Cicero (15 page)

He continued to be very busy in the law courts, where his dominance was confirmed by Hortensius's gradual withdrawal into a luxurious private life. He undertook no further prosecutions. Cicero led the defense in the trial of a provincial governor who faced corruption charges. Although probably a Verres on a small scale, he was presented as being completely innocent, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Cicero's conscience was clear; he took the view that an advocate's task was to win, not to uncover the truth. A
S
he observed towards the end of his life: “It is the judge's responsibility always to seek the truth in trials; while it is the advocate's to make out a case for what is probable, even if it doesn't precisely correspond to the truth.”

In 68 the surviving correspondence with his old school friend Atticus begins. For the first few years only a handful of letters survives (the flood starts in 61), but they provide our first direct insight into Cicero's personal life. Although Quintus, his younger brother, made no attempt to compete with him as a public speaker, he too set his sights on a political career and served as Quaestor. With Cicero playing matchmaker, Quintus had married Atticus's sister, Pomponia, a couple of years earlier. Both husband and wife were hot tempered and the relationship was stormy. Sexual chemistry seems to have been lacking. In November 68, Cicero reported to Atticus his attempts to act as marriage counselor. He was anxious that “my brother, Quintus, should feel towards her as a husband ought. Thinking that he was rather out of temper I sent him a letter designed to mollify him as a brother, advise him as my junior and scold him as a man on the wrong track.” His efforts seem to have had some success, for in the following year he reported that Pomponia was pregnant. She gave birth to a son, who, following Roman custom, was named after his father.

In the same letter we meet other members of the family for the first time: Cicero's wife, Terentia, who “has a bad attack of rheumatism,” and his daughter, “my darling little Tullia,” perhaps now seven or eight years
old. In the following year, she was formally engaged to Caius Calpurnius Piso Frugi, great-grandson of a distinguished historian and Consul. This aristocratic link was an important aspect of Cicero's plan to establish himself as a rising man in public life. The wedding took place some years later, in 62.

In 65 Cicero's second and last child, Marcus, was born. Cicero's father probably died at about this time, and so did his dearly loved cousin, Lucius, who had been with him in Greece and had helped him collect evidence against Verres. They had been very close. Cicero was deeply upset and told Atticus: “All the pleasure that one human being's kindness and charm can give another I had from him.”

The letters between the two friends show a growing interest in property investment. Atticus bought an estate near the town of Buthrotum in Epirus, across the strait from the island of Corcyra. Here he raised sheep, cattle and horses on a large scale. Cicero was not interested in farming; what he wanted was a country retreat, or more precisely a growing number of them, where he could refresh himself and renew his energies away from the noise and ceaseless social demands of Rome. He acquired a villa at Formiae, a fashionable seaside resort, and another at Tusculum, in the Alban Hills southeast of the city, which had once belonged to Sulla. Although the exact number is uncertain, Cicero ultimately owned at least nine villas and other real estate.

Of all his properties Tusculum was, and remained, his favorite. “I am delighted with my place at Tusculum, so much so that I feel content with myself when, and only when, I get there.” He spent large amounts of money on decoration and sculpture; he knew he was being extravagant, but could not stop himself. A hundred years later a citrus table of his was still in existence, which was reputed to have cost him the fabulous sum of 500,000 sesterces. He was always pestering Atticus in Greece to look out for any suitable
objets d'art
, and he used his uncomplaining friend as purchaser, shipping agent and artistic adviser. Contemporary taste favored the masterpieces of Greek art, whether copies or, more expensively, originals.

It is an interesting question how Cicero made his money. He inherited land and property from his father and Terentia's dowry had been handsome. But, as a Senator, he was not allowed to engage in trade or to invest money for interest; although many of his colleagues cheated or bent the rules, there is no evidence he did so. It was not the done thing to profit
from book sales and his record as a public administrator suggests that he resisted bribes. He was not allowed to charge legal fees. However, those whom he defended in the courts were expected to find ways of expressing their gratitude and many named him in their wills. Looking back at the end of his career, Cicero estimated that he had grossed 20 million sesterces in legacies, a very substantial sum, which would make him a multimillionaire by today's standards.

