Letters of 48 BC: Epirus and Brundisium

CCCCIV. To Atticus (at Rome), Epirus, January

I have received from you the sealed document conveyed by Anteros. I could gather nothing from it about my domestic affairs. What gives me the most painful anxiety about them is the fact that the man who has acted as my steward is not at Rome, nor do I know where in the wide world he is. My one hope of preserving my credit and property is in your most thoroughly proved kindness; and if ill this unhappy and desperate crisis you still maintain that, I shall have greater courage to endure these dangers which are shared with me by the rest of the party. I adjure and intreat you to do so. I have in Asia in cistophori money amounting to 2,200,000 sesterces (about £17,600). By negotiating a bill of exchange for that sum you will have no difficulty in maintaining my credit. If indeed I had not thought that I was leaving that quite clear—in reliance on the man on whom you have long since known that I ought to have no reliance—I should have stayed in Italy for some little time longer, and should not have left my finances embarrassed: and I have been the longer in writing to you because it was a long time before I understood what the danger to be feared was. I beg you again and again to undertake the protection of my interests in all respects, so that, supposing the men with whom I now am to survive, I may along with them remain solvent, and credit your kindness with my safety.

CCCCV. To Atticus (at Rome), Epirus, 5 February

I received your letter on the 4th of February, and on the same day formally accepted the inheritance in accordance with the will. Of my many and most distressing anxieties one is removed, if; as you say, this inheritance is sufficient to maintain my credit and reputation; though even without any inheritance I am aware that you would have defended them by all means at your disposal. As to what you say about the dowry, I adjure you, in the name of all the gods, to undertake that whole business and protect the poor girl, whom my default and carelessness have reduced to distress, by the aid of funds belonging to me, if there are such, of your own if you can do so without inconvenience. You say that she is without any means: pray do not allow that state of things to continue. Why, what are the payments that have swallowed up the rents of my estates? For instance, one ever told me that the sixty sestertia, which you mention, had been deducted from the dowry; for I should never have allowed it. But this is the smallest of the frauds from which I have suffered: of which sorrow and tears prevent my writing to you. Of the money deposited in Asia I have called in nearly half. It seemed likely to be safer where it now is than in the hands of the publicani. You exhort me to be of good courage: I could have wished that you were able to allege some reason for my being so. But if to my other misfortunes there has been added the confiscation of my town house, which Chrysippus told me was in contemplation (you gave me no hint of it), who is he now in all the world in a worse plight than myself? I beg and beseech you,—pardon me, I can write no more. You must see what a crushing weight of sorrow mine is. If it were only such as is common to me with the rest of those who are regarded as being in the same position as myself, my error had seemed less grave and therefore more easy to bear. As it is, there is no consolation, unless you secure (if it is not now too late to secure it) that I have no special loss or wrong inflicted upon me. I have been somewhat slow in sending back your letter-carrier, because there was no opportunity of getting him across. Pray send letters in my name to any to whom you think it right to do so. You know my intimates. If they remark on the absence of my signet or handwriting, pray tell them that I have avoided using either owing to the military pickets.

CCCCVI. M. Caelius Rufus to Cicero (in Epirus), Rome, February or March

To think that I was in Spain rather than at Formiae when you started to join Pompey I Oh that Appius Claudius had been on our side, or Gaius Curio on yours! It was my friendship for the latter that gradually edged me on to this infernal party—for I feel that my good sense was destroyed between anger and affection. You too-when, being on the point of starting for Ariminum, I came at night to visit you—in the midst of your giving me messages for Caesar about peace, and playing your rôle of fine citizen, you quite forgot your duty as a friend and took no thought of my interests. And I am not saying this because I have lost confidence in this cause, but, believe me, I'd rather die than see these fellows here. Why, if people were not afraid of your men being bloodthirsty, we should long ago have been driven out of Rome. For here, with the exception of a few moneylenders, there is not a man or a class that is not Pompeian. Personally, I have brought it about that the masses above all, and—what was formerly ours—the main body of citizens should be now on your side. "Why did I do so?" quoth you. Nay, wait for what is to come: I'll make you conquer in spite of yourselves. You shall see me play the part of a second Cato. You are asleep, and do not appear to me as yet to understand where we are open to attack, and what our weak point is. And I shall act thus from no hope of reward, but, what is ever the strongest motive with me, from indignation and a feeling of having been wronged. What are you doing over there? Are you Waiting for a battle? That's Caesar's strongest point. I don't know about your forces; ours have become thoroughly accustomed to fighting battles and making light of cold and hunger.

