CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH.

REACTION AGAINST THE POLICY OF SULLA. SERVICES OF Q. SERTORIUS.
METELLUS. CN. POMPEY. SPIRITED STEPS OF SPARTACUS. THE
IRATE PIRATE.

Cæsar and Pompey very much alike, especially Pompey. Cæsar and Pompey very much alike, especially Pompey.

he tyrannical acts of Sulla had smothered, but not extinguished, the flame of liberty, and every piece of injustice had been so much fuel heaped upon a smouldering fire. At the death of Sulla, the population consisted of little else than those who had been beggared by a rapacious soldiery, and the military desperadoes who had done the tyrant's work; a melancholy combination of the victimisers and the victimised. The Consuls were M. Æmilius Lepidus and Q. Lutatius Catulus; the former having enriched himself by connexion with the dictator's party, but the tide having turned, he turned with it, in the hope that it might again lead on to fortune. Catulus, on the other hand, adhered to the policy of Sulla; and there being reason to fear that the two Consuls would get up a quarrel—in the course of which the lookers-on would be robbed—the Senate made the Consuls swear that they would not take up arms against each other. The oath was readily taken, and no less readily broken by those republican chiefs, who came into violent collision near the very gates of Rome; and Lepidus, having got the worst of it, fled to Sardinia, where, having laid down his plans for the future, he laid down himself, and died rather unexpectedly.

Several of the laws of Sulla were so manifestly unjust as to be indefensible even by his own partisans; and many of them were repealed under various consulships. Cn. Pompey, who had been a warm adherent of the dictator, had a much warmer feeling for himself, and he courted popular favour by the promise of many reforms which involved a compromise of his former principles. The republic was, in fact, the sport of a set of unprincipled men, who were trying, by every artifice and crime, to get to the head of it. They cared nothing for the public interests, but thought only of their own; which will be too often the case when the chief power in the state is open to any who will make the highest bid for it. Pompey had gone into the market with his abilities when tyranny required tools; but perceiving that demagogues were now in demand, he endeavoured to make a profit of popular principles. Others had embarked on the same voyage, shifting their course with the breath of public opinion, and having no rudder but self-interest. One of these was L. Licinius Lucullus, a man of excessive wealth, which he used, or rather abused, in excessive luxury. He employed art for the purpose of opposing nature; and, among other pieces of prodigality, he endeavoured to convert a portion of the sea into a private fish-pond. This he attempted at his winter residence near Naples; where, by a cutting through the rocks he formed an opening into the bay, and kept upon his own premises a continual supply of fresh fish in a reservoir of salt water. His tastes were not, however, limited to the pleasures of the dinner-table; for he had not only studied the law, and had the Twelve Tables at his fingers' ends, but he had collected a library of such vast extent, that it comprehended a store of information far beyond the comprehension of its owner.

M. Licinius Crassus was another candidate for power, which he sought rather by means of his wealth, than his talents; for he had far more money than wit; and Crassus often evinced signs of crass ignorance.

Almost the only illustrious man of the period was C. Julius Cæsar, who could turn his hand, no matter what was in it, to anything. He was as ready with the pen as with the sword; but the latter was not sharper than his tongue; while his mind was so capacious and elastic, that it could adapt itself to small or great things with equal facility. A very little subject is often lost in the vast expanse of a very great intellect; and a diminutive understanding cannot afford space for the admission of a grand idea; but there was suitable accommodation for either one or the other, or both at once, in the self-adapting mind of Cæsar. He was an author without jealousy, a scholar without pedantry, and a politician without quackery.

These, and other illustrious men, flourished in Rome about this time; but Pompey, who had a natural love of pomp, possessed the art of concentrating upon himself the rays reflected from the brilliant personages who surrounded him; so that it was difficult to distinguish at all times between him and the other men of distinction of the period.

During the lifetime of Sulla, Q. Sertorius had been serving, or rather commanding, in Spain, where he held the post of prætor, and was engaged in keeping the interests of his party—that of Marius—alive, by killing all who were opposed to them. His professed object was to unite Spaniards and Romans as one people; but his mode of reconciling any differences was to put to the sword those who, after he had put their opinions to the test, were found to disagree with him. Sulla had sent an army, under C. Annius, to attack Sertorius in Spain, when Sertorius, looking upon C. Annius as a mere deputy, with whom a deputy on his side might deal, despatched Julius Salinator to meet the envoy. The result proved that the prætor had done wisely in acting on his discretion, rather than giving way to any sudden impulse of valour; for Salinator, whom he had sent as a substitute for himself, was killed, when, in his capacity of proxy, he approximated too closely to the enemy.

