61, Life of Augustus (Nicolaus of Damas-
115 cus), 898–900
Leptinus, Furius, 361 Life of Caesar (Plutarch), 643, 645,
Leptis Magna, 485 (photo) 789
Lesbia, 160 Light-armed skirmishers. See Velites
A Letter from Caesar Regarding His Lighthouse of Alexandria, 24
Campaign of “Kindness and Gener- Lingones (tribe), 372
osity” (ca. March 10, 49 BCE), 895 Linnell, W., 104 (photo)
Letters (epistulae), 472–77; coded, Litaviccus, 7
475 Litterator, 309
Letters to Friends (Tiro), 475 Little Caesar (film, 1931), 284
Levied troops (legio), 54 Little Caesar’s Pizza, 60
Lex agraria, 452 Lives (Plutarch). See Plutarch’s
Lex Clodia, 348 Lives
Lex Cornelia de maiestate (law against Lives of the Caesar (Suetonius),
treason), 164 784 (photo)
938
Index
Lives of the Twelve Caesars (Suetonius), Lupercal, 501

785 Lupercalia (festival), 39, 501–3,
Livia, 192, 740, 747 501 (photo), 716, 751–52, 788
Livy, 9, 31, 648, 667, 873 Lusitani (tribe), 422
Lloyd, Phyllida, 752 Lusitanians, 768
Loans, 276–80 Lustrations, 504–6, 721
Local treasuries (fisci), 221, 684
Locum honoris, 402 MacArthur, Douglas, 33–35,
Longinus, C. Cassius. See Cassius 34 (photo)
Longuyon, Jacques de, 403 Maccabaean Revolt, 430
Lorica (breastplate), 49, 52 Maccari, Cesare, 149 (photo)
Lorica gallica (chainmail coats), 52 Macedonia, 181, 271, 630, 683,
Lorica hamata (chainmail coats), 52 826–27
Luca, 261, 294, 489–92, 489 (photo) Machaira (sword), 49
Lucan, 159 Machiavelli’s The Prince, 509–12,
Lucan’s Pharsalia, 492–96 510 (photo)
Lucceius, L., 94, 786, 857 Maelius, Spurius, 113
Lucterius, 878 Magic, 711
Lucullus (118–57 BCE), 154–55, 166, Magister Equitum (Master of Horse),
496–500, 582, 757, 786, 799, 468
852; Bibulus and, 95; Clodius and, Magistrates/Cursus Honorum, 98,
211–12, 499; equites and, 329; 152, 512–17, 798; army and, 54;
extraordinary commands and, 336; auspices and, 597–98; Cassius as,
gardens and, 368; gardens of, 145; clothing of, 218; coercitio and,
370–71; gloria and, 385; memoirs 364; courts and, 244–46; elections
and, 544; military discipline and, and, 317–19; extraordinary com-
547; Mithradates VI, 497–500, mands and, 334–35; gangs and,
557–58; Optimates and, 500; piracy 367; haruspicy and, 389; impeach-
and, 635; Pompey the Great and, ment and, 420; memoirs and, 542;
498, 656; as Pontifex Maximus, 663 nobiles and, 732; provinces and,
Ludi (games), 359 684; public works and, 695, 697;
Ludi Apollinares (festival), 342 SCU and, 464, 735; Senate and, 95,
Ludi Ceriales (festival), 341 512–16. See also Praetors; Quaestors
Ludi circenses (games of the circus), Magius, N., 895
359, 360 (photo), 444 Magna Mater, 342
Ludi Florales (festival), 341 Magno in honore, 403
Ludi magister (game master), 309 Mago, 14
Ludi Megalenses (festival), 342 Maiestas (treason), 246, 248,
Ludi Plebeii (festival), 342 846
Ludi Romani (festival), 342, 823 Main road (via principalis), 135
Ludi scaenici (stage games), 823 Maior potestas (superseding power),
Ludus Latrunculorom (game), 704 514–15
Lugh, 712 Mamillare, 215–16
Lunar cycles, 127 Mamurra, 161–62
Lunch (prandium), 344 Manceps, 806–7
Lupa (she-wolf), 501 Manchester, William, 33–35
939
Index
Mandubii (tribe), 16 Marsyas, 354

Mandubracius, 107 Martial, 780
Manilius, C., 500 Marullus, C., 191, 716
Manipuli (bundles), 456 Mason, James, 143 (photo), 751
Mankiewicz, Joseph L., 750 Mass graves (puticuli), 562
Manlius, 151 Massilia, Siege of (49 BCE), 533–37,
Mantegna, Andrea, 850 (photo) 577–78
Manus marriage, 529–30 Massinissa, 433, 486
Marcellinus, Lentulus, 303, 551 Master of Horse (Magister Equitum),
Marcellus, C. Claudius, 265, 266, 468
406, 517–22, 589, 835 Masters of Rome (McCullough, books
Marcellus, M. Claudius, 517–22 1990–2007), 537–39
Marcellus Cousins, 517–522 Mathematics, 310, 313
Marcia, 72 Matius, C., 124
Marian monuments, 670 Matronalia, 342
Marius (ca. 157–86 BCE), 69, 241, McCullough, Colleen, 537–39
282, 405, 433–34, 465, 522–28, McDowall, Roddy, 209
669, 732, 776, 894; ambitus and, Meats, 345
31; armor and, 49, 51; army and, Medea, 494
54–55, 57–58; biography of, 601; Medici, Cosimo de, 511
Catulus the Younger and, 164, 167, Medici, Lorenzo de, 509
608; Cicero, M., and, 176; coin of, Medicine, 313
222; colonies and, 227; Crassus and, Mediterranean basin, climate of, 14
248; dignitas and, 286–87; equites Mediterranean Sea, 540–42,
and, 327–28; exile of, 333; gangs 540 (photo), 574
and, 365–66; Germans and, 376, Meeting of the Plebeians. See Concil-
381; gloria and, 385; imagines of, ium Plebis
331; as imperator, 423; land reform Melqart, 21
and, 451; legions and, 457; military Memmius, 293, 852
discipline and, 546; painting of, Memoirs, 542–46, 676. See also
523 (photo); as patrician, 620; specific memoirs
Plutarch on, 646; Rabirius and, 846; Menander, 257
Saturninus and, 525–26, 735; Sulla, Menapii (tribe), 30
L. C., and, 184–86, 496, 525, 527, Merchants, 223, 831–32
794–95 Mercifulness. See Clementia
Marius the Younger, 187 Mercury, 712
Marriage/divorce, 528–33; aristoc- Mesopotamia, 203, 618
racy and, 131, 532; conubium (right Messala Niger, M. Valerius, 491
to marry legally), 193, 529; mixed, Metellus, L. Caecilius, 330, 839
619; remarriage, 531–32 Metellus, Q. Caecilius, 523–24, 636
Mars, 290, 411, 707, 709, 780, 873; Metellus Celer, Q. Caecilius, 375,
fresco of, 216 (photo); games and, 532, 841, 849, 856–57
359; lustrations and, 504–5. See also Metellus Nepos, Q. Caecilius, 156,
Campus Martius 178, 420–21, 490, 731
Marsilio of Padua (1275–1342 CE), Metellus Pius, Q., 251, 385, 558,
274 630–32; Cinna the Elder and, 187;
940
Index
death of, 660; as Optimate, 606; Months, 127–28, 411