CCCCVII. Dolabella to Cicero (in Epirus), Caesar's Camp in Epirus, May or June

If you are well, I am glad. I am quite well, and so is our dear Tullia. Terentia has been rather unwell, but I am assured that she has now recovered. In all other respects things are quite as they should be at your house. Though at no time did I deserve to be suspected by you of acting from party motives rather than from a regard to your interests, when I urged you either to join Caesar and myself, or at least to retire from open war, especially since victory has already inclined in our favour, it is now not even possible that I should create any other impression than that of urging upon you what I could not, with due regard to my duty as your son-in-law, suppress. On your part, my dear Cicero, pray regard what follows-whether you accept or reject the advice—as both conceived and written with the best possible intention and the most complete devotion to yourself. You observe that Pompey is not secured either by the glory of his name and achievements, or by the list of client kings and peoples, which he was frequently wont to parade: and that even what has been possible for the rank and file, is impossible for him,—to effect an honourable retreat: driven as he has been from Italy, the Spanish provinces lost, a veteran army captured, and now finally inclosed by his enemy's lines. Such disasters I rather think have never happened to a Roman general. Wherefore employ all your Wisdom in considering what either he or you have to hope. For thus you will most easily adopt the policy which will be to your highest advantage. Yet I do beg this of you,—that if Pompey succeeds in avoiding this danger and taking refuge with his fleet, you should consult for your own interests, and at length be your own friend rather than that of anyone else in the world. You have by this time satisfied the claims of duty or friendship, whichever you choose to call it: you have fulfilled all obligations to your party also, and to that constitution to which you are devoted. It remains to range ourselves with the constitution as now existing, rather than, while striving for the old one, to find ourselves with none at all. Wherefore my desire is, dearest Cicero, that, supposing Pompey to be driven from this district also and compelled to seek other quarters, you should betake yourself to Athens or any peaceful city you choose. If you decide to do so, pray write and tell me, that I may, if I possibly can, hurry to your side. Whatever marks of consideration for your rank have to be obtained from the commander-in-chief, such is Caesar's kindness, that it will be the easiest thing in the world for you to obtain them from him yourself: nevertheless, I think that a petition from me also will not be without considerable weight with him. I trust to your honour and kindness also to see that the letter-carrier whom I send to you may be enabled to return to me, and bring me a letter from you.

CCCCVIII. To Terentia (at Rome), Pompey's Camp in Epirus, 2 June

If you are well, I am glad. I am well. Pray be very careful about your illness: for I have been informed by both letter and messenger that you have suddenly contracted fever. I am much obliged for your prompt information as to Caesar's despatch. Continue, pray, in future to inform me of any news I ought to know, whatever occurs. Take care of your health. Good-bye. 2 June.

CCCCIX. To Atticus (at Rome), Camp of Pompey in Epirus, 13 June

What is going on here you will be able to ascertain from the bearer of your letter. I have detained him longer than I otherwise should, because I am in daily expectation of something happening, and even now I have, after all, no other motive for despatching him except the subject on which you asked for an answer from me, namely, my wish as to the 1st of July. Both courses are dangerous-either the risk of so large a sum of money at so critical a time, or the divorce, of which you speak, while the result of the campaign is still uncertain. Wherefore, I leave this, as I do other things, as absolutely as possible to your care and kindness, and to her consideration and wishes, for whose interests-poor girl I-I should have consulted better, if I had formerly deliberated with you personally on our safety and property rather than by letter. You say that in the common misfortune there is no danger threatening me more than anyone else. Well, there is some consolation certainly in that; yet there are also after all many circumstances peculiar to myself, which you must certainly see to be very dangerous and such as I might very easily have avoided. However, they will be less grave, if, as is the case at present, they are mitigated by your management and activity. The money is lodged with Egnatius. There, as far as I am concerned, let it remain. The present state of things cannot, I think, last long: so that I shall presently be able to know what it is most necessary to do. I am, however, hard put to it for every kind of thing, because he with whom I am is in straits too, and I have lent him a large sum of money, under the idea that, when things are settled, that measure will be to my honour also. Yes, please, as before, if there are any persons whom you think ought to have a letter from me, compose one yourself. Remember me to your family. Take care of your health. First and foremost, as you say in your letter, by every means in your power be careful to see that nothing is wanting to her, on whose account you know that I am most unhappy. From the camp. 13 June.