Sertorius, who had sent out Salinator as a sort of feeler—not exactly expecting that the latter would have to feel his death-blow—perceived there was little prospect of his own success; and he made his escape to Africa. While in Mauritania, having no quarrel of his own, he interfered in the quarrels of other people; and there being two claimants to the Mauritanian crown, he supported one, and—by way of keeping his hand in—picked the pocket of the other. His meddling having paid him extremely well, he made up his mind and his luggage to retire into private life, and an account he had heard of the Canary Islands tempted him to deposit his well-feathered nest in that congenial locality.

The Lusitanians, however, who had been robbed by the Romans belonging to Sulla's party, having a vague idea of the propriety of setting a thief to catch a thief, entreated Sertorius to defend them against their enemies. The engagement was entered into after some little delay as to the terms; when Sertorius set to work with so much ardour, that he was soon fighting four Roman generals at once; and, what was still more remarkable, he was getting decidedly the best of it. His mode of warfare was to pour down from one fastness to another with such speed, that his foes never knew where to have him, until he had them in the most unexpected manner. If they began to march, says Plutarch, he was upon their heels,—if they sat still, he was upon their back,—and if they invested a town, he turned the investment to his own profit by intercepting all their convoys. The enemy had no resource against his arms but their own legs, for flight was their sole safeguard.

Not satisfied with fighting the battles of the Spaniards, he began regulating their civil domestic affairs, and endeavoured to translate the Spanish into the Roman character. His object was to establish a Roman republic in Spain; but it is difficult to manufacture a foreign article of native materials. He appointed 300 persons as a senate; and, though the greater part were Spaniards, he took as many proscribed Romans as he could find, in the hope that they would serve as a sort of Roman cement, to make it hold together. He established a school—a classical academy—where Latin and Greek were taught, and where the pupils wore boys' tunics, after the Roman fashion.

Sertorius was a general favourite with all classes, besides the classes of the school; and happening to have a favourite fawn, which followed him wherever he went, flattery declared the fawn was sent him by the gods, as a mark of favour.

Fortune appeared to favour him in all he undertook; and even Q. Metellus, with a large army, could produce no effect,—a failure that was attributed to the age and imbecility of that illustrious veteran. Sertorius was joined by Perperna, who, on the strength of the forces he brought, expected to share in the command; but such is the influence of success, that Perperna's men repudiated their own leader, and insisted on having Sertorius as their general.

Sertorius and his young Friends. Sertorius and his young Friends.

The constant arrival of unfavourable news at Rome, at length induced Pompey to exclaim—"This will never do; I must go and settle the matter myself;" for Pompey's conceit induced him to conceive that he should easily conquer Sertorius. The latter was besieging Lauro, the modern Liria, to which the former advanced for the purpose of relieving it. There was, near the walls, a hill that it was important to possess, and both parties tried for it; but Sertorius, setting his eye on the top, was the first to get up to it. Pompey, with consummate vanity, expressed his determination to dislodge the fellow forthwith, and sent a message to the town, desiring the inhabitants to sit upon the walls, that they might see how cleverly he would dispose of their enemy. Sertorius, on hearing the boast, observed, smilingly, that "a general should watch behind as well as before,"—an observation that Pompey, who did not see behind him at the time, would often afterwards look back upon. Sertorius had, in fact, a very considerable reserve, with which he hemmed the besiegers in while he burned the inhabitants out, to the utter astonishment of Pompey, who, though near enough to the flames to warm his hands, could not interfere without burning his fingers.

Pompey was, nevertheless, impatient to measure swords with Sertorius; an operation which, though it seems indicative of coming to close quarters, must always keep a soldier at arm's length, at least, from his antagonist. Desirous of all the glory that might be obtained, Pompey, hearing that Metellus was coming up with assistance, resolved on precipitating a battle, and he accordingly commenced one rather late in the afternoon, though he knew he might be quite in the dark as to the issue. Sertorius and Pompey each advanced at the head of a division, but by some accident they did not happen to meet; and each of them came back to the main body of his army with the conviction that he had been victorious. On the renewal of the conflict the generals met, the armies knocked their two heads together, when Pompey, being stunned by the blow, and having no one to advise him what to do, took to flight for the purpose of consulting his own safety.