Cicero was becoming a man to reckon with in the Senate, as well as in the law courts. His provincial origins remained an obstacle in aristocratic circles, where he was looked down on as a pushy nobody. The time was approaching when he would be eligible for senior office and he could count on opposition from the great families. However, Cicero was not to be deterred. His dominance as a public speaker made him a household name and he could depend on support from his growing
clientela
among the commercial and mercantile class.

In the first permissible year he was elected at the age of forty to the Praetorship, taking office in 66. There was nothing to prevent public officials from accepting briefs in the courts and Cicero remained much in demand as an advocate. From this time on he stopped appearing in civil suits and specialized exclusively in the criminal law; he developed a particular expertise in two offenses which had political implications: improper influencing of voters (
ambitus
) and extortion in government (
crimen repetundarum
).

During his year as Praetor, Cicero appeared in an extraordinarily complicated multiple murder case, which threw a lurid light on vice and corruption in provincial society. He defended Aulus Cluentius Habitus, who was accused of poisoning his stepfather, Statius Albius Oppianicus. Most of his speech concentrated on a series of trials eight years earlier, when Cluentius had successfully prosecuted Oppianicus for attempting to murder
him
. Public opinion was on Oppianicus's side and Cicero had to show that the original verdict had been right. He took the jury step by step through Oppianicus's bizarre career, showing how, for personal gain, he had systematically killed eleven members either of his own family or of others into which he had married. Cicero made no effort to simplify the narrative and was happy to concede that, in the interests of his client, he had “wrapped the jury in darkness.”

The case also gave Cicero the opportunity to score a political point. During his defense of Cluentius he reinforced his reputation as a supporter of the
equites
by making flattering references to their importance as a class. Now that he was within sight of the Consulship, the apex of government, it was important to assure himself of their backing. A newcomer to the charmed circle of Roman politics, he had to maximize his support across the political spectrum if his candidacy was to have a chance of success. This meant somehow keeping on good terms with both the
populares
and the
optimates
, the radicals in the Assembly Ground and the diehards in the Senate. “You know the game I am playing,”
he confided to Atticus, “and how vital I think it not only to keep old friends but to win new ones.”

The most sensitive issue of the hour concerned the future role of Pompey, whose name was being put forward to take over the command of the Roman army in Asia Minor. In the years following Sulla's death, Mithridates of Pontus had gradually rebuilt his forces and raised the standard of revolt for a second time.

Cicero had to decide what line he was going to take about the proposed appointment. The
optimates
in the Senate were vehemently opposed. They had not forgiven Pompey for dismantling Sulla's reforms during his Consulship. It was not only this that annoyed traditionalists but his unstoppable subsequent progress as a general and administrator. In 67, in the face of furious Senatorial opposition, Pompey had been given a special command with wide-ranging powers covering all coastal regions to rid the Mediterranean of the growing scourge of piracy. The appointment had been so popular that the price of corn in Rome had immediately fallen. The operation had been expected to take some time, but through efficient organization Pompey had accomplished the task in three months.

Everyone could see that the crisis in Asia Minor called for military talent of the highest order. Since 74, an able general, Lucius Licinius Lucullus, had been campaigning against Mithridates with considerable success. Unfortunately, Lucullus had infuriated the Roman tax farmers by lowering taxation and now his soldiers, losing patience after eight years in the field, were in a state of mutiny. Despite his achievements, Lucullus clearly had to be replaced and Pompey was the obvious successor. With the victory over the pirates still ringing in everyone's ears, the Senate would be hard put to resist yet another special commission. But this was unlikely to stop it from trying.

