Octavian now stepped boldly forward with a determined, though still a dissembling, front. Whether he had actually engaged in a plot against the consul's life early in October and hired assassins to slay his rival cannot be satisfactorily ascertained. Even at the moment the charge was not generally believed, for the shrewdest observers saw that it was not to Octavian's advantage that Antonius should be got out of the way at present, inasmuch as his removal would have cleared the path for the Republicans and ruined Octavian's ulterior designs. But the withdrawal of Antonius to Brundisium to place himself at the head of the legions was a step which bore only one interpretation. Everyone in Rome knew that the consul intended to return with a powerful army at his back, which would enable him to dictate what terms he chose. Octavian, therefore, betook himself to Campania, where he set about collecting an army from the veterans of Caesar. He met with astonishing success. As he passed through the military colonies he issued a summons to arms which was responded to with alacrity. The old soldiers came trooping round him, animated by a fierce desire to avenge the Ides of March, and attracted to the young heir at once by the name he bore, by his ingratiating manners, and by the liberal donative of two thousand sesterces which he promised to all who joined his standard. Tired of the humdrum life of the country and the monotonous labor of their farms, they looked forward again to the prospect of loot. Within a month Octavian had assembled a motley force of ten thousand men and marched towards Rome, arriving before the gates by the middle of November. The troops remained outside the walls, while their leader passed within and, entering the Forum, harangued the people against the consul, and offered himself as the defender of the Commonwealth.
The scene is described by Appian in a curious chapter which darkens rather than enlightens our understanding of what actually took place. For, according to his account, the veterans were dismayed to hear that they were to be asked to draw their swords against Antonius, and insisted upon the two Caesarian leaders' becoming reconciled. We are told that the majority of them refused for a time to obey Octavian's orders and were only won over to his designs by a liberal largesse. It would seem, indeed, if Appian's narrative is to be trusted, that Octavian had promised to lead them, not against Antonius but against the Conspirators, and that they believed that he and the Consul were acting in concert. Consequently, people began to suspect that Octavian's denunciations of the consul were a mere blind, and that it was settled between them that Antonius should have supreme power, while Octavian should be free to avenge the murder of his uncle and punish the enemies of his house. The chapter is important for two reasons. It emphasizes the extraordinary uncertainty which prevailed as to the motives actuating the protagonists of the drama, and it also serves to show the popularity of Antonius with Caesar's old troops. Be that as it may, Octavian marched his soldiers north, visiting Ravenna and the neighboring towns, and fixed his headquarters at Arretium, where his officers enrolled fresh recruits and applied themselves to the task of training, equipping, and organizing their men into legions, ready to take the field.
Antonius was acting with no less resolution than his rival. He left Rome, as we have seen, on October 9th, and proceeded at once to Brundisium where the four legions just transferred from Macedonia were now encamped. They did not give him the welcome he had expected, but sullenly called upon him to explain why he had failed to punish the murderers of Caesar. Antonius, who never lacked courage in the moment of danger, replied that they ought to thank him for securing their return to Italy and sparing them the dangers and hardships of a Parthian campaign, declaimed against the rash, headstrong lad whose emissaries had tampered with their allegiance, and promised them a donative if they were loyal and well conducted. Then, finding that they still showed traces of a mutinous temper, he called for the muster rolls and put to death some of the more insubordinate. Shortly afterwards he broke up the camp, directed the officers to lead their men north in detachments along the coast road and concentrate at Ariminum, while he himself hurriedly returned to Rome. His presence there was urgently required. The capital had been thrown into confusion by the sudden appearance of the army of Octavian, now drawn off to the borders of Cisalpine Gaul, and by Octavian's offer to become the champion of the State. Antonius did not scruple to enter the city with an armed force and take military possession. He summoned a meeting of the Senate for November 28th and was on his way to the Curia when a messenger brought him word that the Martian Legion had gone over to Octavian. Before he had recovered from the shock another courier came running up to inform him that the Fourth Legion had also deserted him. It was a bitter and damaging blow, but the Consul, immediately the meeting was concluded, took horse and rode to Alba in the hope that he might even yet recall the mutineers to their allegiance. They, however, had shut the gates, and received him on his approach with a shower of arrows. Baffled in this, the consul increased his promised donative to two thousand sesterces — thereby equaling the offer of Octavian — and succeeded in keeping the remaining two Macedonian legions true to their colors. Then, feeling that the crisis had at last come and could no longer be postponed, Antonius proclaimed his intention of taking up the command of Cisalpine Gaul,which had been conferred upon him by the people, and called upon Decimus Brutus to withdraw. When the republican chief scornfully refused and denied his title, Antonius raised his standard at Tibur.