Though apparently invincible by his enemies, Sertorius was not safe from his friends, for he was murdered at a dinner-party given to him by Perperna. The cloth had not been removed, when Sertorius was startled by a singular entrée, in the shape of a band of assassins, who set upon him and slew him. So much was he respected by the Spaniards, that it is said his death brought dying suddenly into fashion, and many killed themselves at his funeral, for the purpose of taking Sertorius as their pattern. Perperna immediately declared himself commander-in-chief, but he was quite unfit for the place, and in his very first engagement he was cut to pieces, with the whole of his army. Whether they were literally cut to pieces, is a matter of doubt to us, though the account is placidly adopted by the graver historians; but when we consider the quantity of cutting and coming again of the same parties—as exemplified particularly in the case of the Samnites—which we are continually called upon to place faith in, we find belief rather difficult.

Armed Slave Armed Slave

While these things were proceeding in Spain, the slaves were going on in the most perplexing manner in Italy and its neighbourhood. Some of the ablest of them had been trained in gladiatorial schools to afford amusement in the Circus; but this outrage to humanity brought much misery in its train to those who were the cause of it. The slaves were exercised in the use of all sorts of weapons, and humanity was lowered by hiring them out for shows on public occasions. Being skilled in the employment of the sword, they began to think of wielding it against their oppressors, instead of trying it upon each other, and about seventy of them escaped under the leadership of a Thracian of their body, named Spartacus. Being unprovided with arms, they plundered the cook-shops, where they seized spits for spears, skewers for daggers, carving knives for swords, dripping-pans for shields, and basting-spoons for general purposes. They next entered the shops of the carpenters, and seized the tools of the workmen, many of whom concealed the implements of their industry; but, if a saw happened to show its teeth, it was immediately captured. Their party, though at first small, was increased by all the runaway debtors of the district; for it is a remarkable fact that those who owe privately more than they can pay, are often foremost among those who talk the loudest about what they owe to the public interests. They took up their position on Mount Vesuvius—an appropriate place for a breaking out—and their numbers having swelled to 10,000, they poured themselves down, like a devastating stream of lava, on many neighbouring towns, which were speedily laid in ashes. Spartacus pushed forward as far as the foot of the Alps; but his followers were intent on returning to Rome, in order to sack it, and add its contents to their baggage. M. Licinius Crassus was sent after him; and having undertaken to overtake him, came up with him in Lucania. The slaves fought like lions, or, rather, with the ferocity of the brutes with whom they had been taught to contend, and were, in some instances, victorious.

Crassus had sent Mummius to keep the army in check, but the latter had received particular directions not to fight; for the object of the republican general was to take all the glory for himself, irrespective of his country's interests. Mummius, however, had the same feeling, and was desirous of winning a reputation, regardless of the orders of his superior; for he knew that a military success, in the unstable condition of the executive, would, however irregular, be passed over by the people, and perhaps made a stepping-stone for himself to supreme power. His men, who were not actuated by the same personal motives as himself, saw the insufficiency of their force, and, being seized with a panic, ran away, without stopping to draw their swords from their scabbards. Spartacus formed the idea of passing into Sicily, and proceeded to Rhegium, where he bargained with some pirates to supply him with vessels; but after pretending much friend-ship, they never furnished him with any ship at all, though he had paid the knaves the price of a small navy.

Spartacus found himself blockaded in Rhegium; and Crassus, cutting a trench all round, thought to prevent all egress from the place; but neither Crassus nor his trench proved deep enough to answer the purpose proposed, for Spartacus filled up a portion of the ditch, and walked over it. Crassus, now fearing that his cause was lost, sent to Rome for the assistance of Pompey, who, priding himself on his previous victories, and mentally ejaculating, "I'm the only man; they 're always obliged to send for me," proceeded to meet Spartacus. No sooner had Crassus sent for help, than he recovered from his panic, and sent to say he should require no aid; but he had calculated in the absence of the host, for when the host of Spartacus appeared, Crassus found it no easy matter to contend with them. The latter, however, grown too confident of success, determined on running the chance of striking or receiving a decisive blow, notwithstanding the misgivings of their leader.

Spartacus. Spartacus.

Spartacus commenced the day by sending for his horse, and killing it, to the utter astonishment of the spectators, and the intense bewilderment of the unfortunate animal. "If I win the day," said he, "I shall have many better horses; but if I lose it, the poor creature would be useless to me in my very humble walk of life, or my more probable walk out of it." Such was his only mode of accounting for an act, which none who pitied the suffering of an equine animal could regard with equanimity. On the day of the battle, Spartacus was soon wounded, but falling on his knees, he continued to fight in that uneasy position. Being at last overpowered, he fell, with 40,000 of his men, who, according to the authorities, were sent to destruction; but though there is no hesitation in saying where they went, the question where they came from, is one which the grave historians have paid no attention to. Of the whole 40,000 who are said to have been found dead upon the field, it is asserted that two only had their backs to the foe; but we suspect that if there had been time for the defeated to have turned themselves round, there would have been many more in the same position.