CCCCX. To Terentia (at Rome), Pompey's Camp in Epirus, June

If you are well, I am glad. I am well. Do your best to recover. As far as time and circumstance permit, provide for and conduct all necessary business, and as often as possible write to me on all points. Good-bye.

CCCCXI. To Atticus (at Rome), Dyrrachium, July

I have received your letter by Isidorus, and two written subsequently. From the last in date I learn that the property did not sell. Pray, therefore, see that she is supplied by you. As to the estate at Frusino, always provided that I am destined to enjoy it, it will be a great convenience to me. You Complain of not getting a letter from me. My difficulty is lack of matter: I have nothing worth putting into a letter, for I am not at all satisfied with anything that is happening or anything that is being done. Oh that I had originally talked the matter over with you, instead of writing! Your property here, as far as I can, I protect with these people. The rest Celer will see to. Up to this time I have avoided every kind of function, the more so that it is impossible for anything to be done in a way suitable to my character and fortunes. You ask what fresh news there is. You will be able to learn from Isidorus. What remains to be done does not appear more difficult. Yes, pray, as you say in your letter, continue to give your attention to what you know to be my greatest wish. I am overpowered with anxiety, the result of which is extreme physical weakness also. When that is removed I shall join the man who is conducting the business, and is in a most hopeful state of mind. Brutus is friendly: he is extremely enthusiastic in the cause. This is as far as I can go on paper with prudence. Good-bye. About the second instalment, pray consider with every possible care what ought to be done, as I mentioned in the letter conveyed to you by Pollex.

CCCCXII. To Terentia, Epirus, 15 July

It is not very often that there is anyone to whom I can entrust a letter, nor have I anything that I am willing to write. From your letter last received I understand that no estate has been able to find a purchaser. Wherefore pray consider how the person may be satisfied whose claims you know that I wish satisfied. As for the gratitude which our daughter expresses to you, I am not surprised that your services to her are such, that she is able to thank you on good grounds. If Pollex has not yet started, turn him out as soon as you can. Take care of your health. 15 July. [There is now a break in the correspondence for more than three months, in the course of which the fate of the Republic was decided. On the 7th of July, Caesar, after Pompey had pierced his lines and inflicted a defeat upon him, retreated into Thessaly. Pompey's exultant followers forced him to follow, and on the 9th of August the battle of Pharsalia drove Pompey to his retreat and death in Egypt, and made Caesar master of the Empire. The fleet, indeed, still held out, and took those of the Pompeians who had not been in the battle or had escaped from it to Africa and Spain. But Cicero (who was with the fleet at Corcyra) refused to join in continuing the war, and after staying some time at Patrae returned to Brundisium, having, it appears, received Caesar's permission through Dolabella to do so. At Brundisium, however, he waited many months, not venturing to approach Rome till Caesar's will was known. It is during his residence at Brundisium that the next thirty-three letters are written. The dates are according to the unreformed calendar—in advance of the true time as much perhaps as two months.)

CCCCXIII. To Terentia (at Rome), Brundisium, 4 November

You say that you are glad of my safe arrival in Italy. I only hope you may continue to be glad. But I am afraid that, disordered as I was by mental anguish and the signal injuries which I have received, I have taken a step involving complications which I may find some difficulty in unravelling. Wherefore do your best to help me: yet what you can do I cannot think. It is no use your starting on a journey at such a time as this. The way is both long and unsafe; and I don't see what good you can do me if you do come. Good-bye. Brundisium, 4 November.

