The satires of Horace, translated by Niall Rudd (1973)

Take a thousand men, you’ll find
a thousand hobbies. Mine is enclosing words in metre.
(Satire 1, book 2)

Penguin classics translations are often old. This translation of Horace’s satires was first published in 1973, a date which evokes fond memories of David Essex and Glam Rock for me but it is, of course, 50 years ago, now, and the translator of this edition, Professor Niall Rudd, born in 1927, is as dead as his hero Horace.

Quintus Horatius Flaccus, usually referred to in English simply as Horace, was born in 65 BC and died in 8 BC. His life therefore spanned the transition of Rome from free republic to proto-empire under the first emperor, Augustus.

Horace was the son of a slave, who was granted his freedom and made a successful career as an auctioneer’s agent (Introduction page xvii), earning enough to send the boy Horace to a good school then on to Rome to study. Horace served as an officer in the republican army of Brutus and Cassius which was defeated at the Battle of Philippi in 42 by the allied forces of Octavian and Antony, but (obviously) survived and returned to Italy. (In Satire 1.6 Horace specifies that he was a tribune in charge of a legion in the army of Brutus, and the experience of seeing the republican ranks breaking and fleeing is described in two of his odes, 2.7 and 3.4.)

Back in Italy, Horace discovered his father was dead and his properties had been confiscated as part of the huge land appropriations carried out by Octavian after Philippi. Horace managed to get a job in the treasury and wrote poetry in his spare time (p.xvii). His verse came to the attention of Virgil, favourite poet of the new regime, who brought it to the attention of Augustus’s schoolboy friend and cultural commissar, Maecenas (an event described in satire 1.6). This was in 37 BC. Two years later Horace published his first book, of ten satires.

Maecenas realised Horace’s gift and became his patron, eventually buying him a large country estate , thus removing Horace’s money worries. Henceforth the poet mixed with the top rank of Roman society and its leading writers.

Horace is most famous for his odes, which have charmed and consoled readers for 2,000 years. They are wise and gracious. Some of them are extremely flattering to his lord and master Augustus, so a regular debating point about Horace’s poetry has been assessing how much he managed to keep his independence and how much he truckled to the wishes of the regime. The English poet John Dryden knew a thing or two about writing political poetry, so his opinion bears weight when he calls Horace ‘a well-mannered court slave.’

Apparently, scholars broadly agree the following dates for Horace’s poetry:

  • Satires 1 (c. 35 to 34 BC)
  • Satires 2 (c. 30 BC)
  • Epodes (30 BC)
  • Odes 1 to 3 (c. 23 BC)
  • Epistles 1 (c. 21 BC)
  • Carmen Saeculare (17 BC)
  • Epistles 2 (c. 11 BC)
  • Odes 4 (c. 11 BC)
  • Ars Poetica (c. 10 to 8 BC)

Less well known than the odes are Horace’s satires, written in elegantly crafted hexameters i.e. verse with six ‘feet’ or beats per line. There are two books of satires, book 1 containing 10 poems and book 2 containing 8 poems i.e. 18 satires in all.

This Penguin edition also contains Horace’s epistles, book 1 containing 20 epistles, book 2 containing two standard epistles and then the longer, third, epistle which is a treatise on the art of poetry, the Ars poetica in the Latin.

This Penguin edition contains three brief forewords which show how Professor Rudd successively revised his translations in 1979, 1996 and 2005, the latter edition in particular being comprehensively revised ‘to produce a smoother and lighter versification’.

Aspects of Horace’s satire

Satire as argument

Horace’s satires remind me a lot of Cicero’s law speeches in that they are arguments; more precisely a series of arguments strung together around a central topic. They are designed to persuade you or, maybe like Cicero’s speeches, to amuse and entertain the auditor while they go through the motions of persuading. They are a performance of persuading.

Dramatised

The second way they’re like Cicero is the way they routinely dramatise the text by inventing opponents, antagonists who make a point against Horace, his beliefs or his practice of poetry – so that Horace can then neatly refute them. For example the imaginary accuser in this excerpt:

‘You like giving pain,’
says a voice, ‘and you do it out of sheer malice.’ Where did you get
that slander to throw at me?

The invented antagonist is just one component of the surprisingly chatty, conversational, buttonholing tone of Horace’s satires.