Crassus marched towards Rome, expecting to be received with enthusiasm; but Pompey who had met and exterminated 3000 Thracians, sent a letter home, declaring that "what Crassus had done was all very well, but that he (Pompey) had really put an end to the war by his act of determined butchery." Knowing the value attached by a military republic to a sanguinary act, he was sanguine enough to expect the office of Consul. This he obtained in conjunction with his rival Crassus, who laid himself out, and laid out a considerable sum of money as well, for the purchase of mob popularity. He gave the people corn for nothing, and invited them to dinner-parties of 10,000 at a time; but his prodigality only proves the extent of his plunder, for nothing could have gone into the public mouth, but that which had in some shape or other come out of the public pocket. Pompey, on the other hand, practised the profession of humility, which perhaps answered better in a double sense; for it was certainly cheaper, and possibly somewhat more effective, than ostentatious prodigality. He used to lead his own horse in a procession, to show that he was a simple eques, on a footing of equality with other citizens. When his consulship was at an end, he retired into a private station, where he lived like a prince—a style that seems to be much in favour with those who preach the doctrine of perfect equality.

It was impossible for such an active participator in public affairs to remain wholly idle; and the alarming spread of piracy soon gave him an opportunity for really honourable distinction. The pirates were becoming a scourge to Rome, but Rome had richly deserved it, for it had been her own injustice that had called into existence these dangerous enemies to humanity. They consisted, in the first instance, of men ruined by Roman extortion, who took to the mountains and the sea, where the true excitement of the ups and downs of life may be most vividly experienced. These men had in time been joined by the once rich and noble, some of whom, having sold the wives and families they could no longer keep, began to plough the ocean as the only field of enterprise. Piracy thus became a regular business of man, just as in more civilised times it has become a regular part of the business of bookselling. Towns were plundered, the cattle were carried off, and the inhabitants walked off to captivity. The rich were frequently kidnapped on the roads, and nothing but a handsome ransom would obtain their liberty.

The pirates had been often reduced, but had never been rooted out; and the tribune, A. Gabinius, proposed, therefore, that Pompey should be called upon to do extraordinary things with extraordinary powers. He was to have supreme command for three years, during which period he was to have whatever was asked, and to order everybody or everything that he required. He took his own measures extremely well, and took the measure of the pirates also with such effect, that he soon drove them from all their fastnesses, with a speed quite marvellous.

Though his extraordinary powers had been conferred upon him for three years, he had such still more extraordinary power over himself, that he made a voluntary surrender of the former, when the object for which they had been entrusted to him was accomplished. Everything was achieved in three months, during which period he had taken several towns, none of which he had kept to himself, though one of them, in Cilicia, called Soli, he made a solitary exception of, by giving it the name of Pompeiopolis. The people of Soli talked a mixed dialect of Asiatic and Greek, which caused such a confusion of speech, that a great deal of confounded nonsense was the result; and it is said that the word solecism, as applied to an inaccuracy of speech, is derived from the name of the place alluded to.

That the Romans should have been hostile to piracy is somewhat inconsistent with the principle, or rather the want of principle, on which they acted themselves, for they pirated almost everything. Their literature was mere piracy from the Greeks; and according to some authorities, the Romans pirated even from the pirates themselves; for the former are said to have pirated from the latter the idea of the system of the Zodiac.

The pirates carried on their lawless trade with such success, that they had a fleet of more than 1000 galleys, many of them being handsomely gilded—a fact that glossed over in the eyes of many the iniquity of the means by which such wealth had been acquired. A dash of gaiety is said to have pervaded the enormities of these lawless depredators; and when among their prisoners they captured a Roman of high rank, they would politely request him to walk into the sea; for "to enslave one of the lords of the earth was an act they could not think of being guilty of." Young Julius Cæsar, who fell into their hands when a mere boy, on his voyage to Rhodes, appears to have met them more than half way in their sallies of humour. They asked twenty talents for his ransom, when he offered them fifty; and even then was so little anxious to leave them, that he remained thirty-eight days after having paid his money and become entitled to his quittance. During his stay among them he wrote satirical verses on their barbarous mode of life, and parried off their swords by the still keener weapons of ridicule. The pirates were amused by the sallies of their prisoner, who conveyed to them all the bluntness of truth in all the sharpness of epigram. They were sorry enough to part with him, when the money for his ransom arrived; but they had reason to be still more sorry when they met him again; for when he did so, it was only to capture them and carry them to Pergamus.