What they had taken for a jest was more than earnest. On arrival at Miletus—only a short sail or “pull” away—Caesar at once raised several ships, their crews (possibly pirates themselves), no doubt on the basis of “no cure, no pay.” Despite his pretense of relaxed geniality, he had clearly been infuriated by his detention. It was winter; the island (probably the larger of two in this area, and one which has a good harbor) would have been barren and bone-chilling. Also, and he was to remain so all his life, he was an authoritarian, a strict believer that civilization could only be maintained by the exercise of discipline over all the anarchic forces which would destroy it.

While the pirates were still engaged upon their “Treasure Island,” Caesar returned. The lean, apparently soft and somewhat effeminate young man was transformed into an eagle of vengeance. In what appears to have been a miniature sea-battle—the pirates attempting to escape as soon as the other vessels were sighted—several of their boats were sunk and the crews of the others all surrendered. Both ashore, and in the vessels that remained afloat, Caesar had recaptured not only the money that had been advanced by the neighboring cities for his ransom but everything else that the pirates had stored away on Pharmacussa. His visit to Bithynia had—temporarily—been postponed, but he had acquired a small fortune which, even after the expenses of the expedition had been met and the ransom money returned to the cities from which it had come, should still yield a handsome profit to the man who had initiated the destruction of the pirates’ nest and the capture of their loot and their leaders.

The captured pirates were taken to Pergamos, where the governor of Asia Minor, Marcus Juncus, normally resided. Finding that he was away settling the affairs of Bithynia, Caesar followed him there. To his disgust he found that the governor, “having an eye to their wealth, which was considerable,” was unwilling to give an immediate decision on the fate of the prisoners. Indeed, he said that he would rather sell them than execute them as this would be of benefit to the treasury. Velleius Paterculus refers to the governor as “no less envious than cowardly.” He was envious perhaps because of the wealth which would accrue to Caesar, but “cowardly” is difficult to explain. It seems unlikely that the governor feared that friends of the captured men might take revenge upon him if they were executed, unless, of course, he had been working hand in glove with the pirates operating off his coastline. Such a thing is not impossible, for the behavior of many Roman governors and generals at this stage in the empire was often far more reprehensible than simple collusion.

Caesar took matters into his own hands and returned at once to Pergamos. Before the governor’s instructions to proceed with the sale of the pirates had arrived, he, acting on his own initiative, had fulfilled his promise to the pirates and had them crucified.

Having settled his affairs in Bithynia, and enriched by his share of the pirates’ plunder, Caesar now proceeded to pay that visit to Rhodes which is usually given as his reason for being in the East at all. But he can have had little time to benefit from his stay with the eloquent Apollonius Molon, for almost immediately the third war initiated by King Mithridates broke out, this time brought about by the fact that Mithridates refused to accept the will of Nicomedes bequeathing Bithynia to Rome. Hearing that some of the King’s forces had broken into the province of Asia, Caesar immediately—acting on his own account and without any orders—crossed over from Rhodes to the mainland and either raised his own forces or took charge of the local militia. With these troops under his command he drove the enemy out of the province: a remarkable action for so young a man and one which once again showed his dash and initiative.

Caesar’s time in Greece and the Aegean and Asia Minor, as a young man in his middle twenties, showed all the hallmarks of his later career. He was first and foremost a politician, had a natural bent for the military life, was financially unscrupulous, and would tolerate no man standing in his way or threatening his path to power.

 

 

 

4

 

Politics and Money

 

IN the year 73, while Caesar was a staff officer in Asia Minor with the congenial duty of helping to remove the pirate menace from the eastern Mediterranean, he learned that his uncle, Gaius Cotta, had died. This left a vacancy in the College of Pontiffs, and Caesar, aged only twenty-six, had been nominated to fill it. It was an important step forward in his career, and it is not surprising that he immediately set out for Italy. Once again it is noticeable that, although he thrived on the active military life, he was always willing to abandon it the moment that some political advantage beckoned from Rome. The College of Pontiffs, which had been established very early in Roman history to watch over the preservation of religious observance and orthodoxy, had none of the disadvantages of his previous dalliance with the priesthood and all the advantages of one of the most exclusive clubs in the capital city. While non-political, it offered a privileged position in ruling circles and, to the right man at the right time, the ultimate and attractive prospect of aspiring to the office of pontifex maximus, the pagan Pope of Rome. There can be no doubt that Caesar’s family connections had been more than helpful in securing him this nomination, while his winning the civic crown at Mitylene and the commendation of his commander also probably played their part.

Having made the crossing from Asia Minor, or Rhodes, to Greece, Caesar then crossed the Adriatic in a small boat of only four oars, manned by ten slaves and accompanied by two friends. Years later, in 49, at the height of his battle for the Roman world, he was to attempt to repeat the journey in somewhat similar fashion—only to be defeated by the weather. On this occasion, however, the crossing was successful, although at one moment there was an alarm.

 

On the way over he thought he saw pirate ships and immediately took off his clothes presumably to swim for it rather than be captured yet again and fastened a dagger to his side. He soon realized he was mistaken and that what he had taken for the masts of ships was a row of trees coming up on the horizon.

(A nice touch by Velleius Paterculus)

 

On arrival in Rome, confirmed in his office by the College of Pontiffs, his ambition spurred him to make use of his military service and his civic crown to apply for the office of military tribune, twenty-four of whom were nominated annually. He was elected in 73 but did not assume his rank until the year after his return to Italy. The office did not necessarily imply active service in the field, but was often concerned solely with military organization and staff work at home, and the engagement only lasted for six months.