Rome was thus freed from the presence, though not from the menace, of the armies of Antonius and Octavian, and it was now open to Cicero to return and take his place in the Senate. For two months he had been wandering from villa to villa, busily engaged upon the "Second Philippic", polishing and repolishing its eloquent periods, and giving the razor edge to its terrible invective. To this and to philosophy he devoted most of his time, though his letter carriers and those of Atticus repassed one another constantly on the road between Puteoli and Rome. His ears were always listening anxiously for the latest news from the capital. His hopes were always ready to rise at the slightest ebb in the tide of Antonius' power. "Anything to crush the consul!" was his constant prayer, that raving madman who was striving to strangle the Republic, and would not tolerate even the bearing of a free man, to say nothing of free speech. "The Republic looks like getting its own again," he wrote on October 26th, but in the next sentence, taught by the disappointments of the last six months, he cautiously added, "yet we must not shout till we are out of the wood." Cicero had at length come to see how thick the wood was and how difficult of egress. There was, indeed, but a single way out, and that was full of perils. It was to accept the overtures of Octavian.
Octavian had already offered himself in the Roman Forum as the champion of the Republic against Antonius. He now strove with all his power to win over Cicero. When he was making his tour through Campania to raise the veterans, he constantly wrote to Cicero asking for advice and counsel. He desired a private interview at Capua. He wished to know whether he had better intercept Antonius' advance from Brundisium by holding Capua, or return directly to Rome. He repeatedly urged Cicero to go back and take his place in the Senate, and in every letter he pledged his word to act through the Senate in accordance with constitutional practice. Cicero was torn with conflicting doubts and hopes. He welcomed without reservation the growth of a new power which might counterbalance that of Antonius. He was favorably disposed to Octavian and delighted with his promise to act through the Senate on the lines which Cicero himself had laid down. But could he place any rehance on the word of a Caesar? Ought he, who was the embodiment of caution, to accept the offer of an impetuous youth? "He is insistent; I still have my doubts." Why, he asks sorrowfully, is not Brutus here, now that there is a chance of rallying the good citizens? "Oh! Brutus, where are you? What a chance in a million you are losing! I thought something of the sort would happen, but never guessed it would be as it is."
Early in November, he is still hesitating. He is equally impressed and delighted by the astonishing enthusiasm which the Italian municipalities have displayed towards "the boy." He admires the vigor with which he is acting and the boldness with which he meets difficulties. Yet he is still certain that Antonius is the stronger of the two, and cannot help feeling that Octavian is, after all, a mere lad. "Est plane puer," he writes, with a touch of contemptuous scorn, when Octavian suggests that he may be able to get the senators to come together and resist Antonius to his face. Cicero pooh-poohs the idea as absurd, for experience had taught him that the Senate was a sorry staff to lean upon in a moment of danger. So a few days later he again takes up the theme. "The youth has plenty of spirit, but he lacks authority. There is no weight behind him." The shrewd Atticus, too, was pointing out the danger of trusting too implicitly in the professions of Octavian. "If," he said, "the lad gets much power, then the acta of the tyrant will be confirmed much more decisively than they were in the Temple of Tellus (i. e., at the meeting of the Senate on March 17th), and that will be a direct blow to Brutus. On the other hand, if he is beaten, Antonius will become intolerable." Cicero, therefore, was on the horns of a dilemma. Octavian had given Antonius some fine thumping blows (belle iste puer retundit Antonium), yet, on the other hand, in his harangues to the people he had made constant appeals to Caesar, and Cicero was not inclined to accept his offers unreservedly unless he were completely satisfied that Octavian would be not only not hostile to the tyrannicides, but actively their friend. Cicero was magnificently loyal to the Conspirators.
