Cicero - Anthony Everitt [86]
The exile indulged himself by translating his grief and shock into high rhetoric. “Has any man ever fallen from so fine a position, with so good a cause, so strong in resources of talent, prudence and influence, and in the support of all honest men? Can I forget what I was, or fail to feel what I am and what I have lost—rank, fame, children, fortune, brother?” One senses here less a broken man than an orator looking for an admiring audience.
When it came to the allocation of blame for what had been done to him, Cicero’s resentment overmastered him. His paranoia enriched with plausibility, he blamed the aristocrats in the Senate who had never accepted him as one of them and, he felt, had taken pleasure in abandoning him. He was particularly angry with his old rival Hortensius, who (he believed) had never forgiven him for outdoing him in the law courts. It was about such people that he complained to Atticus: “I will only say this, and I believe you know I am right: it was not enemies but jealous friends who ruined me.”
It was, of course, the First Triumvirate that was really to blame: the three had knowingly let Clodius engineer Cicero’s ruin. Curiously, though, Cicero said little against them and never directly criticized Pompey. Did he not see the link between his refusal to join the alliance and his subsequent political destruction? With the benefit of hindsight, the connection seems inescapable.
AS soon as he had settled down in Thessalonica, he sent off letters to various public figures, including one to Pompey. Although he was familiar with Pompey’s faults, he may have become too fond of him to credit his duplicity. More probably, he knew he would need his support in the future. Cicero was sure that at heart Pompey was no radical; sooner or later he would make common cause with the Senate. And in the short run, Cicero needed Pompey for a more practical reason. Without his active backing it was clear that he would never be allowed to return to Rome.
Atticus came in for his share of criticism. If only he had loved Cicero enough he would have given him better advice; instead he had “looked on and done nothing.” Atticus very sensibly paid no attention to this unfair jibe and went on doing all he could to help, even offering to place his personal fortune, now much augmented by the death of an “extremely difficult” but extremely wealthy uncle, at Cicero’s disposal. This was a gesture of some significance for, with the confiscation of his property, Cicero’s financial affairs were in a very poor state. Cicero’s letters to Atticus are full of practical advice, complaints and queries.
In June 58 the Senate attempted to pass a motion reprieving him, but a Tribune friendly to Clodius blocked it. In October eight Tribunes drafted a law to revoke the second of Clodius’s two laws (the one naming Cicero). It failed too, but Cicero was not too disappointed, for he thought it “carelessly drafted.” AS the year drew to a close he expressed growing worries about the Tribunes-Elect and the likely attitudes of the incoming Consuls. One of these was his old enemy Metellus Nepos, who had opened the sniping against him on the last day of his Consulship five years before.
However, Metellus agreed (more or less) to a reconciliation and the senior Consul, Publius Cornelius Lentulus Spinther, turned out to be a strong supporter. The Tribunes were sympathetic too. Atticus was successful in his informal role as campaign manager for Cicero’s recall. With his aptitude for networking and the freedom with which he could cross enemy lines, he gradually and discreetly pushed matters forward.
Even more helpful than Atticus was the deteriorating situation in Rome. Only a few weeks after Cicero’s melancholy departure for Greece, Clodius turned his attentions to Pompey and a supporter of his, the Consul Aulus Gabinius (a onetime friend of Catilina