Names

Another feature is the way Horace fleshes out general observations by embodying vices in certain named individuals. The notes to the book point out that we don’t know who most of these people are. My hunch would be that Horace invented them, gave them plausible names, added them to the rogues gallery or cast of characters which populate the satires. He gives this trick a down-home explanation by attributing it to his dad:

Yet if I’m a little outspoken or perhaps
too fond of a joke, I hope you’ll grant me that privilege.
My good father gave me the habit; to warn me off
he used to point out various vices by citing examples. (1.4)

The lyric poet tends to write about him or herself and their fine feelings. By contrast, Horace’s satires overflow with people, talking, jostling, lecturing him, criticising, talking back. Thus characters named Ummidius, Naevius, Nommentanus, Tigellius the singer, Fufidius, Maltinus, Rufillus, Cupiennius, Galba, Sallust, Marsaeus, Origo, Villius, Fausta, Longarenus, Cerinthus, Hypsaea, Catia, Philodemus, Lady Ilia, Countess Egeria, Fabius appear in just the first two satires.

As a whole, as a genre, the satires overflow with recognisable social types and characters, all jostling and arguing with him, like an urban crowd or maybe like a very packed house party at a rich man’s villa.

Anyway, the net effect is to make you, dear reader, feel as if you are in the swim, you are in the know, you are part of this smart set, fully informed of all the goings-on in Rome’s smartest circles. Sometimes Horace’s satires are like high society gossip columns.

The origin of satire

There has a been a lot of scholarly debate about the origin of the word and genre of ‘satire’. The Middle Ages thought it had something to do with satyrs, the half men, half goats of mythology. Nowadays, scholars think it derives from the Latin word satura. It is now seen as a development of the rough, rude, vulgar plays and written entertainments the Romans composed in the 3rd and 2nd centuries BC, before they were really exposed to the long-established forms of Greek literature.

But in his introduction, the translator, Professor Niall Rudd, makes an important distinction between satire and satura. The Greeks, obviously, had countless expressions of the satirical spirit; what they didn’t have was a genre named satura. The saturae that Horace wrote overlapped with the idea of satire, but not completely and not all the time. Saturae seem from the beginning to have been associated with the idea of medley and mixture. Rudd traces its origins from Naevius via Ennius, the first major Roman poet, to Lucilius, ‘the first European satirist’ (p.xi).

Horace himself refers to the key role played by the Roman poet Lucilius in inventing this genre. We know Lucilius died in 103 BC, because a state funeral was held for him, but nobody knows when he was born.

It is now routinely thought that Lucilius took ‘the rude inartistic medley, known to the Romans by the name of satura‘ and used it as a vehicle for the kind of aggressive and censorious criticism of persons, morals, manners, politics, literature, etc. which the word satire has denoted ever since.

The reason we’re not sure about any of this is because no single poem of Lucilius’s has survived. We know that he wrote some thirty books (!) of satires, but we only have fragments, admittedly a lot of fragments, some 1,300 (!), but which are mostly single lines taken out of context and quoted in the works of later grammarians.

Lucilius seems to have begun his career by ridiculing and parodying the conventional language of epic and tragic poetry, setting against it the ordinary language of educated men of his time. You can see how there would be something intrinsically humorous in juxtaposing the highflown language of epic and tragedy with the actual humdrum, rather shabby lives most of us lead.

And how it would be only a small step from that to devoting entire poems to the real social practices of his time, with sarcastic commentary on the intrigues of politics, the ubiquitous greed not only of the rich but of grasping merchants, the gossip and scandal about well-known figures, the perennial disapproval of other people’s sex lives, the equally perennial disapproval of other people’s gluttony and drunkenness, the ghastly vulgarity of the addle-headed mob who will follow any populist who throws them simple slogans, promises a better life, and so on.

But Rudd emphasises that Lucilius’s range was huge: the fragments include dramatic scenes, fables, sermons, dialogues, letters, epigrams, anecdotes and learned exposition. Medleys, indeed.

One other point: As part of mocking highfalutin’ language, Lucilius used the more ordinary speech of educated members of his society and, especially when talking about himself, used a relaxed, open and candid tone of voice, an informal, candid tone which Horace copies.