Pompey the Great and, 654–55; Morbus comitialis, 322
Sertorius and, 335, 654–55 Mors voluntaria. See Suicide
Metellus Scipio, 298, 390, 520, 657, Mos maiorum, 477, 733
677, 843, 863; Balbus, L. C., and, Mosaic calendars, 127 (photo)
78; Cato the Younger and, 434; Mourning/funerals, 559–64,
Hirtius and, 602; imperator and, 560 (photo)
425; Juba I and, 435; Ninth Legion Mucia Tertia, 531, 532, 747
and, 460; suicide of, 822; Thapsus, Muli Mariani (Marius’s mules), 55
Battle of, and, 174, 448, 630–32, Munda, Battle of (45 BCE), 158, 448,
800, 818–21, 822; in Thessaly, 457, 564–67, 745, 817
827–28 Munera (duties), 193, 359, 361
Michelangelo, 661 Murder (sicariis), 246
Middle Kingdom Period, 313 Murena, L. Licinius, 557
Migration, 452 Museum of Alexandria, 482
Military cloak (paludamentum), 218 Museum of Antiquities (Yaggy and
Military discipline, 546–50 Haines), 883 (photo)
Milites (soldiers), 456 Mutina, Battle of, 40
Milo (d. 48 BCE), 225, 367, 550–54, Mutual burial society (collegium
811; Clodius and, 213–15, 248, funebris), 562
333, 550–52; exile of, 333; Sallust
and, 725; Triumvirate and, 858–59 Nabis of Sparta, 509
Minerva, 141, 709, 712; festivals and, Naevius, 9, 823
341–42; lustrations and, 504 Names, 571–74
Missing sword, of Caesar, 878 Napoleon Bonaparte, 596
Mistresses, 739 Narmer, 313
Mithradates of Pergamum, 27, 627, Nasidius, 535
694 Natale di Roma, 456 (photo)
Mithradates V, 555 Nationalism, Celtic, 5
Mithradates VI, 187, 252, 405, Navy/ships, 574–79
554–59, 656, 795, 796, 822; Catu- Nearer Spain, 63, 165, 376, 683; Lep-
lus the Younger and, 166; Clodius idus the Triumvir in, 469; Lepidus
and, 211; extraordinary commands the Younger in, 40; Sextus Pompey
and, 336; Lucullus and, 497–500, in, 745
557–58; Marius and, 526; Nicome- Nemausus, 227
des and, 579–81; Pharnaces and, Nenia (dirge), 560
625–26; piracy and, 635 Neolithic era, 3
Mithras, 711 Neoterics, 159–60, 161, 162
Mixed marriages, 619 Neptune, 138, 540, 746
Money. See Coinage/money; Nero, 492–93, 495, 787
Treasury Nerva, 781
Money holders. See Argentarii Nervii (tribe), 343, 444, 458, 759,
Money publicly deposited (in publico 814; Ambiorix and, 29; Belgae and,
deposuerat), 840 83–84, 380; centurions and, 173;
Moneychanger. See Nummularius Cicero, Q., and, 182–83
Money-lenders. See Faeneratores New Kingdom Period, 313
941
Index
New man. See Novus homo C., and, 521; Pompey the Great
New poets (poetae novae), 159 and, 438; in Rome (TV series),
Nexum (debt-slavery), 761–62 393–94
Nicolaus of Damascus, 126, 898–900 Octavia the Elder, 66
Nicomedes (d. 75/74 BCE), Octavia the Younger, 66
399–400, 555, 558, 575, 579–82 Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE),
Nicomedes III Euergetes, 555–56, 579 61, 184, 262, 538, 589, 591–97,
Nile River, 312–13, 312 (photo) 717, 836; Aeneas and, 10; Alex-
Nine Muses, 482 ander the Great and, 22; Antony
Ninth Legion, 814; Dyrrachium, and, 40–43, 591, 592; Atia and,
Siege of, and, 303; Metellus Scipio 65–68, 591–92; Balbus, L. C., and,
and, 460; military discipline and, 80; Basilica Julia and, 81 (photo);
548; Pharsalus, Battle of, and, Caesarion and, 124–26; Cassius
459–60 and, 146–47; Cicero, M., and, 180;
Nobiles (notable ones), 730, 732, 733 Cinna the Younger and, 192; in
Nobilitas (nobility), 320 Cleopatra (film), 209; Cleopatra
Nomen gentilicium, 571, 573 and, 203–5; coin of, 289 (photo),
Nomenclatores, 321 588 (photo); Conspirators and,
Nomina, 571 116; Danians and, 272; as dicta-
Nonae (Nones), 128 tor, 285; Divus Iulius and, 291–92;
Nonsense poetry (nugae), 162 Egyptians and, 317; extraordinary
North Africa, 33, 41, 434, 599, 744, commands and, 337; Forum Iulium
778; agriculture in, 14–15; Cato the and, 350; as imperator, 425–26;
Younger in, 158; Cinna the Elder in Julius Caesar, 755; Lepidus the
and, 186; colonies in, 227–28; Triumvir and, 469, 471; Nicolaus
Curio and, 62–63; gloria and, 385; of Damascus on, 898–900; Parthia
Labienus in, 448; land reform in, and, 619; as prosecutor, 244; public
452; legions in, 460; Mediterranean works and, 699; in Rome (TV series),
Sea and, 540 391; Sextus Pompey and, 746–47;
Notable ones (nobiles), 730, 732, 733 statue of, 659 (photo); Suetonius
Novus homo (new man), 77, 80, 177, on, 901; Vatinius and, 870–71; ven-
523, 732, 857 geance of, 901; Virgil and, 64
Nugae (nonsense poetry), 162 Octavius, Cn., 185
Numa Pompilius, 706, 728, 883 October horse. See Equus October
Numidia. See Libya/Numidia The October Horse (McCullough), 538
Numina (spirits), 708 Odyssey (Homer), 11
Nummularius (moneychanger), 222, Officio imperatoris, 423
829 (photo), 831 Officium (right to hold public office),
Nundinae, 829 193
Officium imperatori et rei publicae,
Obnuntiatio, 452 423
Ocean, 585–87 Old Kingdom Period, 313
Ocreae (greaves), 49 Old Shops (Tabernae Veteres), 82
Octavia (ca. 69–11 BCE), 131, 573, Old Testament, 23
587–91, 593, 748; Antony and, Olive oil, 347
202; Julia and, 590–92; Marcellus, Olives, 347; fields, 13 (photo)
942
Index
Olivier, Laurence, 249 (photo) Palazzo Senatorio, 141