CCCCXIV. To Atticus (at Rome), Brundisium, 4 November

What the reasons were, and how distressing, peremptory, and unprecedented, which influenced me and compelled me to follow an impulsive feeling, so to speak, rather than deliberate thought, I cannot tell you in writing without the utmost anguish of mind. They were so powerful as to effect what you see. Accordingly I cannot think of anything to say to you about my affairs or to ask of you. The actual result and the upshot of the whole business is before you. I have myself gathered from your letters-both the one written in conjunction with others, and the one in your own name—that (as I saw independently) being in a manner unnerved by the unexpected turn of affairs, you are trying to find other methods of protecting me. You say in your letter that you think I ought to come nearer, and make my journey through the towns by night: but I cannot at all see how that can possibly be done. For neither have I suitable stopping-places, in which I could possibly pass all the hours of daylight, nor for the object which you have in view does it much matter whether men see me in a town or on the road. However, I will consider even this, as I shall other plans, to see how it can be most advantageously managed. For myself, owing to my extraordinary uneasiness both of body and mind, I have been incapable of composing numerous letters: I have only answered those who have written to me. Pray write to Basilus and to others to whom you think it proper-even to Servilius—in my name, and say whatever you think right. As to the long interval during which I have written nothing at all to you, you will understand from this letter that what I lacked was a subject to write about, not willingness to write. You ask about Vatinius. I should not have wanted attentions from him nor from anyone else either, if they could have found any way to be of use to me. Quintus was completely alienated from me at Patrae His son came thither also from Corcyra. From that place I presume that they have started with the rest.

CCCCXV. To Terentia (at Rome), Brundisium, 27 November

In the midst of my terrible sorrows Tullia's ill-health causes me acute agony. But about that I need not write to you at any greater length; for you, I know well, are no less anxious than myself. You wish me to come nearer the city, and I see that I must do so. I would have done it even before, but many difficulties prevented me, which are not even now removed. However, I am expecting a letter from Pomponius: please see that it is conveyed to me as soon as possible. Be sure you take care of your health.

CCCCXVI. To Atticus (at Rome), Brundisium, 27 November

I perceive that you are anxious both for your own and for our common fortunes, and above all for me and my sorrow, which, so far from being lessened by the association of yours with it, is thereby actually increased. Assuredly your sagacity has led you to divine the exact consolation that gives me the greatest relief. For you express approval of my policy, and say that in the circumstances what I did was the best thing I could do. You also add—what is of smaller importance in my eyes than your own opinion, and yet is not unimportant—that everybody else, everybody that is that matters, approves the step I have taken. If I thought that to be the case, it would lessen my pain. "Believe me," you say. I believe you of course, but I know how anxious you are to soothe my pain. Of abandoning the war I have not repented for a moment. So bloodthirsty were their sentiments, so close their alliance with barbarous tribes, that a scheme of proscription was formed-not against individuals, but whole classes—and the conviction was universally entertained by them that the property of you all was the prize of his victory. I say "you" advisedly: for even as to you personally there were never any but the harshest ideas. Wherefore I shall never repent of my decision: what I do repent of is my plan of procedure. I could have wished that I had rather remained in some town until invited to Italy. I should have exposed myself to less remark and have felt less pain; this particular regret would not have been wringing my heart. To lie idle at Brundisium is vexatious in every point of view. As to coming nearer the city, as you advise, how can I do so without the lictors given me by the people? They cannot be taken from me as long as I am possessed of my civil rights. These lictors, as a temporary measure, when approaching the town, I caused to mingle with the crowd with only sticks in their hands, to prevent any attack on the part of the soldiery. Since then I have confined myself to my house. I wrote to ask Oppius and Balbus to turn over in their minds as to how they thought that I should approach Rome. I think they will advise my doing so. For they undertake that Caesar will be anxious not only to preserve, but to enhance my position, and they exhort me to be of good courage, and to hope for the most distinguished treatment in all respects. This they pledge themselves to and affirm. Yet I should have felt more sure of it, if I had remained where I was. But I am harping upon what is past. Look therefore, I beg of you, to what remains to be done and investigate the case in conjunction with them; and if you think it necessary and they approve, let Trebonius and Pansa and anyone else be called into council, that Caesar's approbation of my step may be the better secured as having been taken in accordance with the opinion of his own friends, and let them write and tell Caesar that whatever I have done I have done in accordance with their judgment. My dear Tullia's ill-health and weakness frightens me to death. I gather that you are shewing her great attention, for which I am deeply grateful. I never had any doubt about what would be the end of Pompey. Such a complete despair of his success had taken possession of the minds of all the kings and nations, that I thought this would happen wherever he landed. I cannot but lament his fall: for I know him to have been honest, pure, and a man of principle. Am I to condole with you about Fannius? He used to indulge in mischievous talk about your remaining at Rome: while L. Lentulus had promised himself Hortensius's town house, Caesar's suburban villa, and an estate at Baiae. This sort of thing is going on upon this side in precisely the same way. The only difference is that in the former case there was no limit. For all who remained in Italy were held to be enemies. But I should like to talk over this some time or other when my mind is more at ease. I am told that my brother Quintus has started for Asia, to make his peace. About his son I have heard nothing. But ask Caesar's freedman Diochares, who brought the letter you mention from Alexandria. I have not seen him. He is said to have seen Quintus on his way—or perhaps in Asia itself. I am expecting a letter from you, as the occasion demands. Pray take care to get it conveyed to me as soon as possible. 27 November.