But Rudd’s discussion also raises a point which Horace himself repeatedly mentions, which is whether satire is even poetry at all, but more like a form of rhythmical prose. If the tone and subject matter become so casual and realistic, is it much more than rhythmic prose? Well, we can judge because in some translations Horace’s verse is changed into English prose and even a cursory glance at these shows you  that something is lost. This is a) the rhythmical pleasure which always comes from of reading lines of verse and b) admiration of his skill at coining a phrase, or turning a phrase, within the strict limitations of the metre. The display and performative aspects of verse are lost. Verse is better; it gives a more multi-levelled pleasure. When deciding what translations of these Roman poets to buy I always prefer the verse translation.

And so the genre of satire was born, the only literary genre the Romans could claim to have invented without Greek precedent.

Satire’s limitations

However, the most obvious thing about satire is it doesn’t work. American satirists ripped the piss out of Donald Trump during his bid to win the Republican nomination, then during his presidential campaign of 2015, and then, of course, during his entire 4 years in power. But in the November 2020 presidential election, the total number of votes for Donald Trump went up, from 62,984,828 to 74,216,154! So much for the tens of thousands of satirists, comedians, commentators, academics, film-makers, playwrights, novelists and so on who relentlessly mocked him for 4 years. Net result: his popularity increased!

Same with Boris Johnson in the UK. What brought him down was emphatically not the efforts of the thousands of liberal comedians and satirists relentlessly mocking his every move and word etc etc but the desertion of key allies in his own cabinet.

So if satire doesn’t change anything, what is it for? Well, obviously to entertain and amuse. But there’s another motive. If you really reflect on what the effect of reading Private Eye or being in the audience of some standup comedian is on the reader or audience, maybe the most obvious one is making them feel virtuous, making them feel an insider, in with the good guys, on the side of the angels.

I lost interest in, and then actively avoided, comedy programmes during the Trump presidency, because they became so lazy. All a joker had to do was make reference to Trump’s hair or hands or two or three of his most notorious quotes and the audience exploded with laughter. This is the risk with satire. You are preaching to the converted. You are telling them jokes they already know, mocking figures that everybody already mocks. It has no effect whatsoever on the target but makes its liberal audience feel warm and justified. Everyone else is laughing. It’s not just me.

But maybe by ‘everybody’ I mean mainly the well educated. The audience that finds the slightest reference to Trump howlingly funny is probably young, white, university educated. If we apply this model to Horace, we see that he overtly appeals to a similar readership – not to the uneducated mob, not to the corrupt politicians or greedy merchants he mocks: but to a hypothetical readership of People Like Us; educated, moderate, sensible, guilty of a few forgivable foibles maybe, but innocent of all grosser corruptions and turpitudes. Decent people, yes, we agree with Horace.

So a working model of satire is that it’s main purpose is both to entertain, sure, but also to reinforce the group identity and groupthink of its educated, middle class audience.

The other limitation of satire is the extreme narrowness of its range. The best novels take us to different places and different situations, into the minds and experiences of people drastically different from us, the readers. Lyric poetry can interweave acuteness of perception with psychological insight. Epic poetry transports our minds to the superhuman realm of gods and heroes. Whereas, on the whole, satire lacks subtlety, hitting its subjects with a mallet; and it is a narrow range of things.

In satire 1.4 (i.e. book 1, satire 4) Horace makes a provisional list of the kinds of people he mocks: the greedy, the ambitious, those sexually obsessed with married women or with boys; over-rich collectors of objets d’art in silver or bronze; merchants anxious about their shipments and the next deal. It’s a familiar list, indicative of the way human nature hasn’t changed much in 2,000 years, at least in civilised and complex societies. These societies seem to throw up the same types of character again and again, along with an audience of the non-rich, the non-perverted, the not-involved-in-politics, who enjoy being entertained by someone taking the mickey out of those members of society who are (rich, perverted,  incompetent politicians or corrupt businessmen).

So if satire’s targets are predictable, if the list of behaviours which are going to be mocked are known in advance, if it’s all as hackneyed as I’m suggesting, why is it not boring? Well, the answer is in the stylishness, zip and intelligence of the satirist, the vim and twist of their delivery. Plus – their sheer aggression. The best satire is malicious, so that beneath the jokes you sense real anger, and this controlled anger can also be entertaining.