Olympic Games, 502 Palla, 219
Omens, 597–600, 598 (photo) Palladio, Andrea, 818 (photo)
Open-air gardens (peristyle), 368 Paludamentum (military cloak), 218
Opimius, L., 735 Pansa, C. Vibius, 40, 603–5
Oppian, 779 PANSTARRS telescopic camera
Oppida, 758, 880 system, 598 (photo)
Oppius and Hirtius, 124–25, Papacy, 274
600–605, 676, 895, 900 Papal States, 510
Ops, 707 Papirius Carbo, Cn., 187
Optimates, 70, 154, 605–10, 646, Papyrus, 473
675, 737–38; Bibulus and, 94–98; Par potestas (equalizing power), 514
Cato the Younger and, 155, 158; Parentalia (festival), 563
Catulus the Younger as, 163, 166, Parenti Patriae, 291–92
606; Cicero, M., and, 178; Clo- Parilia (festival), 885
dius and, 102–3, 211, 214; crossing Paris of Troy, 873
the Rubicon and, 257; Curio and, Parisii (tribe), 446
262–65; Domitius Ahenobarbus, Parma (shield), 49
L., and, 293, 295; extraordinary Parthia, 271, 413, 468, 617–19, 716,
commands and, 336; hostis and, 778; Alexander the Great and, 21,
406, 607; Lucullus and, 500; Mar- 617; Antony and, 42, 593, 748;
cellus, M., and, 517; Milo and, 553; Cassius and, 143–44, 618; Crassus
obstructionism and, 315; Pompey and, 253, 385, 585, 618; Jews in,
the Great and, 654, 657; Populares 431–32; Pompey the Great and,
and, 606–7, 668, 670–71; Triumvi- 656; Tigranes and, 558
rate and, 856, 857 Parthian War, 42, 618
Oracle of Delphi, 11 Pastores (shepherds), 13–14
Orange Julius, 346 Patres (elders), 620, 728, 729
Oratory, 611–14 Patres et Conscripti, 729
Ordo senatoriale, 732 Patria potestas, 307
Orgetorix, 396 Patricians, 619–21, 709, 729
Orosius, 851 Patrons and clients, 621–25; of
Osiris, 202, 291, 313 collegia, 224–25; plebs and, 639
Otho, 162 Paullus, L. Aemilius, 470, 519, 805
Ottoman Empire, 582 Pax deorum, 709
Pax Romana, 596
Pact of Brundisium, 42, 471, 747 Peculatus (embezzlement), 246
Pactiones (state contracts), 830–31 Pecunia (money), 220
Pacuvius, 561, 823 Pecunia publica (public money), 840
Paedagogue (chaperone), 311 Pecuniam ex publico (funds from the
Paenula (cloak), 218 public), 840
Paideia, 308 Pecus (sheep flocks), 219
Palatine Hills, 140, 351, 501, 551, Pedarii, 730
779, 829 Pedites (infantry), 54
Palazzo dei Conservatori, 141 Pedius, Q., 72, 565, 746
Palazzo Nuovo, 141 Peloponnesus, 644
943
Index
Penates, 709 Philippics, 40

Pera, D. Iunius, 361 Philippus, L. Marcius, 70, 464, 736,
Perduellio (hostile action against the 800, 899–900; Atia and, 66–67;
State), 246, 846–48 Octavia and, 589; Octavian-
Peristyle (open-air gardens), 368 Augustus and, 591–92
Permanent court (quaestio perpetua), Philosophy, 110
31 Phoenicians, 585
Persia, 203, 252, 314, 617–18 Phthians, 628
Persuasive advice (suasoria), 611 Pillars of Hercules, 540
Petasus, 219 Pilleus, 219
Petit mal epilepsy, 322 Pilum (javelin), 50–51, 50 (photo),
Petreius, 134, 424, 447, 768–69, 791, 54
827 Pilus posterior (rear javelin man), 171
Petronius, M., 172 Pilus prior (forward javelin man), 171
Petrosidius, L., 777, 790–91 Pinarius, L., 72
Pets, 703 Pincio Gardens, 171
Phalanx (fight formation), 54 Piracy, 259–60, 287, 634–38, 673;
Pharnaces (d. 47 BCE), 458, 558, Illyricum and, 3, 417, 634; slavery
625–28 and, 634, 762
Pharos of Alexandria, 24 Pirustae (tribe), 418
Pharsalia (Lucan). See Lucan’s Piso, C. Calpurnius, 32, 726, 886
Pharsalia Piso, Cn. Calpurnius, 230–32
Pharsalus, Battle of, 316, 349, 541, Piso, L. Calpurnius, 130–31
578, 628–33, 691, 800, 818, 828, Piso, M., 189
836, 863, 897–98; Antony and, Piso Frugi, L. Calpurnius, 245–46,
38; Appian on, 895–97; Asinius 248
Pollio and, 63; Brutus, M. J., and, Plaetorius Cestianus, L., 412 (photo)
113–14; camps and, 136; Cassius Plancus, L. Munatius, 63
and, 144, 630; Cicero, M., and, Planet of the Apes (films), 764
180; Cicero, Q., and, 183; clemen- Plato, 309, 522, 792
tia and, 681; in Cleopatra (film), Platonic Academy, 110, 522
208; dignitas and, 288; Domitius Plautus, 824
Ahenobarbus, L., and, 298; dreams Plebeian Assembly, 157, 245–46,
and, 299; First Legion and, 457; 320; Cicero, M., and, 179, 212–13;
Fortuna and, 5; haruspicy and, exiles and, 190; lex Porcia and, 155
389; imperator and, 424; Labi- Plebs (commoners), 638–43
enus and, 447, 632; libertas and, Pliny the Elder, 70, 330
478; lustrations and, 505; Ninth Pliny the Younger, 784
Legion and, 459–60; omens and, Plotian law (lex Plotia), 190
599; Pharnaces and, 626; Pom- Plotius, 189–90
pey the Great and, 24, 136; suicide Ploughshares (aratrum), 14
and, 791; Tenth Legion and, 815; Plutarch, 61, 71, 136, 585, 612,
Vatinius and, 869–70; Venus Gen- 717, 726, 740, 741, 789, 878;
etrix and, 874 on Alexander the Great, 21–22;
Philip of Macedon, 509, 757, on Bona Dea, 101, 647; on Bru-
826 tus, M. J., 113; calendar and, 129;
944
Index
on Calpurnia, 132; on Cassius, Pompey (106–48 BCE), 58, 94, 131,

234; Cato the Younger and, 646, 173, 335, 517, 648, 652–59, 895;
792; Cleopatra (film) and, 207; Adriatic Sea and, 3; Alexander the
on crossing the Rubicon, 257; on Great and, 20–22; Alexandrian War
debt, 278; dreams and, 299; on and, 24–25; Antony and, 38; Asin-
epilepsy, 323; genius and, 117; on ius Pollio and, 62–63; Balbus, L.
Ides of March, 413, 415; on Labi- C., and, 77–78; in Bellum Civile,
enus, 444; on letters, 474; Luper- 87; Bibulus and, 96–98; Brundi-
calia and, 503; lustrations and, 505; sium and, 108–9; Brutus, M. J.,
McCullough and, 538; on Munda, and, 113; burial of, 563; bust of,
Battle of, 566; omens and, 599; 652 (photo); on Caesar, 677; camps
piracy and, 637; popularity of, 646; and, 136; Cassius Dio on, 894;
portrait of, 644 (photo); on Sparta- Cato the Younger and, 156; Catu-
cus, 771, 773; on Theater of Pom- lus the Younger and, 165–66, 654;
pey, 822; on Vercingetorix, 881 Cicero, M., and, 178–79, 657; Civil
Plutarch’s Lives, 643–50 War and, 894; courts and, 247;
Poem 11 (Catullus), 161 Crassus and, 251, 655–56; Curio
Poem 29 (Catullus), 161 and, 266; Domitius Ahenobarbus,
Poem 54 (Catullus), 162 L., and, 296; Dyrrachium siege and,
Poem 57 (Catullus), 162 301–4; food and, 348; glory and,
Poem 93 (Catullus), 162 385; Illyricum and, 418–19; imper-
Poetae novae (new poets), 159 ator and, 425; Julia and, 437–38;
Poetry, 159–63; The Divine Comedy, Labienus and, 444, 447; land
272–75; epic, 160; nugae (non- reform and, 451; Lepidus the
sense), 162; Pharsalia, 492–96 Elder and, 462; in Luca, 490–92;
Poisoning (veneficiis), 246 Lucullus and, 498, 656; Oppius
Police forces, 368 and, 601–2; Pharnaces and, 626;
Politeumata, 429 Pharsalus, Battle of, and, 896–97;
Pollux, 94, 95, 291, 709, 810. See also piracy and, 637; propaganda and,
Temple of Castor and Pollux 675–76; Ptolemy XII and, 688;
Polybius, 56, 644 Ptolemy XIII and, 692; remarriage
Pomerium (sacred trench), 134, of, 531–32; in Rome (TV series),
137–38, 139, 552, 561, 852 392; state revenues and, 837; taxes
Pompeia/“Caesar’s Wife,” 192, 287, and, 807–8; Triumvirate and,
650–52, 747, 799, 801; Aurelia 855
and, 71–72; Bona Dea and, 101–3; Pompey the Younger, 565
Plutarch on, 647; Pompey the Great Pontes (bridges), 412
and, 130, 131; in Subura, 779 Pontifex Maximus, 72, 278, 287,
Pompeius, Cn., 564–66 298, 607, 659–63, 710, 786;
Pompeius, S., 564–66 Annales Maximi and, 543; cal-
Pompeius Magnus, Cn., 165 endar and, 127, 129; Catulus the
Pompeius Rufus, Q., 650, 796 Younger and, 167; Clodius and,
Pompeius Strabo, 176, 443, 653, 212; Domus Publica and, 414, 436;
834 honor and, 402; Labienus and,
Pompeius Strabo, C., 186 444; Lepidus the Triumvir and,
Pompeius Strabo, Cn., 326, 461 469; Regia and, 352, 706; statue of
945
Index
Octavian-Augustus as, 659 (photo); Praenomen, 572–73

