Ad Atticum 5.21
Ad Atticum 5.21
Headnote
Cicero to Atticus, written from Laodicea on the Ides of February (13 February) 50 BC (Perseus dateline: Scr. Laodiceae Id. Febr. a. 704 (50)). It is the second winter of the Cilician proconsulship. Atticus has finished his crossing into Epirus and is wintering there; Cicero has come down out of the Taurus to the assize town of Laodicea to begin the spring circuit of his courts. The letter is a long, settled, deliberate one — the kind he writes when he has the table to himself and his secretary at his elbow — and covers in turn the Parthian situation, the worry that his command will be prorogued, the moral economy of his administration, the year’s judicial itinerary, the great affair of Brutus and the Salaminian creditors, and a closing flurry of household business. It is one of the load-bearing letters of the proconsular correspondence: the moneylending case in particular will hover over the Brutus correspondence to come.
The first half of the letter is governed by an old Ciceronian theme dressed in new clothes. He has governed his province at three-and-a-quarter percent where his predecessors took whatever the market would bear; he has refused to billet troops in winter quarters on communities that would pay to be spared them; he has forbidden statues, shrines, four-horse chariots and the rest of the honorific apparatus by which Roman governors were customarily flattered into avarice. He says this to Atticus because Atticus is the one man in Rome with whom he can say it without performance: “you yourself wished me to do these things.” And he says it because the famine that has fallen on Asia made the test sharp: he extracted grain not by force or judgement but by authority and exhortation. The detail about L. Tullius — a lieutenant who broke the Julian law in transit “only once a day,” not, as others did, in every village — is meant as comedy, not as confession.
Then comes the great business with which the letter is most identified. Brutus, through his agents M. Scaptius and P. Matinius, had advanced money to the community of Salamis in Cyprus at forty-eight percent compound interest, four percent per month. This was flagrantly above the twelve percent ceiling of the lex Gabinia on provincial loans; the loan had been protected only by two senatorial decrees of 56 BC, which Brutus’s connections had procured and which exempted this one bond from the cap. Appius Claudius, Cicero’s predecessor, had given Scaptius a prefecture and a troop of cavalry with which to bully the Salaminians into paying. Cicero finds, on arrival, that his own standing edict caps interest at twelve percent with annual compounding; that the Salaminians can in fact pay; that they offer to deposit the money in a temple if Scaptius will not take it at the legal rate; and that Scaptius is fighting on, demanding the higher rate by force of the senatorial decree. Cicero withdraws the cavalry, refuses Scaptius a new prefecture (“I give one to no man in business”), and freezes the case at his edict’s twelve percent. The episode is the great hinge of his self-image as governor: Brutus’s friendship was at stake, and Cicero would not bend the rule for him. The reader of the Brutus correspondence later — and of the letters that record Atticus’s own embarrassment at having to mediate — should keep this scene in view.
The closing flicker is the Tullia question. The [Greek: secret-of-the-house matter] is the choice of a third husband for his daughter; Cicero is canvassing Atticus’s preference between the son of Postumia (Servius Sulpicius’s wife) and an arrangement proposed through Pontidia. (The choice will in the end fall on neither — Tullia and her mother will settle on Dolabella in his absence, to his complicated later feelings.) Then a note about the Eleusinian Mysteries, and the calendar question — whether Rome has inserted an intercalary month — on which the date of the Mysteries, and therefore Atticus’s movements, will turn. The letter trails off, as the long deliberate letters often do, into the small fabric of practical concerns through which the great matters had to be carried.