As I’ve suggested it’s not necessarily the subject matter that’s original, it’s the way this anger is managed and shaped and directed that we appreciate. Football consists of 22 people kicking a ball around for 90 minutes, but within these fixed parameters there is scope for extraordinary displays of skill, unexpected bursts of brilliance. Ditto satire.

That’s why I eventually tuned out of comedians mocking Trump: it was too easy, he’s such a twerp that anyone can do it, you just have to read his tweets and any normal people would roar with laughter. But that made it so easy to mock him that comedians got lazy and comedy got boring and predictable to watch.

That and the other besetting sin of satirical comedy, which is the comics were sometimes so overcome with anger that they let it show. At which point they just become some drunk angry geezer who’s got you into a corner at a party.

So it’s a balancing act, satire: you’ve got to hit targets familiar enough for the audience to laugh in recognition but not so obvious as to become boring; you’ve got to display inventiveness and wit in hitting those targets; you mustn’t attack your audience, for the most part you have to reassure them that they’re on the side of the angels (although occasional good-natured jabs at the audience’s complacency keep things lively, but not too much).

And any genuine anger you feel must be reined in and channeled into the show, not openly displayed, sublimated into comic invention, because raw anger changes the tone from comedy to rant (although pure rants can itself be funny when taken to comic extremes, as in the famous absurdist rants of David Mitchell). Just saying you hate someone or are angry about this or that ceases to be art. Everyone’s angry about something these days.

So Horace’s satires display the kind of skill, variety and inventiveness which I’m suggesting good satire requires. They mock the usual suspects but often come at them from unexpected angles. And they do sometimes range a bit beyond the usual targets of satire into unexpected subject matter.

And this is often because they are describing a society which, although in some respects similar to ours (greedy rich people, corrupt politicians, who’s shagging who etc) in many other details is significantly different, and therein lies another pleasure in reading Horace – for the details of social history which pack the poems. Maybe this is best demonstrated by a brief summary of each of the satires.

Summary of Horace’s satires

Book 1

Satire 1 (121 lines)

Why do people work so hard and yet almost everybody is fed up with their job and would swap it in a moment for someone else’s? Is it to do with greed? The poem turns into a dialogue with a miser.

Satire 2 (134 lines)

About sexual morality, it seems to say that whereas some rich men prefer sex to have obstacles, such as seducing other men’s wives, the author likes to keep it simple and simply available.

Satire 3 (142 lines)

Numerous details of people being quick to criticise others (even their own friends behind their backs) yet hypocritically asking indulgence for their own flaws. It turns into a general point, which is that the punishment ought to fit the crime, arguing against Stoic doctrine that all crimes should be treated with equal severity. Because:

no-one is free from faults, the best is the man who is hampered by the smallest

Therefore:

Let’s have a fair penalty-scale for offences.

Satire 4 (143 lines)

Horace defends his writing of satires by claiming he writes very little, does not claim everyone’s attention, does not give public recitations, his writings are for his own improvement and amusement. He makes the significant point that satire is barely poetry at all, but more like rhythmic prose. He has an invented interlocutor accuse him of malice but refutes the accusation, contrasting himself with the kind of creep who gets drunk at a dinner party and abuses all his friends; now that’s malice. Then making the point that his father tried to teach him about life by pointing out men brought low by various flaws or low behaviour. His poetry is his notes to himself continuing that tradition.

Satire 5 (104 lines)

An amiable description of a journey Horace took from Rome to Brundisium, decorated with incidents and people encountered along the way, not least his good friend Virgil and his mates Plotius and Varius.

Satire 6 (131 lines)

On ambition and snobbery. Horace starts by thanking his patron, Maecenas who, although he came of pretty exalted parents, is free of snobbery. He laments his own position (‘only a freedman’s son, run down by all as only a freedman’s son’, l.46). This morphs into an extended tribute to his father who scrimped and saved to send him to the best school. Horace earns very big brownie points in a patriarchal society like Rome’s for his exemplary filial devotion. And then onto very attractive praise of the free and simple life he leads, being free of political office or ambition.

Satire 7 (35 lines)

A short piece telling the story of the half-breed Persius and the venomous outlaw Rupilius King. I didn’t understand the narrative but I could see that at various points he mocks their confrontation by comparing it to episodes in the Iliad, i.e. mock heroic, presumably to some extent echoing Lucilius’s mocking of high epic style.