CCCCXVII. To Terentia (at Rome), Brundisium, 17 December

Sorrow for the illness both of Dolabella and Tullia is an addition to my other miseries. Every single thing goes wrong, and I don't know what to think or do about anything. Pray take care of your own and Tullia's health. Good-bye.

CCCCXVIII. To Atticus (at Rome), Brundisium, 17 December

I am much obliged for your letter, in which you have set forth with great care all that you thought had any bearing on my position. Is it the case then, as you say in your letter, that your friends think that I should retain my lictors on the ground that Sestius has been allowed to do so? But in his case I don't consider that his own lictors have been allowed him, but that lictors have been given him by Caesar himself. For I am told that he refuses to acknowledge any decrees of the Senate passed after the withdrawal of the tribunes. Wherefore he will be able without forfeiting his consistency to acknowledge my lictors. However, why should I talk about lictors, who am all but ordered to quit Italy? For Antony has sent me a copy of Caesar's letter to him, in which he says that "he has been told that Cato and L. Metellus had come to Italy, with the intention of living openly at Rome: that he disapproved of that, for fear of its being the cause of disturbances: and that all are forbidden to come to Italy except those whose case he had himself investigated." And on this point the language of the despatch is very strong. Accordingly, Antony in his letter to me begged me to excuse him: "he could not but obey that letter." Then I sent L. Lamia to him, to point out that Caesar had told Dolabella to write and bid me come to Italy at the first opportunity: that I had come in consequence of his letter. Thereupon he made a special exception in his edict of myself and Laelius by name. I had much rather he had not done that; for the exception itself could have been made without mentioning names. Oh, what endless, what formidable dangers! However, you are doing your best to mitigate them: and not without success,—the very fact that you take such pains to lessen my distress lessens it. Pray do not get tired of doing so as frequently as possible. Now, you will best succeed in your object, if you can persuade me to think that I have not entirely forfeited the good opinion of the loyalists. And yet what can you do in that regard? Nothing, of course. But if circumstances do give you any opportunity, that is what will best be able to console me. I see that at present this is impossible, but if any thing should turn up in the course of events, as in the present instance! It used to be said that I ought to have left the country with Pompey. His death has disarmed criticism on that sin of omission. But of all things the one most found wanting in me is that I have not gone to Africa. Now my view of the question was this,—I did not think that the constitution ought to be defended by foreign auxiliaries drawn from the most treacherous race, especially against an army that had been frequently victorious. They perhaps disapprove that view. For I hear that many loyalists have arrived in Africa, and I know that there were many there before. On this point I am much pressed. Here again I must trust to luck,—that Some of them, or, if possible, all should be found to prefer their personal safety. For if they stick to their colours and prevail, you perceive what my position will be. You will say, "What about them, if they are beaten?" Such a blow is more creditable to them. These are the thoughts that torture me. You did not explain in your letter why you do not prefer Sulpicius's policy to mine. Though it is not so reputable that of Cato, yet it is free from danger and vexation. The last case is that of those who remain in Achaia. Even they are in a better position than I am, in two respects: there are many together in one place; and, when they do come to Italy, they will come straight back to Rome. Pray continue your present efforts to soften these difficulties and to secure the approbation of as many as possible. You apologize for not coming to me: I however am well acquainted