Vestal Virgins and, 884 Praetor peregrinus, 145
Pontifices, 543, 660, 663, 710; Aure- Praetor urbanus, 144
lian family and, 70–71; calendar Praetorium (commander’s tent), 135
and, 127; Vestal Virgins and, 884 Praetors, 69, 101, 167, 420, 516,
Pontus, 227, 499–500, 580, 683, 664; Catiline as, 149, 230; cen-
807. See also Mithradates VI of sus and, 169; Cinna the Younger
Pontus as, 190–91; courts and, 245, 247;
Popillia, 164 Domitius Ahenobarbus, L., as, 293;
Popular Assemblies, 285, 294, 518, elections and, 318, 320; law and,
593, 639, 663–67, 686, 697, 733; 454; peregrine, 513; urban, 513
ambitus and, 31; army and, 56; Prandium (lunch), 344
auspices and, 598; citizenship and, Prejudice, against slaves, 763
195; elections and, 318, 320; Gaul Primipilus, 815
Cisalpine and, 372; Gaul Transal- Primus pilus (first javelin man),
pine and, 374; imperator and, 422; 171–73, 175
Labienus and, 443; magistrates and, The Prince (Machiavelli). See Machia-
513, 515; marriage and, 528; per- velli’s The Prince
duellio and, 847; Populares and, Princeps (chief), 171, 591, 595
668–69; Principate and, 595; riots Princeps posterior (rear chief), 171
in, 365; statutes of, 453; trade and, Princeps posterior (second chief), 171
831; vis and, 367; voting in, 190 Princeps prior (forward chief), 171
Populares, 82, 94–95, 331, 640, Principate, 595
667–73, 779, 828; Cato the Principes (front-liners), 54, 730
Younger and, 155, 671; Curio and, Prison, 673–75
263, 265; debt laws and, 280; Opti- Private schools, 308–9
mates and, 606–7, 668, 670–71; Privileges (honores), 193
Plutarch on, 646; Rabirius and, Pro praetore, 592
849; Senate and, 670, 797; Sulla, Pro Sulla (Cicero, M.), 232
L. C., and, 793 Proconsular imperium, 179
Populi, 282 Professional mourners (praeficiae),
Porcia, 115, 753 560
Porridge (puls), 346 Prohibition of water and fire (aquae et
Portents, 599 igni interdictio), 332
Porticus Aemilia, 832 Proletarii, 642, 665
Porticus Metella, 349 Propaganda, 675–78
Porticus Minucia, 348 Prorogation, 684
Porticus Octaviae, 349 Proscriptions, 678–82
Poseidon, 540 Provinces, 683–87. See also specific
Potestas (power), 478, 624 provinces
Pothinus the Chamberlain, 692, Provocatio (right to appeal in court),
693 193, 244, 364, 515, 738
Power: maior potestas, 514–15; par Ptolemy I, 21, 481–82
potestas, 514; potestas, 478, 624 Ptolemy II, 482
Praefectus fabrum, 56 Ptolemy IX, 687–88
Praeficiae (professional mourners), Ptolemy of Cyprus, 112
560 Ptolemy Philadelphus, 202, 206
946
Index
Ptolemy X, 198, 688 Quaestio extraordinaria, 553

Ptolemy XI, 112, 157, 198 Quaestio perpetua (permanent court),
Ptolemy XII Auletes (d. 51 BCE), 197, 31
316, 687–91, 839 Quaestors (financial officers), 21,
Ptolemy XIII (d. 47 BCE), 85, 483, 513–14, 516, 685; army and, 56;
658, 691–95, 743; Alexandrian Balbus, L. C., as, 79; Brutus, M. J.,
War and, 25, 27; Arsinoë and, as, 112; Cato the Younger as,
693–94; in Cleopatra (film), 208; 154–55; Cicero, M., as, 177; Curio
Cleopatra and, 197, 199–200, as, 263; elections and, 318; Sallust
691–92 as, 725
Ptolemy XIV, 200, 694 Quindecemviri sacris faciundis,
Ptolemy XV, 123, 131, 200 711
Public enemy. See Hostis Quinquatrus (festival), 311, 341,
Public horse (equo publico), 325 504–5
Public land (ager publicus), 449–50, Quinqueremes, 576
805, 807 Quintilian, 724
Public libraries, 787 Quirinal Hill, 140, 370, 779
Public money (pecunia publica), 840 Quirinus, 290, 709
Public violence (vis), 246, 367, 868
Public works, 695–700 Rabirius, C., 443, 738–39; trial of,
Publicani, 608, 806–7; Alexandrian 845–49
War and, 25; Cato the Younger and, Ramses XI, 314
156; equites and, 328; Lucullus and, Raphael, 661
499; Senate and, 555, 808; trade Re, 313
and, 830–31; Triumvirate and, The Reaction of Octavian and His
856–57 Family to Caesar’s Assassination
Publius, 295 (44 BCE) in Nicolaus of Damascus’s
Pulcher, App. Claudius, 211 Life of Augustus, 898–900
Pulcher, P. Claudius. See Clodius Rear chief (princeps posterior), 171
Pullo, 392 Rear javelin man (pilus posterior),
Puls (porridge), 346 171
Pulvinares, 342 Rear spearman (hastatus posterior),
Punishments, 247, 250; in army, 171
55; crucifixion as, 258–60, Rebibbia Prison, 752
259 (photo); exile as, 332–33; Recognitio, 325
lictors and, 487–88; prison and, Record of Achievements (Res Gestae),
673–74; of slave, 761 (photo); 480
of Vestal Virgins, 885 Recreation, 703–6
Pupius, L., 172 Regia, 352, 706–8
Purification rituals, 504–5, 721 Religion, Roman, 290–91, 708–13;
Puticuli (mass graves), 562 festivals and, 712; law and, 453.
Pyramids of Giza, 315 See also specific religions
Pyrrhus of Epirus, 509 Reliquorum imperatorum, 424
Pytheas of Massilia, 104 Remarriage, 531–32
Remi (tribe), 83
Quaestio de repetundis (gubernatorial Remus, 810
corruption), 327–28 Repetundae, 245–46, 248
947
Index
Repudium (expulsion), 531 Rural plebs, 640, 642