Satire 8 (50 lines)

Spoken in the person of an old wooden statue of Priapus set up in the former common graveyard of the Esquiline Hill. Now, in line with Augustus’s policy of beautifying cities, Maecenas has converted the cemetery into pleasure gardens, hence, presumably, the commission to write a speech for the old statue. Half way through it unexpectedly changes into a vivid depiction of the sorcery and witchcraft the statue has been forced to observe late at night as hags tear a black lamb apart with their teeth and trying to summon the spirits of the dead from the resulting trench of blood.

The poem ends with the Priapus triumphantly telling us how, in the middle of their spells, he let rip an enormous fart and sent the witches scurrying off in fear. As usual Horace gives the witches names but, as usual, scholars have been unable to identify them with historical individuals.

The Latin for witch was saga.

Satire 9 (78 lines)

Comic anecdote about how he was strolling out one day when he was accosted by an aspiring writer who begs an introduction to Maecenas and won’t leave him alone. He drolly comments that a soothsayer (‘a Sabine crone’) predicted he wouldn’t die or any ordinary ailment, but was fated to be bored to death!

The pest pesters him for insights about Maecenas who Horace proceeds to describe as a fine example of a wise and moderate man who has made the best of his fate (what else was he going to say?) A friend of Horace’s joins them but, realising what’s up, playfully refuses to intervene or help him by agreeing to a private conversation.

In the end it appears the pest is due in court and his opponent now spots him and roars, ‘why isn’t he in court?’ It ends with a few obscure lines in which the opponent asks whether Horace will act as a witness (to what? why?) and Horace allows the opponent to touch his ear (why?), hustles the pest off to court, while people come running and shouting from every side. (Why?)

Satire 10 (92 lines)

Horace’s fullest statement of his own theory of satire. The poem opens with him answering critics who have obviously objected to his comments in 1.4 about Licinius’s lines being ‘rough’. What you need for satire is:

  • terseness, the opposite of verbosity
  • a flexible style, sometimes severely moralising, sometimes light-hearted
  • humour is often better at dealing with knotty issues than sharpness (as we saw in many of Cicero’s legal speeches)

He creates the kind of puppet interlocutors I mentioned above in order to refute or address their points. A critic praises him for blending Latin with Greek but Horace says that’s very outdated now. Catullus used Greek phraseology to introduce sensuality into his poetry. Horace eschews Greek, preferring only Latin. He says Greek is banned in law court, implying a comparison, implying satire is at least as serious as legal pleading.

Horace attributes the founding of satire to Lucinius (line 48) and replies to his critics that if Licinius were alive in Horace’s day, he’d have to make a significant effort to slim down his verse and polish it. Then more rules:

  • if you hope for a second reading of your work, delete and edit
  • don’t seek mass adulation, be content with a few, informed, readers

How many readers should the poet aim for? Strikingly, Horace names 14 individuals ‘and several others’, suggesting that he is writing for an audience of about 20 people.

The poem, and so the first book of satires, ends with an instruction to a slave to take this poem away and add it to ‘my little volume’.

Book 2

Satire 1 (86 lines)

Dialogue with Trebatius, an imaginary legal expert, giving Horace the opportunity to defend his practice of satire. In the poem Trebatius gives Horace a series of sensible suggestions which the poet comically complains he can’t implement.

It starts with Horace saying he is attacked from al sides for either stretching the genre beyond its limit or, alternatively, writing too much. Trebatius advises he take a rest. Not a bad idea, but he can’t get to sleep at nights and finds writing soothing. Trebatius advises he try swimming the Tiber three times or souse himself in wine; if he still needs to write, how about a history of the triumphs of Caesar? Even if he does a bad job it won’t rouse the anger of his victims as satire does.

Again he namechecks Lucilius as his forebear and a better man than either of them. He asks Jupiter for a quiet life but if anyone crosses him, he’ll make them the laughing stock of Rome.

Lucilius stripped away the facade of the great and the good parading through Rome and yet he still enjoyed the friendship of that hero Scipio Africanus and his wise friend, Laelius (the culture heroes who Cicero chose to set some of his philosophical dialogues among).

It ends abruptly as Trebatius warns Horace that if he composes foul verses to the detriment of someone’s reputation he can expect to end up in court; to which Horace replies that he composes fine verses which a) please Augustus b) only target public menaces.

