Letter · August 47 BC · Brundisii

Ad Familiares 15.15

Ad Familiares 15.15

Headnote

Cicero to C. Cassius Longinus, written from Brundisium around the middle of Sextilis — Perseus dateline Scr. Brundisii circ. med. m. Sext. a. 707 (47), that is, mid-August 47 BC. Cicero has been stuck at Brundisium for the better part of a year, ever since he came back from Pompey’s camp after Pharsalus (August 48). Caesar, after Pharsalus, has spent the intervening months tangled in the Alexandrian war, then turning to deal with Pharnaces of Pontus at Zela — whence the famous veni, vidi, vici in early Sextilis — and is at last expected back in Italy. The African war, with Cato, Scipio Nasica, and Labienus holding out at Utica, is openly impending. Cassius, future tyrannicide and at this date already detached from the lost Pompeian cause, has been writing to Cicero from Italy and — as a former legate of Pompey who had reconciled with Caesar at the Hellespont — speaks with some authority as a fellow survivor.

The letter is the political confession of a man who has staked everything on one battle and lost. The first two sections defend the original logic of going over to Pompey (“a single battle, if not deciding the whole cause, then at any rate settling our personal judgement”) and trace what went wrong — not the engagement itself, but Caesar’s inability to follow up Pharsalus quickly, the lost year of Alexandria and Pontus, and the fact that some on the losing side now “scorn the very fact of being beaten” and are regrouping in Africa. The third section is a piece of bitter self-mockery: Cicero rushed back to Italy to “urge Caesar on toward peace while he was already running,” a proverbial phrase — and then Caesar was nowhere to be seen for a year. The closing line — “would that I had obeyed those earliest letters you sent from Luceria!” — refers to Cassius’s advice, in the days just after Caesar crossed the Rubicon, not to take the Pompeian side at all; the dignity that has been worn out in the long wait at Brundisium would, on that counsel, have been preserved without any of this misery.

Although both of us, from hope of peace and from hatred of the spilling of citizen blood, wished to stand aside from the obstinacy that war makes necessary, still — since I am taken to have been the first author of that plan — I owe it perhaps to render more to you myself than to expect from you. And yet, as I often have occasion to remind myself, our intimate conversation, mine with you and equally yours with me, brought us both to this same resolution: that we should treat a single battle, if not as deciding the whole cause, then at any rate as settling our personal judgement in the matter. Nor has anyone honestly faulted this view of ours, except those who think it better that the state should be wiped out altogether than survive diminished and crippled. For my part, I held out no hope to myself from its destruction, but a great hope from what would be left.
etsi uterque nostrum spe pacis et odio civilis sanguinis abesse a belli necessaria pertinacia voluit, tamen quoniam eius consili princeps ego fuisse videor, plus fortasse tibi praestare ipse debeo quam a te exspectare; etsi ut saepe soleo mecum recordari, sermo familiaris meus tecum et item mecum tuus adduxit utrumque nostrum ad id consilium, ut uno proelio putaremus, si non totam causam, at certe nostrum iudicium definiri convenire. neque quisquam hanc nostram sententiam vere umquam reprehendit praeter eos qui arbitrantur melius esse deleri omnino rem p. quam imminutam et debilitatam manere; ego autem ex interitu eius nullam spem scilicet mihi proponebam, ex reliquus magnam.
What has followed, however, has been such that one wonders less that these things should have happened than that we did not foresee them, or, being mortal men, could not divine. For my own part I confess my reckoning was this: that with that one battle, as if appointed by fate, fought, the victors would mean to consult the common safety, and the defeated their own; and I judged that each of these things turned on the speed of the victor. Had there been such speed, Africa would have known the same clemency that Asia found, and Achaea too — where you, I think, were yourself the legate and intercessor. As it is, opportunities have been let slip — and they count for most, particularly in civil wars; a year has come between, and has led some to hope for victory and others to scorn the very fact of being beaten. The whole blame for these evils Fortune carries; for who would have supposed that the Alexandrian war was to be tacked on at such length to this one, or that some Pharnaces or other was going to spread terror through Asia?
sed ea sunt consecuta, ut m agis mirum sit accidere illa potuisse quam nos non vidisse ea futura nec homines cum essemus, divinare potuisse. equidem fateor meam coniecturam hanc fuisse, ut illo quasi quodam fatali proelio facto et victores communi saluti consuli vellent et victi suae; utrumque autem positum esse arbitrabar in celeritate victoris. quae si fuisset, eandem clementiam experta esset Africa quam cognovit Asia, quam etiam Achaia te, ut opinor, ipso legato ac deprecatore. amissis autem temporibus, quae plurimum valent, praesertim in bellis civilibus, interpositus annus alios induxit ut victoriam sperarent, alios ut ipsum vinci contemnerent. atque horum malorum omnium culpam fortuna sustinet; quis enim aut Alexandrini belli tantam moram huic bello adiunctum iri aut nescio quem istum Pharnacem Asiae terrorem inlaturum putaret?
We, then, with the same plan have met different fortunes. You took the part of being in on the counsels and — the greatest relief to anxiety — of being able to look ahead in your mind to what was coming; I, who hurried to see Caesar in Italy (for so we used to think), and, on his return after preserving so many men of the highest standing, to “urge him on toward peace,” as the saying is, “while he was already running,” am as far from him as I could possibly be and have been throughout. As it is, I am taken up with the groaning of Italy and with the most miserable laments of the city; to which, perhaps, I might have brought some help, in my measure, you in yours, every man in his — had there been any authority on the spot.
nos tamen in consilio pari casu dissimili usi sumus. tu enim eam partem petisti, ut et consiliis interesses et, quod maxime curam levat, futura animo prospicere posses; ego qui festinavi ut Caesarem in Italia viderem (sic enim arbitrabamur) eumque multis honestissimis viris conservatis redeuntem ad pacem ’currentem,’ ut aiunt, ’incitarem,’ ab illo longissime et absum et afui. versor autem in gemitu Italiae et in urbis miserrimis querelis; quibus aliquid opis fortasse ego pro mea, tu pro tua, pro sua quisque parte ferre potuisset, si auctor adfuisset.
Therefore, in the long-standing goodwill you have shown me, I should be glad if you would write to me what you see, what you feel, what you think we should look forward to and what we should do. Your letters will mean much to me; and would that I had obeyed those earliest ones you sent from Luceria! For then I should have kept my dignity without any vexation at all.
qua re velim pro tua perpetua erga me benevolentia scribas ad me quid videas, quid sentias, quid exspectandum, quid agendum nobis existimes. Magni erunt mihi tuae litterae atque utinam primis illis quas Luceria miseras paruissem! sine ulla enim molestia dignitatem meam retinuissem.

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Ad Familiares 15.15

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