Res Gestae (Record of Achievements), Rutilius Rufus, P., 525, 544–45
480
Res Gestae Divi Augusti (Achievements Sabina, 875
of the Divine Augustus), 543 Sabinus, Calvisius, 630
Res publica, 729 Sabinus, Q. Titurius, 28–29, 171–72,
Rex, 713–18 445, 563, 790
Rex bibendi (drinking king), 346 Sacerdotes, 709
Rex sacrorum, 710, 714 Sacravienses, 359
Rhetor, 309 Sacred trench. See Pomerium
Rhetoric, 611–14 Sacred Way. See Via Sacra
Rhodes, 44–45 Sacrifices, 389–90, 721–24, 854;
Rhodon, 125 bloodless, 721; Lupercalia and,
Ridpath, J. C., 501 (photo) 501; lustrations and, 504
Rigg, Diana, 753 Saepta Iulia, 138, 697
Right of aid. See Ius auxilii Sagittae (arrows), 53
Right of the immigrant (ius migrandi), Sagittarii (archers), 52
193 Sallust (86–ca. 35 BCE), 424, 426,
Right to appeal in court. See 724–28; on Catiline, 148, 151,
Provocatio 152–53; on Conspiracy of 65,
Right to hold public office (officium), 230–32, 890–91; gardens and, 368,
193 370; on gloria, 385; Lepidus the
Right to marry legally. See Conubium Elder and, 462; proletariat and, 451;
Right to trade legally (commercium), Thapsus, Battle of, and, 821; on vir-
193 tus, 404. See also specific works
Right to vote (suffragium), 193 Salluvii (tribe), 376
Rights (iures), 193 Salui (tribe), 372
Rites of passage, 342–43 Salutatio, 414
Rituals: of mourning and funerals, Samnites, 51, 361
559–60; of purification, 504–5, Sanctiore aerario (inner treasury),
721. See also Sacrifices 838
Robards, Jason, 750 (photo), 751 Sandals (soleae), 218
Robinson, Edward G., 284 Santayana, George, 394
Roman territory (ager Romanus), Sappho, 160
226 Sarcophagus, 254 (photo)
Romanorum Imperator, 596 Sardinia, 248, 434, 452, 683, 684;
Romanovs, 596 Cicero, Q., in, 181; Sextus Pompey
Romantic love, 160 and, 747; taxes in, 806
Rome (HBO series). See HBO’s Saturnalia (festival), 152, 311, 341,
Rome 354, 703
Romulus, 713, 810 Saturninus, L. Appuleius, 246,
Rosaria (festival), 563 669–70, 848–49; citizenship and,
Roscillus, 403 194; colonies and, 227; gangs and,
Roscius of Ameria, 177 365–66; Marius and, 525–26, 735;
Rostra, 353, 681, 716 Rabirius and, 846; SCU and, 443,
Roucillus, 303 735–36
948
Index
Sayings: about Caesar, 677; from collegia and, 225; Conspiracy of 65

Caesar, 612–13 and, 231; Crassus and, 251; Curia
Scaeva, 174–75, 848 and, 261–62; Curio and, 265–66;
Scaevola, Q. Mucius, 454 dictator and, 282–85; Divus Iulius
Scandilius, P., 328 and, 292; Domitius Ahenobarbus,
Schola, 225, 309 L., and, 294–95; Egyptians and,
Scipio, P. Cornelius, 335 315, 317; equites and, 325–26; exile
Scipio Aemilianus, 49, 768 and, 332; extraordinary commands
Scipio Africanus, 57, 335, 572, 601; and, 334–35, 337; as faction, 653;
cohorts and, 54, 524; Massinissa festivals and, 343; freedmen and,
and, 433; in The Prince, 511 763; games and, 362; gangs and,
SCU. See Senatus consultum ultimum 367; Gaul Cisalpine and, 373–75,
Scutum (shield), 51 834; honor and, 404; Ides of March
Seasonings, 347 and, 413–14; Illyricum and, 418;
Second chief (princeps posterior), impeachment and, 420–21; inter-
171 regnum and, 491; interrex and, 728;
Second Legion, 457 land reform and, 451–52, 669; lati-
Second Mithradatic War (83–81 BCE), fundiae and, 14; Lepidus the Elder
557, 575 and, 463–64; Lepidus the Triumvir
Second Punic War, 77, 193, 335, 378, and, 469–70; letters and, 473, 476;
457, 490, 524 Liberators and, 39; lictors/fasces
Second spearman (hastatus posterior), and, 488; magistrates and, 95,
171 512–16; Marcellus cousins and,
Second Triumvirate, 41, 64, 201, 593, 518–19; Marius and, 526–27;
746 Mithradates VI and, 556; Nico-
Second-class citizens. See Socii medes and, 580, 582; Octavian-
Secretaries (librarii or amanuenses), Augustus and, 68; Oppius and, 601;
474 oratory and, 611, 614; patricians
Secunda mensa (dessert), 345 and, 620; Populares and, 670, 797;
Seditio (attempted overthrow of the Principate and, 595; propaganda
State), 246 and, 677; provinces and, 684; pub-
Segobriges (tribe), 533 licani and, 555, 808; resolutions
Seleucid dynasty, 430, 617, 656 in, 518; rex and, 715; sacrifices and,
Self-help, 364–65, 454 724; Sallust and, 726; Saturninus
Self-worth. See Dignitas and, 365–66; slavery and, 765; soci-
Senate, 38, 77, 291, 728–34; Aedui etates publicanorum and, 806; songs
and, 6; Albinus, D. B., and, 603; and, 641; Suebi and, 782; Sulla, L.
ambitus and, 32; Antony and, C., and, 463; theater and, 822, 824.
39–41, 43; Apollonius of Rhodes See also Optimates
and, 45; Asinius Pollio and, 63; Senatus consultum, 730
Bibulus and, 95–96; Catiline and, Senatus consultum ultimum (SCU),
149, 151; Cato the Younger and, 734–39, 800, 848; Catiline and,
156–58; Cicero, M., and, 152, 155, 150; Cicero, M., and, 177–78;
177–78; Cinna the Elder and, Cinna the Elder and, 185, 736–37;
184–87; citizenship and, 195; Clo- Lepidus the Elder and, 464,
dius and, 214; cognomen and, 572; 736–37; Optimates and, 607;
949
Index
Rabirius and, 846; Saturninus and, Sibylline Books, 71, 716