Satire 2 (136 lines)

A sermon on the virtues of the simple life put into the mouth of Ofellus, a peasant Horace knew in his youth. The basic idea is that a good appetite comes from the body, comes from exercise and bodily need, making redundant the increasingly exquisite choices of Rome’s notorious gourmands and gluttons. Horace reserves an insult for ‘the youth of Rome’, ‘always amenable to any perverse suggestion’.

A simple diet needn’t be a stingy one, which allows him to lampoon misers who serve musty old food. The benefits of a simple diet include health, avoiding sickly excess, compared to gluttons who come away green from rich meals. When he’s ill or as he gets old, the simple man can treat himself, but the glutton has used up all his treats.

A rich man should spend his money to help out the deserving poor or pay to rebuild old temples?

Who will fare better in a crisis, the spoiled man used to luxury, or the simple man with few needs who has prepared his mind and body for adversity?

Interestingly for social historians, Horace has his boyhood farmer friend, Ofellus, recount in some detail how his farm was confiscated as part of Octavius’s policy of reassigning property to demobbed soldiers after his victory at Philippis (42 BC). Compare this with the bitter descriptions of land confiscation in Virgil’s Eclogues.

Satire 3 (326 lines)

By far the longest satire. Horace is spending the holiday of Saturnalia on his Sabine farm when a guest arrives, Damasippus. The poem opens with Damasippus accusing Horace of fleeing the city but failing to write a line i.e. having writer’s block. Damasippus goes on to describe how his business as an art dealer went bankrupt and he was standing on a bridge over the Tiber thinking about throwing himself in, when he was buttonholed and saved by a Stoic thinker, Stertinius.

With the zeal of a convert to the faith Damasippus proceeds to deliver a sermon on the text ‘everyone is mad except the sage’, asserting that loads of human vices, including greed, ambition, self indulgence and superstition, are all forms of madness.

Being so long exposes the fact, less obvious in shorter poems, that it’s often hard to make out what’s meant to be going on, and difficult to follow the presumed flow of thought or narrative. Stories come in unexpectedly, with characters we don’t fully know, obscure references being made we know not why. Presumably his audience found that the logic of the arguments flowed smoothly and sweetly, but I found this one impossible to follow.

It’s the biggest problem with ancient literature, that the reader has a good rough feel for what the author is on about but is often perplexed by an apparent lack of logical flow and ends up reading a series of sentences, sometimes themselves very obscure, which don’t really seem to explain or convey anything. There are passages where you just zone out because you’ve lost the thread of the grammar or argument.

Satire 4 (95 lines)

Horace is given a lecture on gastronomy by Catius who has just attended a lecture on the subject. There’s no satire or attitude, the entire thing is a very detailed list of which type of food, how to store and cook and serve it; it’s like a guidebook and, as such, sort of interesting social history. Most of the actual cooking, like the instructions for preparing the best oil for cooking, sound complex and pointless. It includes the kind of rubbish pseudoscience the ancients delighted in (Aristotle believed that round eggs were male and long eggs were female etc).

Satire 5 (110 lines)

A satire on how to get money, in an interestingly imaginative setting. This is a dramatic dialogue set in hell between Ulysses who has gone down to hell, as described in Homer’s Odyssey, book 11, and the wise blind seer Tiresias who he meets there.

Ulysses is afraid of returning home penniless, so Tiresias gives him advice on how to pick up money. The satire lies in the cynical worldliness of the advice. Thus: if you’re given a thrush or a similar present, present it to the household of the nearest rich, old man. Apples and other fruit from your farm, give to a rich man first. He may be a crook or a murder, doesn’t matter; butter him up.

Fish around for old men’s wills. If a law case comes up volunteer to help any party who is old and childless, regardless of the rights or wrongs. Tell the old geezer to go home while you manage his affairs for him. If you do well other fish will swim into your net.

Or find a man with a delicate, sickly son and worm your way into his affections, with the hope that the sickly son dies and you inherit. If the old guy offers you a look at the will, blithely wave it away as if of no interest. If he writes terrible poetry, praise it. If he is an old lecher, don’t hesitate to hand over your wife. And so on, all painting a picture of the untrammelled greed and corruption of contemporary Rome.