with your reasons, and I also think it to my advantage that you should be where you are, if only to make to the proper people—as you are actually doing—the representations that have to be made in my behalf. Above all pray observe this. I believe that there are a number of people who have reported or will report to Caesar either that I repent of the course I have adopted, or do not approve of what is now going on: and, though both statements are true, yet they are made by them from an unfriendly feeling to me, not because they have perceived them to be so. In regard to this everything depends on Balbus and Oppius supporting my cause, and on Caesar's kind disposition towards me being confirmed by frequent letters from them. Pray do your utmost to secure that. A second reason for my not wishing you to leave Rome is that you mention in your letter that Tullia implores your help. What a misfortune I What am I to say? What can I wish? I will be brief: for a sudden flood of tears stops me. I leave it to you. Do as you think right. Only be careful that at such a crisis as this there may be no danger to her safety. Pardon me, I beseech you: I cannot dwell on this topic any longer for tears and grief. I will only say that nothing is more soothing to my feelings than your affection for her. I am obliged to you for seeing to letters being sent to those to whom you think it necessary. I have seen a man who says that he saw young Quintus at Samos, and his father at Sicyon. They will easily obtain their pardons. I only hope that, as they will have seen Caesar first, they may choose to aid me with him as much as I should have wished to aid them, if I had had the power! You ask me not to be annoyed if there are any expressions in your letter likely to give me pain. Annoyed! Nay, I implore you to write everything to me with complete candour, as you do, and to do so as often as possible. Good-bye. 15 December.

CCCCXIX. To Terentia (at Rome), Brundisium, 25 December

If you are well, I am glad. I am well. If I had had anything to write to you about, I would have done so at greater length and more frequently. As it is, you see the state of my affairs. What the state of my feelings is you will be able to learn from Lepta and Trebatius. Be sure you take care of your own and Tullia's health. Good-bye.

CCCCXX. To Atticus (at Rome), Brundisium, 25 December

Though you of course see for yourself with what heavy anxieties I am consumed, yet you will be enlightened on that point by Lepta and Trebatius. I am being severely punished for my rashness, which you wish me to consider prudence; and I do not wish to prevent your maintaining that view and mentioning it in letters as often as possible. For your letter gives me sensible relief at such a time as this. You must exert yourself to the utmost by means of those who are favourably disposed to me and are influential with Caesar, especially by means of Balbus and Oppius, to induce them to write on my behalf as zealously as possible. For I am being attacked, as I hear, both by certain persons who are with him and by letter. We must counteract them as vigorously as the importance of the matter demands. Fufius is there, a very bitter enemy of mine. Quintus has sent his son not only to plead on his own behalf, but also to accuse me. He gives out that he is being assailed by me before Caesar, though Caesar himself and all his friends refute this. Indeed he never stops, wherever he is, heaping every kind of abuse upon me. Nothing has ever happened to me so much surpassing my worst expectations, nothing in these troubles that has given me so much pain. People who say that they heard them from his own lips, when he was publicly talking at Sicyon in the hearing of numerous persons, have reported some abominable things to me. You know his style, perhaps have even had personal experience of it: well, it is all now turned upon me. But I increase my sorrow by mentioning it, and perhaps do the same to you. Wherefore I return to what I was saying: take care that Balbus sends someone expressly for this purpose. Pray have letters sent in my name to whom you choose. Good-bye. 25 December.