443, 735–36 Sicariis (murder), 246
Seneca, 492 Sicily, 62, 240, 452, 623, 683, 748;
Seniores (senior citizens), 664 Adriatic Sea and, 3; Aeneas in,
Senones (tribe), 372, 446 11; agriculture in, 14; Cato the
Septimius, L., 25, 174 Younger and, 158; Cicero, M., in,
Septuagint, 483 177; Curio and, 267; food in, 346;
Septuagint, 23 legions in, 460; Lepidus the Trium-
Sequani (tribe), 46, 380, 396–97 vir in, 471; ruins in, 698 (photo);
Serapis, 483 volcanism in, 540
Sertorius, 77, 165, 768; Cinna the Siegecraft, 756–60
Younger and, 189–90; exile of, 333; Sierra Entertainment, 121
Lepidus the Elder and, 463, 465; Signa militaria, 54, 775
Metellus Pius and, 335, 654–55; Signifer, 777
Mithradates VI and, 558 Signum, 474
Servilia (d. ca. 42 BCE), 114, 154, 235, Silanus, D. Junius, 110–11, 152,
739–43; Brutus, M. J., and, 110– 726–27, 740–41, 890
11; Cicero, M., and, 742; in Rome Silver, 220–21; mines, 831
(TV series), 393 Silver coins. See Denarius; Sestertius
Servilius Caepio, Q., 110, 437, 740 Simon Maccabeus, 430–31
Servilius Casca, C., 415, 416 Sinope, 227
Servilius Isauricus, 287, 443, 661–62, Sittius, P., 435, 801
843 Sixth Legion, 174, 377, 458
Sestertius (silver coins), 221 Slavery/slaves, 249–50, 311, 760–66;
Sestius, P., 550, 811; Brutus, M. J., agricultural, 15; Crassus and, 766;
and, 113; Clodius and, 213–14, farming and, 450; Jewish, 429;
367; Vatinius and, 867 as labor-saving devices, 764; lib-
Seventh Legion, 106, 458–59, 814 erti (ex-slaves), 641, 763; names
Sex slavery, 398 of, 573–74; nexum (debt-slavery),
Sextus Pompey (67–35 BCE), 41–42, 761–62; piracy and, 634, 762; plebs
63, 743–50, 744 (photo), 901 and, 641; prejudice against, 763;
Sexuality. See Homosexuality punishment of, 761 (photo); sex
Shakespeare, William, 330 slavery, 398
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar (original Slingers (funditores), 53
play and film versions 1953, 1970), Slingshot (tela), 53
117, 750–56, 750 (photo) Sloganism, 477
Shame, 401 Social War (91–87 BCE), 366, 450,
Sheep flocks (pecus), 219 556, 653, 657, 795; Cicero, M.,
Shekels, 429 and, 176; Cinna the Elder and,
Shepherds (pastores), 13–14 184–86; Cinna the Younger and,
She-wolf (lupa), 501 195; citizenship and, 195–96; Gaul
Shields (aspis, parma, scutum), 49, 51 Cisalpine and, 373; Lepidus the
Ships. See Navy/ships Elder and, 461; Lucullus and, 496;
Shoes (calcei), 218 Marius and, 526
Shrine (lararium), 721 Societates, 685
Sibyl, 11 Societates publicanorum, 806
950
Index
Socii (second-class citizens), 193–94, Stoicism, 792

195, 461, 831 Stola, 218
Socrates Chrestos, 580, 792 Strabo, C. Julius Caesar, 164
Sodalicia, 223–25 Strabo Vopiscus, Caesar, 612
Sodalitates, 32, 223–25, 366, 367 Straits of Gibraltar, 540
Solar calendars, 129, 313, 787 Street of the Ropemakers. See Vicus
Soldiers (milites), 456 Jugarius
Soleae (sandals), 218 Strophium, 216
Solinus, C. Iulius, 540 Study-abroad students, 45
Songs, by plebs, 641 Stuprum, 398
Sosigenes, 129 Stylus, 310, 473–74
Spain, 63, 165, 227, 229, 766–69, Suasoria (persuasive advice), 611
767 (photo); Aedui in, 6; Alexan- Subligaculum (undergarments),
der the Great and, 21; Antony and, 215
40; army in, 57; Balbus, L. C., and, Subsistence agriculture, 13
77; Bibulus and, 94; Borgia in, 511; Subura, 779–81
Civil War in, 67; Conspiracy of the Suburani, 359
Liberators and, 231, 233; debt in, Suebi (tribe), 6, 46–47, 380, 382–83,
279–80; extraordinary commands 402, 547, 781–83
and, 335–36; Ilerda, Battle of, in, Suessiones (tribe), 83–84
172, 459; legions in, 457, 459–60; Suetonius (ca. 70–ca. 130 CE), 129,
Lepidus the Triumvir in, 467–69; 132, 241, 324, 747, 783–90; on
Munda, Battle of, in, 564–67; Ser- Aegisthus, 531; on ancestry of Cae-
torian War in, 166. See also Further sar, 889–90; on aspirations of Cae-
Spain; Nearer Spain sar, 889–90; on Bibulus, 96, 100;
Spanish sword ( gladius Hispaniensis), on Caesarion, 124; on Caesar’s
51 physical appearance, 59–61; Cae-
Spanish War, 88, 600 sar’s sayings and, 612–13; on Catu-
Spartacus, 250–51, 765–66 lus the Younger, 162–63; Cleopatra
Spartacus (film, 1960), 249 (photo), (film) and, 207; on clothing,
769–75, 770 (photo) 216–17; on Conspiracy of 65, 232;
Spearman. See Hastatus on Conspiracy of the Liberators,
Spears (doru, hasta), 49 234; on crossing the Rubicon, 257;
Specialists (immunes), 456–57 on crucifixion, 260; on Dacians,
Spirit (anima), 563 271; on debt, 279–80; dreams and,
Spirits (numina), 708 299; on gloria, 385; gloria and,
Sponsalia (betrothal), 528 385; Hirtius and, 600; on Ides of
Sports, 705 March, 411, 414; on Octavian-
Spurinna, 413 Augustus, 901; on public works,
St. Peter’s Basilica, 661 698; on Rabirius, 847–48. See also
Stage games (ludi scaenici), 823 specific works
Standard-bearer. See Aquilifer Suetonius on Caesar’s Ancestry and
Standards, 775–78 Aspirations, 889–90
State contracts (pactiones), 830–31 Suetonius on the Vengeance of
Stesichorus, 8 Octavian-Augustus, 901
Stipendiary communities, 805 Sufficio, 162
951
Index
Suffragium (right to vote), 193 Summa supplicia (aggravated execu-

Suicide, 790–93; of Antony, 205, tion), 260
791; of Brutus, M. J., 791; of Cas- Suo anno, 320
sius, 791; of Cato the Younger, Suovetaurilia, 504–5
791–93, 822, 863; Civil War and, Superseding power (maior potestas),
791; of Cleopatra, 205, 791; Juba I 514–15
and, 791; of Metellus Scipio, 822; Supplicationes (thanksgiving holidays),
Pharsalus, Battle of, and, 791 265, 723
Sulla (ca. 138–78 BCE), 31, 58, 617, Surrender (deditio), 624
650, 653, 660, 670, 793–98, Swords (machaira, ferrum), 49, 51
893, 894, 895; Aurelian family Symposium, 346
and, 69–70; Capitoline Hill and, Synthesis, 341
141; Catiline and, 149–50; Cato Syphax, 433
the Younger and, 155; Catulus the Syria, 227, 429, 431, 618, 807;
Younger and, 163–64; Cicero, Alexandrian War and, 24–25;
M., and, 176; Cinna the Elder Bibulus and, 98; Cassius and,
and, 184–85, 187; Cinna the 144; Crassus and, 252, 491, 585;
Younger and, 189; citizenship extraordinary commands and, 336;
and, 195–96; Clodius and, 211; libraries in, 484; Philippus and, 66
coin of, 223; colonies and, 227;
Conspiracy of 65 and, 230, 232; Tabellarii (couriers), 474
Cornelia and, 241; Crassus and, Tabernae, 255
249–52; Curia and, 261; as dictator, Tabernae Veteres (Old Shops), 82
282–83; dignitas and, 286; drawing Tabularium, 141, 354
of, 794 (photo); gangs and, 366; Tacitus, 67, 71, 163, 480, 724
hostis and, 405; Lepidus the Elder Tarquin kings, 113, 233–35, 405,
and, 462, 464; Lepidus the Trium- 714, 716
vir and, 467; Lucullus and, 496–98; Tarquin the Proud, 728
Marius and, 184–86, 496, 525, Tarquinius Priscus, 728
527, 794–95; in Masters of Rome, Tarraco, 227
537; memoirs and, 544–45; Mithra- Taurini (tribe), 833
dates VI and, 556–57; Nicomedes Taviani, Paolo, 752
and, 581; Optimates and, 607; as Taviani, Vittorio, 752
patrician, 620–21; piracy and, 635; Taxation/tax farming, 194, 279, 284,
Pompey the Great and, 20; pro- 805–8, 806 (photo)
scriptions and, 678–80; Rabirius Taylor, Elizabeth, 207 (photo), 208
and, 847; sicariis and, 246; Venus Team sports, 705
and, 290; Vestal Virgins and, 886 Tegimentum (garment bag), 52
Sulla, Faustus (d. 46 BCE), 496, 747, Tela (slingshot), 53
799–802 Temple Mount, 430 (photo)
Sulla, P., 232, 425 Temple of Artemis, 201
Sulpicius, 405 Temple of Bellona, 851
Sulpicius Rufus, P., 522, 669, 679, Temple of Castor and Pollux, 291,
796; citizenship and, 195; Marius 352, 809–12; Regia and, 707;
and, 527; riot and, 366 ruins of, 809 (photo); transvectio
Sulpicius Rufus, Serv., 518 equitum and, 325
952
Index
Temple of Concord, 354, 726 Theater of Pompey, 641, 822–26