But what if Penelope is pure and moral? Offer her a share of the takings, she’ll agree to prostitute herself quickly enough. Even after the old boy’s died and you’ve inherited some of the fortune, make a show of building a decent tomb, if other heirs need financial help offer it: the more you plough, the more you sow.

Satire 6 (117 lines)

Written in 31 BC 3 or 4 years after Maecenas removed all Horace’s money worries by presenting him with a farm in Sabine country. It is a straightforward comparison of the advantages of country life versus the stress of the city, much imitated by later authors.

There’s some reference to the hurly burly of business, of being accosted in the street and the forum and asked for this or that favour. But a lot of it revolves around his friendship with Maecenas, endless petitioners asking his opinion about this or that state policy, because they know he is friends with Maecenas, who was Octavian’s deputy on his absence during the final war against Antony. When Horace claims to know nothing, the petitioners are upset or angry, convinced he does but is refusing to share.

How much nicer to be at his country place, to enjoy a simple but filling dinner, and then interesting, unrancorous conversation with good friends. Unexpectedly, the poem ends with a retelling of the proverbial story of the town mouse and the country mouse.

Satire 7 (118 lines)

Another sermon on a Stoic theme. As with some of the others, I found the exact structure confusing. I think Horace’s slave, Davus, delivers an extended sermon invoking Stoic doctrine to assert that Horace is just as a much a ‘slave’ to his passions and habits as Davus is an actual, literal slave.

Satire 8 (95 lines)

Another dialogue which goes straight into an ongoing conversation, as the poet tells his friend Fundanius that he knows he was at a dinner party given by the arriviste, Nasidienus Rufus, for Maecenas and some others last night: what was it like?

Fundanius gives a wry description of the over-fussy meal, with its multiple courses of ridiculous luxury, plus an absurd over-selection of wines. Two of the guests decide to wind the host up by drinking vast mugs full of the very expensive wine and the pretentious fish dish has only just been served when the awning, presumably over the whole party, collapsed, causing a great cloud of black pepper. Nobody is harmed, the awning is fixed. The host wants to abandon it but Nomentanus persuaded their host to continue and the meal proceeds

The guests bend to each others’ ears and whisper gossip and criticism. I feel sorry for Nasidienus with such ungrateful badly-mannered guests. Then the extravagant culinary pièces-de-resistance are brought in, namely crane, goose liver and hare’s legs – but the narrator ends the poem by saying the guests got their own back on the arriviste by leaving without touching a thing. Pretty mean but vivid indication of the snobbery which was central to life in Rome’s educated classes.

Summary

I’m very glad I made the effort to track down and buy this Rudd edition. The satires are astonishingly personable and accessible, even if some patches are (to me) incomprehensible, on either a first or second reading.


Credit

Niall Rudd’s translation of the satires of Horace and Persius was published by Penguin books in 1973. A revised edition with Horace’s epistles was published in 1979. All references are to the 2005 Penguin paperback edition.

Roman reviews

The African War 46 BC

Context

After the death of Gnaeus Pompeius (Pompey) in September 48 BC, forces loyal to his cause (the ‘Pompeians’) rallied in north Africa (modern-day Tunisia). They were given support by King Juba of Numidia.

Caesar, arriving back in Rome from the East (whose pacification, starting in Egypt, moving through Syria and into Turkey, are described in The Alexandrine War), quelled a mutiny in Campania. He took steps to relieve debtors. Loyal followers were given rewards i.e. governorships and priesthoods. Some were enrolled in the senate to fill gaps. Repentant Pompeians were forgiven i.e. there was no bloodbath as under the dictators earlier in the century, Sulla or Marius.

At the very end of 47 BC Caesar was elected consul and sailed to Africa to defeat this last holdout of Pompeians. The Pompeian forces were led by Quintus Caecilius Metellus Scipio, along with Titus Labienus, Publius Attius Varus, Lucius Afranius, Marcus Petreius and the brothers Sextus and Gnaeus Pompeius (Pompey’s sons). They key port of Utica was held by Caesar’s old foe, Cato the Younger and the Pompeians had a key ally in King Juba I of Numidia.

The African War consists of 98 ‘chapters’ taking up 48 pages of a Penguin paperback.

