Wednesday, 9 October 2019

Book 3, Letter 12, part 1 of 4 To Cicero, on The Civil War




Dear Cicero,

My apologies, dear friend, for the lateness of this letter. I have been busy with a dance festival, and if it interests you, you may read my account of the opening concert, and the part I played...


The first letter I ever wrote to you, I asked you a question, do you remember? (Insert link to first letter) I asked you to tell me what Caesar was really like, and Pompey. Well, now you have begun to tell me. I have been reading your letters again, and every night I have held your book in my hand and felt the anxiety, uncertainty and wild sense of chaos as Caesar marches closer to Rome, and every day his army gets stronger while Pompey shrinks and runs towards his own shadow. Fleeing Italy, abandoning the Republic. Every night I fall asleep with your troubles on my mind.

I've become so wrapped up in your story Cicero, that sometimes I don't even know what is going on in my own time. I was asked today if I knew what the weather was going to be like tomorrow, I just pulled at my hair and laughed, joking: Caesar is in Rome with his legions and you ask me about the weather!?

I've said it many times before, but the sense of your living spirit is so strong in your writing, and never more so as in your letters. I have just finished reading volume two (of four volumes), translated by Evelyn Shuckburgh in 1899. Letters spanning April 51 – June 49 BCE, two hundred and twenty one letters in all, to family, friends, allies, enemies and servants. The collected letters paint a more vibrant picture of real life in ancient Rome than anything else I have read, (with the possible exception of The social life of Rome in the time of Cicero by W.Warde Fowler, 1908). The frequent reference to the unreliable system by which letters were delivered by servants, the polite double-speak of political alliances, the gentle touches of friendship amidst the torment of impending civil war...it is all in full colour in my mind. Every night I read more, and, as only a true friend can, I feel the weight of your burden, and I suffer with you. I now more fully understand Petrarch  when he said:

As regards Cicero, I have known him as the best of consuls, vigilantly providing for the welfare of the State, and as a citizen who always evinced the highest love of country. But what more? I cannot bestow praise upon the instability of his friendships, nor upon the serious disagreements arising from slight causes and bringing destruction upon him and benefit to none, nor upon a judgement which, when brought to bear upon questions of private and public affairs, did not well accord with his remarkable acumen in other directions. Above all, I cannot praise, in a philosopher weighed down with years, an inclination for wrangling which is proper to youths and utterly of no avail. Of all this, however, remember that neither you nor anyone else can be in a fit position to judge, until you will have read, and carefully, all the letters of Cicero; for it is these which gave rise to the whole discussion.

I am on my way Cicero. There is a long road ahead of me, and I will walk it.

However, mid-journey as I am, I will try to understand this present part of your story, and I feel that I should begin with something you said of Rome itself, not the empire, but the City. This I quote from a letter to your friend and political ally, Rufus.

CCLXI
To M. Caelius Rufus
June 50BCE

...The City, the City my dear Rufus – stick to that and live in its full light! Residence elsewhere – as I made up my mind early in life – is mere eclipse and obscurity to those whose energy is capable of shining at Rome...”

This part of your story, Cicero, has a lot to do with Caesar, and to understand your feelings about him, it seems important to understand the patriotism that moved you, and to what degree you were emotionally attached to both Rome, and to the old order of government. I can think of no other way to describe those feelings, than to use the word LOVE. Your duty of service to the state was an act of love. It was an act of disciplined virtue, it was the pursuit of the highest good for your nation, through the application of your skills and virtues.

Your passion for speaking in the courts seems born out of love for the majesty of your country, your people, your city. You were proud of your nation's history. You were very proud of your own achievements, proud to have stood as Consul and to have saved the republic from the Catiline conspiracy. You were proud to have served in Cilicia as governor, even though you quite plainly never wanted to serve in such a capacity, yet I seem to recall Plato remarking in The Republic that the best leaders, are often the ones most reluctant to take up the task. You were proud to have led your soldiers to fight the rebellious tribes of the Taurus Mountains and to have received from your soldiers the title Imperator for your success, (though the real weight and value of such a title is of some doubt). It is not in doubt that you loved your country Cicero, you loved your people, you hated corruption and greed and you fought every day, using your considerable skills with language, both spoken and written, to make the name of Rome shine brighter still in the minds of her subjects, and upon the pages of written history. You were honest when all around you seem duplicitous. You were generous when all others seem greedy. You were a voice crying for peace when all around you clamoured for war.

CCLXXII
To M Caelius Rufus
August 50BCE

...Politics makes me very anxious. I am fond of Curio : I wish Caesar to shew himself an honest man : I could die for Pompey : but after all nothing is dearer in my sight than the Republic itself...”

So, with all this in mind, the story of Rome's violation by civil war seems bound up in the story of the first Triumvirate; the power sharing and political alliance between Caesar, Pompey and Crassus. In every love triangle, there are always external forces exerting an influence on the spinning centre. I will deal with Crassus in another letter...for the moment I will focus on Pompey and Caesar...


 Pompey

Caesar

Julia

Cornelia

Cornelia Image: Published by Guillaume Rouille (1518?-1589) - "Promptuarii Iconum Insigniorum"

Pompey married Caesar's daughter, Julia, whose mother Cornelia, is also very interesting...

Unlike many political marriages, and certainly differing from his prior disastrous relationships, Pompey absolutely loved Julia. This was considered rather uncommon in an age where men of high rank often had wives in order to produce children, but kept mistresses for the expressions of their love and affection. Pompey loved Julia so much people made fun of him for it, as Plutarch explains in his Life of Pompey

[47] For on a sudden, contrary to all expectation, he married Julia, the daughter of Cæsar, who had been affianced before and was to be married within a few days to Cæpio. And to appease Cæpio’s wrath, he gave him his own daughter in marriage, who had been espoused before to Faustus, the son of Sylla. Cæsar himself married Calpurnia, the daughter of Piso.

[53.2] Certainly the young wife's fondness for her husband was notorious, and Pompey, at his age, scarcely seemed to be a fit object for such passionate devotion. The reason for it seems to have lain in his constancy as a husband (since he remained entirely faithful to his own wife), and also in his ability to unbend from his dignity and to become really charming in personal relationships [...].

This politically arranged marriage was a binding force between Pompey and Caesar, it held them together when their policy differences may have driven them apart. Julia was the person of their common love, and that love held them together.

But when Julia died...that alliance died with it.

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