The month of November slowly passed. Cicero moved nearer and nearer to Rome anxious, above all things, not to fall in with Antonius, who was rushing hither and thither "with Caesarian rapidity," and finally, when Antonius had gone off to the borders of Cisalpine Gaul with his army, Cicero entered the city on December 9th. But before he passed within its walls, he took from his desk the "Second Philippic" and published it to the world. Thenceforward there could be no possibility of reconciliation or accommodation between them. The effect of its publication was instantaneous. Antonius was both hated and feared. He had no popular following. His power lay in the swords of the legions which he had bought over to his service, and in his position as the chief magistrate of Rome. Cicero in this pamphlet painted his character in the blackest colors, assailed him as the enemy of his country, and called upon all good citizens to unite for his overthrow. It was more than a political manifesto. It was a direct call to arms, and the writer stood forward as the champion of the Republic. For the next seven months Cicero was the leader of the constitutionalist party. Upon him, and not upon the absent Brutus, the hopes of the Optimates rested.
We may pass rapidly over the events in Rome during the remainder of the year. The capital was deserted by its principal magistrates. Antonius, the consul, was besieging Decimus Brutus in Mutina. Dolabella, his colleague, had already gone to Syria to possess himself of his province. Of the praetors, Brutus and Cassius had long been absent, and Gaius Antonius had sailed to seize Macedonia in his brother's interests. But the new tribunes entered peacefully upon their duties on December 10th, and one of these, Marcus Servilius, called a meeting of the Senate for the 20th to debate what steps should be taken for the public security until Hirtius and Pansa, the consuls-designate, took over the consulship on January 1st. Cicero flung himself with wholehearted vigor into the breach. He took upon himself the duties of the executive government. At the meeting on the 20th, he delivered the "Third Philippic" before a full house, and then, passing into the Forum, harangued the crowd with the "Fourth." He found the Senate willing to accept his strong lead against Antonius. They decreed their solemn thanks to Octavian and his veterans, to the two legions which had deserted Antonius, and to Decimus Brutus for the confident front he was showing in Cisalpine Gaul. Cicero's rhetoric was irresistible. The people in the Forum shouted that he had twice saved the State, and he himself believed that upon that glorious day he had laid anew the foundations of a free republic.
At last on January 1st, the two new consuls entered upon their office. Antonius was no longer the chief magistrate of the year with power to raise levies, and, in Cicero's opinion, he ought to be crushed at once. Consequently, at the meeting of the Senate, the orator insisted that Antonius should be declared a public enemy and that war should be declared without delay. Cicero was undoubtedly right and the policy which he advocated in the "Fifth Philippic" was sound. He would have no parley with Antonius. If the ex-consul wanted peace, let him lay down his arms. If he was not an enemy to the state, let him obey the Senate. Cicero, by this time, had fully persuaded himself of the sincerity of Octavian's professions of loyalty, or, if any doubts still lingered in his mind, he had determined to keep them in the background. Hence the glowing eulogy of the young champion of the Republic which appears in the "Fifth Philippic" and the famous passage which, even after the lapse of so many centuries, it is difficult to read unmoved as we recall the ironic sequel.
"I know intimately the young man's every feeling. Nothing is dearer to him than the Free State; nothing has more weight with him than your influence; nothing is more desired by him than the good opinion of virtuous men; nothing is more delightful to him than true glory. Therefore, so far from your having any right to be afraid of him, you should rather expect from him greater and nobler services; nor should you apprehend, in the case of one who has gone to free Decimus Brutus from being besieged, that any memory of private affliction will remain and have greater weight with him than the safety of the State. I venture to pledge my word, senators, to you and to the Roman people and to the State and assuredly, were the case different, I should not venture to do so, as no force compels me, and in such an important matter I dread being thought dangerously rash — I promise, I undertake, I pledge my word that Gaius Caesar will always be as loyal a citizen as he is today, and as our most fervent wishes and prayers desire."
Cicero, in other words, had staked his all on the loyalty of Octavian. Yet he failed to screw the courage of the Senate up to the point of declaring war against Antonius. There were many in the Senate who thought that the balance of military power inclined to the ex-consul's side and did not wish to push matters to extremes. There were others, again, who distrusted Octavian, while a large number of moderate men had friends and relatives in both camps. Moreover, Cicero, despite his eloquence, was never implicitly trusted by the Optimates. Repeatedly, during his long career, they had thrown him over at the critical moment, and so now again, after a long and frequently adjourned debate, they decided to send envoys to Antonius. It may have been some solace to Cicero that they adopted his proposals respecting the awards and honors for Octavian and Decimus Brutus, but he saw clearly enough that the embassy was futile and that precious time was being lost.