Cicero decided to support Pompey. In 66, making the first political speech of his career, he addressed the General Assembly in favor of the appointment. His tone was fawning. Listing Pompey's achievements, he said: “Such is his unbelievable, superhuman genius as a commander. A little while back I was beginning to speak of his other qualities as well; and they too are as superlative as they are numerous.”
The Praetor and would-be Consul was walking a tricky line. His fundamental position was conservative, but, in light of growing social and political divisions, he recognized the urgent need for reconciliation. His real opinion of Pompey at this point is uncertain. The great commander had been often abroad and, although the two men were of the same age, Cicero had been too junior a figure until recently to have been worth cultivating.

The special command against Mithridates was not something Cicero would have cared much about in itself. Rather, the controversy gave him an opportunity to do two things: first, to establish himself as a man who could bring the different classes together and resolve their differences or, to use his musical metaphor, make the orchestra of Roman society play in tune; and second, to attract a broad base of support for his eventual candidacy for the Consulship. This meant winning the attention and the approval of the People while at the same time not unduly offending the Senate. At this point it was in his interest to present himself as something of a
popularis
, but he took great care to be polite to leading
optimates
. The speech was an early, unacknowledged opening of his election campaign.

The sincerity of Cicero's populism at this stage in his political development is hard to gauge. He was perfectly willing to support reforms but tended to see them as concessions to avert discontent rather than as desirable in their own right. Like many politicians before and after him, he was rather more open to radical ideas when campaigning for votes than he was when he no longer had to run for office.

Cicero's attempts to keep all sides happy nearly went adrift. It so happened that a number of
populares
appeared on various charges before his Praetorian court, and he did not want to spoil his credentials with the People by presiding over guilty verdicts. In one case that we know of, he managed to effect a condemnation without offending public opinion. He commented to Atticus: “My handling of C. Macer's case has won popular approval to a really quite extraordinary degree. Though I was favorably disposed to him, I gained far more from popular sentiment by his conviction
than I should have gained from his gratitude if he had been acquitted.”

He found himself in more serious trouble at the end of his year as Praetor. Cicero decided to postpone the trial of a Tribune who had recruited street gangs and intimidated the courts until after he left office. From his point of view, acquittal or conviction would be equally dangerous. The former would infuriate the Senate and the latter the People. However, the postponement backfired. At a public meeting voices from the crowd called him a “turncoat.” Taken aback, Cicero promised that he would defend the Tribune himself. Luckily, for some reason, the trial never took place.

In 65 he again braved Senatorial disapproval when he agreed to defend a former Tribune, Caius Cornelius, on a charge of treason—no doubt largely because he was a supporter of Pompey, whom Cicero wished to please. The trial was a
cause célèbre
and attracted much attention. Cicero's speech on Cornelius's behalf was a success and he was acquitted by a decisive majority. With great skill Cicero managed to ensure, as he told Atticus, “both that he did not assault the standing of his distinguished opponents and that he did not let the defendant be undermined by their influence.”

The Senate was not greatly perturbed. Cornelius was essentially a moderate and Cicero had few serious worries about helping him. However, he was openly suspicious of extremists and he took care to make this clear. Pompey and his supporters were one thing, the unscrupulous circle of radical politicians that had gathered around the multimillionaire Crassus was quite another. Cicero sided firmly with the
optimates
when Crassus proposed the annexation of Egypt, which had been left to Rome by the will of its last king. The richest man in Rome was also the greediest and had his eye on the fabulous riches of the Pharaohs. Cicero agreed with his fellow Senators that Crassus had to be stopped and spoke out vigorously against his insatiable pursuit of wealth. No action was taken to claim a bequest the Egyptians were certain to resist.

Cicero distrusted and disliked Crassus and his criticism of him was sincere; but it also conveniently enabled him to demonstrate that there was a point beyond which he would not go in his flirtation with
popularis
sentiment. He wanted the Senate to know that he could be trusted and that he was a conservative at heart.