Temple of Hathor, 123 (photo) Theodosius, 432
Temple of Juno Moneta, 141 Theodotus, in Cleopatra (film), 208
Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, Theophanes of Mytilene, 77
142, 562, 846, 853, 854; burning Thermopolium, 344 (photo)
of, 141; as public work, 695, 699; Thermus, M. Minucius, 399, 575
restoration of, 167; sacrifices at, 723 Thessaly, 113, 628, 630–31, 826–28
Temple of Mars, 787 Third Legion, 457, 458
Temple of Saturn, 343, 352 (photo), Third Punic War, 228, 486
513, 831, 837 Third-liners (triarii), 54
Temple of the Divine Julius, 291 Thirteenth Legion, 424, 460
Temple of the Nymphs, 348 Thirtieth Legion, 64, 457
Temple of Venus, 875 Thorax (breastplate), 49
Temple of Vesta, 8, 884 Three-part name (tria nomina),
Temple of Victory, 61 573
Templum, 353 Tiberius, 82, 432, 747, 890
Tencteri (tribe), 382 Tigranes II, 252, 497, 547, 617–18,
Tenth Legion, 459–60, 548, 632, 656; Catulus the Younger and,
812–17, 813 (photo); aquilifer 166; extraordinary commands and,
of, 423; Ariovistus and, 47, 813; 336; Lucullus and, 211, 499–500;
Belgae and, 814; Crastinus and, Mithradates VI and, 558
172; dignitas and, 288; Gallic Wars Tigurini (tribe), 444
and, 288, 815; Germans and, 814; Tilted Mill Entertainment, 121
Labienus and, 444–45; Nervii and, Tiro, 475
84; Pharsalus, Battle of, and, 815, Tirocinium, 307–8, 611
896–97, 898; pillar commemorat- Titurius Sabinas, 790
ing, 812 (photo); Thapsus, Battle Toga, 217–18, 219, 781
of, and, 817 Toga candida, 218
Terence, 824 Toga praetexta, 218, 722
Terentia, 179 Toga pulla, 218
Terentius Culleo, Q., 437 Toga virilis, 145, 218, 343, 415
Tertia, Junia, 144, 742 Topiarii (gardeners), 369
Tesserae, 348 Torquatus, L. Manlius, 230–31
Teuta, 634 Trade, 828–33; commercium (right to
Teutones (tribe), 376, 381, 382, trade legally), 193
525–26 Trajan, 272, 272 (photo), 644, 781,
Thanksgiving holidays. See Supplica- 784, 787, 789
tiones Transhumance pastoralism, 14
Thapsus, Battle of (46 BCE), 486, 713, Transpadane Gauls, 374, 833–37
744, 818–22; Cato the Younger Transpadani, 196, 518–19, 833
and, 158; centurions and, 174; Transtiberim, 171
Metellus Scipio and, 174, 448, Transvectio equitum, 325
630–32, 800, 818–21, 822; Sallust Trastevere, 171
and, 821; scheme of, 818 (photo); Travel, 541
Tenth Legion and, 817 Treason. See Maiestas
Theater of Mytilene, 824 Treasury, 837–41
953
Index
Treasury of Saturn (aerarium Trophies. See Triumphs/trophies

Saturni), 837–40 Trousers (bracae), 217
Treaty of Misenum, 42, 747 Troy, 8–10
Trebonius (d. 43 BCE), 446, 491, Tsar, 715
534, 535, 536, 841–45; Afranius Tufa, 838
and, 841; Antony and, 39, 415, Tullia, 179, 290
843–45; Cato the Younger and, Tullus, L. Vulcatius, 230
157; Civil War and, 842–43; Con- Tullus Hostilius, 261, 728
spiracy of the Liberators and, 236; Tunica (tunic), 215–17, 326
death of, 845; Dolabella, P. C., Tunica manicata, 217
and, 844; Massilia, Siege of, and, Turnus, 12
297; Triumvirate and, 859 Tutors, 308, 311
Tresviri monetales, 219, 222 Twelfth Legion, 173, 458–59,
Tresviri rei publicae constituendae, 41, 814
470 Twelve Tables, 254, 276, 761
Treveri (tribe), 30, 380, 445 Twenty-Eighth Legion, 64, 460
Tria nomina (three-part name), Twenty-Fifth Legion, 460
573 Twenty-First Legion, 457
Trial of Rabirius (63 BCE), 845–50 Twenty-Ninth Legion, 460
Trials, 248 Twenty-Seventh Legion, 460
Triarii (third-liners), 54 Twenty-Sixth Legion, 460
Tribal Assembly, 167, 318, 452, 514, Tyrannicide, 365
668 Tyranny of a faction (dominatione
Tribuni aerarii, 70 facti), 480
Tributum (war tax), 194, 805
Tributum capitis (direct taxes on Ubii (tribe), 383
income), 805 Uccello, Paolo, 629 (photo)
Tributum soli (direct taxes on land), Umbraculum, 219
805 Undergarments (subligaculum), 215
Trigon (game), 704 Uniformity (aequabilitas), 478
Trinovantes (tribe), 107 United States, 419, 479, 516, 873
Triremes, 576 Unity (concordia), 609–10
“The Triumph of Julius Caesar” Urban plebs, 640, 642
(Andreani), 850 (photo) Urban proletariat, 451
The Triumph of Julius Caesar Urso, 227
(Uccello), 629 (photo) Us gentium (law applied to all
Triumphs/trophies, 850–55, 850 peoples), 453
(photo), 851 (photo) Usipetes (tribe), 382
Triumvirate, 62, 471, 550, 680, Ustinov, Peter, 770
690, 855–60; Afranius and, Ustores, 255
856; Brutus, M. J., and, 41; Cicero, Ustrinae (funeral pyres), 139, 561
Q., and, 181; gangs and, 367; Usucapio (marriage ceremony), 530
Sextus Pompey and, 42. See also Usus (marriage ceremony), 530
First Triumvirate; Second Triumvi- Utica, 863–64
rate
Triumviratus, 470 Vandal Kingdom, 228
Trojan War, 8, 531, 628 Vanderlyn, J., 523 (photo)
954
Index
Varro, M. Terentius, 9, 309, 528, Via di Grotta Pinta, 825

