True, he divorced his wife Pompeia, on the grounds that members of his household must be above suspicion: a remark that has often laughingly been quoted against him, but which was completely justified because of his status as the high priest of the Roman religion. At the trial of Clodius, Cicero, as defendant of Roman morality, very naturally spoke vehemently against the accused. Caesar, the injured husband—to most people’s astonishment—said that he had no knowledge of the affair. The fact was that he and Crassus had come to the conclusion that the rake Clodius was exactly the kind of man they needed to replace Catiline in working upon the passions of the Roman mob. Where Catiline had failed them, Clodius might succeed. Crassus, in fact, seems to have advanced Clodius enough money to bribe the majority of the jurors so that, despite his own feeble defense (which Cicero demolished), thirty-one of the jurors voted for his acquittal as against twenty-five who, true to their consciences or responding to Cicero’s oratory, pronounced him guilty. Despite the scandal, Caesar came out of the affair quite well, for he had probably long wanted to divorce Pompeia since she was childless. Also Clodius was now beholden to both Crassus and Caesar, Crassus for money and Caesar for his denial of any knowledge of the background for the charge.

For some reason or other—perhaps because of the trial of Clodius—the allotment of the praetorial provinces was delayed until March that year. Caesar could now look forward to the rewards of his position, for he had drawn the governorship of Farther Spain—where he had served before as quaestor. His troubles were far from over, however, for his creditors in Rome began to press him so hard that it was even doubtful whether he would be able to get away to the province where he hoped to restore his finances. Once again Crassus came to his rescue, enabling Caesar to escape his most urgent creditors and assume his command. The province comprised Baetica, the Romanized and peaceful southern part of the peninsula, and Lusitania, western Spain and the mountainous spine of Portugal. The latter was scarcely settled and was a constant source of trouble to both the governors and the governed in the south. Caesar looked to it with anticipation as possibly providing him with the type of military success that could make a governor’s fame and fortune. He badly needed some military glory to counterbalance the great sun of Pompey that had risen in the East.

 

 

 

9

 

Pompey and Caesar

 

OVERSHADOWING all these events in Rome, dwarfing the intrigues of Crassus and Caesar and the Clodius scandal, loomed the immense figure of Pompey the Great. Pompeius Magnus seemed at that time so much more distinguished than any other Roman. Yet, in fact, as any study of his life reveals, his career was hardly different from that of any conspicuous Roman of the time. It was only his outstanding successes, first in Africa against the last of the Marians, then against Sertorius in Spain and next in his sweeping command of the sea against the pirates, which gave this impression. In all other respects he had shown himself as unrepresentative of the old conception of republican virtues as any other who wished to overturn Cicero’s dream of the republic. As Sir Ronald Syme puts it: “The career of Pompeius opened in fraud and violence. It was prosecuted, in war and in peace, through illegality and treachery.”

Now, early in 61, before Caesar had left for Spain, Pompey returned to Italy triumphant with his 40,000 legionaries. He had not only settled all the troubles of Asia Minor, thus enriching Rome with immense and increasing wealth, but he brought back—a gift, as it were, to the empire—the rich and important province of Syria. Mithridates was dead, Roman influence extended as far as the Caucasus, and the sea was pirate-free. In the course of the past three years and more he had not only enriched his country immeasurably but, of course, himself as well. Such was to be expected, for the rewards enjoyed by victorious Roman generals were not just the medals, titles and retirement pensions that their successors in our century may consider their simple due. Pompey the Great was now almost certainly richer than Crassus: what is more he had hundreds of indebted clients in the territories that he had subdued and thousands of devoted legionaries whom he had also benefited, and to whom he had promised land on a very large scale. On arriving in Italy he had dis-missed his soldiers, though many senators had feared he might use them to impose a dictatorship, and advanced on Rome in total confidence. Caesar was among the first to propose massive new honors to the returning conqueror, for he saw that Pompey as well as Crassus might make a more than useful ally.

J. A. Froude in his Caesar—a Sketch conveys the atmosphere of Pompey’s reception as well as the subsequent disillusionment with him:

 

He was received as he advanced with the shouts of applauding multitudes.