While events in Rome were shaping themselves thus, warlike operations had been for some weeks in progress in the north of Italy, though as yet no blood had been shed. Antonius had raised his standard at Tibur towards the end of November, and summoned Decimus Brutus to withdraw from Cisalpine Gaul. Decimus' only answer was to retire to Mutina and fortify it against attack. Before the end of the year, 44 B.C., Antonius had drawn his lines around the town and hoped to reduce it by siege, as it was too strong to capture by assault. Cisalpine Gaul, therefore, and the country about Mutina in particular, formed the arena in which the combatants were to fight out their quarrel. It is impossible, however, to understand the tortuous events of the next four months unless the state of affairs in the neighboring provinces is carefully borne in mind. Decimus Brutus, who was irrevocably committed to the republican cause by reason of his enmity to Antonius and the special hatred with which he was regarded by Caesar's veterans, commanded the support of the three legions which he had found in the province on taking it over from his predecessor, and he had raised numerous levies of raw troops. His nearest neighbor was Lucius Munatius Plancus, governor of Gallia Comata, who also had three legions under his command. Gallia Narbonensis and Hither Spain were under the control of Lepidus and four legions, while Further Spain was in the hands of Pollio with two legions. Much, therefore, depended upon the disposition and loyalty of these three provincial governors, who, between them, were masters of nine legions. Pollio, who was furthest removed from the scene, gave Cicero the most positive assurance of his loyalty, and seems to have been genuinely devoted to the republican cause. Lepidus was far less to be depended upon, and was strongly suspected of being in league with Antonius. It was to Plancus, therefore, who lay nearest to Mutina, that Cicero turned most frequently, and implored him to be true to his obvious duty to the Republic. But Plancus preferred to sit upon the fence and watch. He assured Cicero that he was doing all he possibly could for the good cause — but he did not move a step towards the assistance of Decimus Brutus. Yet he and Pollio and Lepidus were always apparently on the point of moving, always just about to throw their swords into the scale and, to the very end, Cicero never lost hope that they would intervene to crush Antonius.
In all other quarters the outlook was distinctly encouraging. The important province of Africa was held by the loyal Quintus Cornificius. In the East, the Republicans were prospering beyond all reasonable expectation, and had only suffered one setback in the murder of Trebonius, on February 2nd, by Dolabella, who had left Rome at the end of November, in order to secure his province of Syria before the arrival of Cassius. The murder was one of revolting barbarity and made a deep impression at Rome, where the Senate immediately declared Dolabella a public enemy and authorized Cassius to wage war against him. That able soldier soon made his presence felt. At the beginning of March 43, he was at Tarichea in Palestine and had no fewer than eleven legions under his command, for Lucius Murcus (who had been sent by Julius Caesar with three legions to quell the revolt of Caecilius Bassus, one of the lieutenants of Pompeius) and Quintus Crispus (the Governor of Bithynia, and Aulus Allienus, marching from Egypt) had joined their forces to his. Cassius, therefore, held the whole of Asia Minor for the Republic, and a few weeks later Dolabella committed suicide in despair, when blockaded and driven to bay in the city of Laodicea. Marcus Brutus was similarly engaged in Greece and Macedonia. He had thrown off his paralyzing indecision when he quit Italy. Greece welcomed him with open arms, and, rapidly collecting an army, he occupied Achaia, Macedonia, and Illyricum. Cicero was both delighted and surprised. "Our friend Brutus," he wrote to Cassius in February, "has gained a brilliant reputation, for his achievements have been remarkable and unlooked for, and, while welcome in themselves, they are all the more splendid on account of the swiftness with which they have followed one another." By a stroke of good fortune, Brutus had managed to take prisoner Gaius Antonius, his rival in the Macedonian command, whom he kept as a valuable hostage. Practically, therefore, by the beginning of March, the whole of the East was in republican hands, and this fact alone was sufficient to justify the high hopes which Cicero entertained. After the event it is easy to be wise, and the complete and crushing failure of Cicero's policy has provided subsequent historians with plentiful opportunities for indulging their sarcasm at the orator-statesman's expense. Most of these gibes are ill-founded and ill-deserved. With Marcus Brutus and Cassius holding the East, with Cornificius in Africa, with the armies of Octavian and Decimus Brutus near Mutina, Cicero had good warrant to feel confidence in the future, even though the loyalty of Lepidus, Plancus, and Pollio should prove a loyalty of words rather than of deeds.