699, 769, 869 Via Egnatia, 301, 630
Vatinius, 372, 419, 518, 835, 857, Via Flaminia, 370, 695
867–71 Via principalis (main road),
Vectigalia (indirect taxes), 805, 807 135
Vegetables, 345 Via Sacra (Sacred Way), 80, 351–53,
Velites (light-armed skirmishers), 54, 359, 706, 780, 853
456–57 Via Valeria, 238, 295
Venationes (hunts), 359, 362, 825 Vibullius, 99
Veneficiis (poisoning), 246 Vibullius Rufus, 554
Veneti (tribe), 458, 833, 834, 836 Victimarii, 722
Veni Vidi Vici, 627 Victoriae gloriam (honor of the kill),
Venus, 10, 331, 349–50, 709; fresco 384
of, 216 (photo); Sulla, L. C., and, Victory (goddess), 262
290 Victrix, 350
Venus Cloacina, 353 Vicus Jugarius (Street of the
Venus Genetrix, 872–76, 872 (photo) Ropemakers), 80, 351
Venus of Cnidus, 872 (photo) Vicus Tuscus (Etruscan Street), 80,
Venus Victrix, 139, 299, 824 351
Vercingetorix (d. 46 BCE), 384, 759, Villa Borghese, 171
815, 842, 876–82; Alesia, Siege of, Villa Publica, 138
and, 16–19, 380; honor and, 402; as Viminal Hill, 140, 779
imperator, 424; Labienus and, 446, Vindicatio, 245
458; lithograph of, 876 (photo); in Vineyards, 13 (photo)
prison, 674; rebellion of, 7, 90 Violaria (festival), 563
Vereshchagin, Vasily, 259 (photo) Virgil, 10, 11, 873
Vergilius Maro, P. See Virgil Virtus, 404, 728
Verres, C., 177, 293, 329 Vis. See Public violence
Vesontio, 47 Vitae Caesarum (Suetonius),
Vespasian, 781 784 (photo)
Vesta, 709 Vitam relinquere. See Suicide
Vesta (hearth fire), 883 Vitruvius Pollio, 261
Vestal Virgins, 132, 660, 710, Volcae Tectosages (tribe), 376
882–87, 883 (photo) Volcanism, 540
Vestis cenatoria, 341 Volusenus, C., 173
Veterem belli gloriam (ancient glory in Vorenus, 392
warfare), 384
Vettius, 97, 293 Wailing Wall, 430 (photo)
Vetus, Antistius, 838 The War against Catiline (Sallust),
Vexillarius, 777 725
Via Aemilia, 373 War against Jugurtha (Sallust), 726
Via Appia (Appian Way), 108, 214, War tax. See Tributum
260, 278, 552 Washington, George, 479, 873
Via Aurelia, 463 Watson, Douglass, 755
Via Cassia, 463 Weapons. See Arms and armor
Via dei Giubbonari, 825 White Guelphs, 274
Via del Biscione, 825 Widows, 532
955
Index
Wilhelm I, 596 World War II, 34–35

Wilhelm II, 596 Writing, as recreation, 706
Wine, 347
Women, 67, 537; Bona Dea and, Xena: Warrior Princess (TV series),
102; clothing of, 215–16, 218–19; 636
collegia and, 224; divorced, 532; Xenophon, 509
gynaikonitis and, 71; law and, 454;
marriage and, 528; names and, Yaggy, L. W., 883 (photo)
573; praenomina and, 573; protec- Yehudin, 429
tion of, 589; widowed, 532
Workshops, 697 Zeus, 809
World War I, 596 Zoroastrianism, 617, 711
956
About the Author
MICHAEL LOVANO, PhD, holds the position of assistant professor of

History at St. Norbert College, De Pere, Wisconsin. Before coming to
St. Norbert, he was a visiting assistant professor at Pepperdine University,
and lecturer in the Departments of Classics and History at University of
California, Los Angeles (UCLA). Additionally, he served as the instructor
of overseas summer programs in Rome, Italy, for both UCLA and Loyola
Marymount University/Loyola University Chicago. His published works
include a book on Julius Caesar’s father-in-law titled The Age of Cinna (in
the Historia Einzelschriften series of Franz Steiner Verlag), a chapter on
“Tacitus’ Annals” in the collection Classical Literature and Its Times (from
Thomson-Gale), and a chapter on “Rome: A Story of Conflict” in The Ox-
ford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World. Lovano earned his doctor-
ate in history at UCLA.

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All Things

To my mom, Biagina Lovano, because I don’t know

And to our very dearest friend, Avis Rawlings,

Alphabetical List of Entries ix

Guide to Related Topics xv

Genealogy of Julius Caesar xli

All Things Julius Caesar A–L 1–506

Alphabetical List of Entries ix

Guide to Related Topics xv

All Things Julius Caesar M–V 507–888

Select Bibliography 903

Caesarion (47–30 BCE) Curia

Haruspicy Marius (ca. 157–86 BCE)

Popular Assemblies Taxation/Tax Farming

Cassius Dio Describes Pompey’s The Reaction of Octavian

Religion, Roman Cinna the Elder (d. 84 BCE)

Senatus Consultum Ultimum Cleopatra (d. 30 BCE)

Triumphs/Trophies Juba (d. 46 BCE)

the historian’s term); the sidebars consist of a range of fascinating factoids,

Instead, he “reconstituted the Republic” by fixing what appeared broken,

warfare, including massive mobilization of citizen-troops, seemed to de-

arrival of reinforcements. Even then, the conditions of the Adriatic played

CAESAR AND FORTUNA

some Romans to look down on the Greek populations they conquered as

determined from written sources and modern excavations, land surveys,

Alesia, Siege of (52 BCE)

While the Roman soldiers were engaged in building up these siege

Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE)

Bust of Alexander the Great from

upon the Roman encampment in Nervian territory, which was commanded

Thompson, E. A. 1965. The Early Germans. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

American Caesar: Douglas MacArthur

General Douglas MacArthur signs as Supreme Allied Commander during formal

Yet, Manchester characterizes MacArthur, for all his effective constitu-

closely resembles Caesar’s adversaries, such as the dictator Sulla or espe-

Antony/Antonius, Marcus (ca. 83–30 BCE)

labels were often freely attached by more conservative Romans to men of

late twenties, he demonstrated such qualities as an officer of Gabinius, both

Antony utilized this occasion to his advantage. He created an uproar,

leading thousands of soldiers who thought fondly of Antony and preferred

Kennedy, G. 1963. Art of Persuasion in Greece. Princeton, NJ: Princeton Univer-

See also: Aedui; Gaul/Gallia Comata; Gaul Transalpine/Gallia Transalpina;

Arms and Armor

galea, provided at government expense and manufactured, as in Caesar’s

Artistic Depictions of Caesar

The Imperial biographer Suetonius preserved a physical description of

LITTLE CAESAR’S PIZZA

Asinius Pollio (76 BCE–4 CE)

he made to them through messengers about large presents of payment.

recording developments in his writings from the sidelines, survived, despite

Atia (ca. 85–43 BCE)

Augustus. See Octavian-Augustus (63 BCE–14 CE)

in the form of a suffect (fill-in) consulship. In that intervening time, Balbus

Bellum Civile (Caesar)

to the reader, in reality as well. This occurred especially in the speeches he

Bellum Gallicum (Caesar)

Bibulus (d. 48 BCE)

Bibulus had utilized all the traditional, constitutional tools of obstruc-

Bibulus also continued his attempts at obstruction by taking the auspices

Bibulus’s consulship in favor of Caesar, he nonetheless, like many others