The African War

Map of the Roman province of Africa showing the towns and cities mentioned in the text

1 to 6: Arrival

Caesar assembles an army from different contingents at Lilybaeum, a port on Sicily. Leaving a Caesarian governor in place, he embarks and sails for Africa. The crossing takes three days and his ships are scattered by winds.

3 to 6: Arrival at Hadrumetum, an important port 50 miles down the Tunisian coast from the ruins of Carthage. Its commandant Caius Considius Longus refuses to negotiate. Caesar sends a prisoner with a message. When Considius asks who it’s from, the messenger replies ‘From the commander-in‑chief, Caesar.’ Then Considius retorted: ‘There is but one commander-in‑chief of the Roman people at the moment, namely Scipio’ and has the messenger executed in front of him.

Caesar rides round the walls and lands his 3,000 or so infantry but rather than lay a siege, knowing other Pompeian forces (Gnaius Piso with 3,000 Moorish troops) are approaching, Caesar makes a fighting withdrawal to Ruspina. Meaning that he had barely left his makeshift camp before Numidian cavalry mount a surprise attack and threaten to overwhelm his rearguard until he sends in Gaulish cavalry, who rout him. But for the entire march his rearguard is subject to lightning attacks.

7 to 19: Operations near Ruspina

Caesar advances to Leptis which he secures but doesn’t let his cavalry ashore. He sends back to Sicily for reinforcements, sends a contingent to find the transport ships which have gone astray, and another detachment of ships to the island of Cercina, which he hears has a large supply of corn.

Next day he returns to Ruspina. He is waiting for the arrival his missing transports. The enemy, led by Meanwhile the enemy, led by Labienus​ and the two Pacidei, arrive and line up for battle. Caesar deploys his men in a single line with archers in front and cavalry on the wings. Quite quickly Caesar’s force is surrounded and forms into a circle. Labienus rides up and down his front line mocking the Caesarians until one veteran centurion of the Tenth Legion confronts him and throws a spear which transfixes his horse. Caesar turns his legions round and tries to make for the camp but fresh enemy reinforcements arrive. He orders his men to make one last attack and throws his last cohorts into the field, driving the enemy back off the plain, then withdrawing in good order to his own fort

The Penguin edition notes that the historians Dio Cassius and Appian both say this battle was a big defeat, with the Caesarians taking heavy losses and being forced onto a hilltop where they would have been cut to pieces had both Marcus Petreius and Labienus not both been injured.

The account gives Labienus’s reasons for feeling confident, including the rumour that three legions had mutinied back in Rome, listing the mixed forces at his command, then recapping the facts about this battle, namely it was fought on 6 January 46, on the sixth day after Caesar disembarked, on a wide flat plain, from 11 in the morning till sunset.

19 to 36: Waiting at Ruspina

Caesar hears that Scipio is approaching with the main forces (8 legions and 3,000 cavalry (and so builds up the defences at Ruspina, bringing more men from the ships (Gallic and Rhodian rowers and marines, archers of all nations). He sets up smithies to manufacture arrows, javelins and sling shot.

Corn is an issue. The enemy have gathered all there is to collect into strongholds and then laid waste and ravaged the land around.

There’s a kind of interlude or digression in which we are shown Cato (who, it will be remembered, had always been against Caesar and bore some of the responsibility for the civil war by constantly blocking Caesar’s conciliatory offers). Anyway Cato is now in charge of the city of Utica and the text gives us a lengthy speech in which he reminds Pompey’s son, Gnaeus, of his father’s immense military achievements, and encourages him to emulate them. Thus inspired Gnaeus sets off from Utica with 30 ships and a force of 2,000 slaves and freemen to invade the kingdom of Mauretania (to the west of Africa i.e. the coast of modern day Algeria. He is approaching the town of Ascurum when the inhabitants sally forth in force and crush his forces, causing them to flee in panic to their ships, and once embarked they sail all the way to the Balearic Islands.

Meanwhile Scipio leaves Utica and marches via Hadrumetum to join Labienus. The text dwells on Caesar’s shortage of corn and fodder for the horses. Seasoned veterans take to feeding the horses seaweed cleaned in fresh water.

Meanwhile King Juba decides to join the Pompeians and gathers infantry and cavalry to march east and join Scipio. But this leaves his own kingdom undefended, and Bochus, king of West Mauretania, joins with the Roman bankrupt and mercenary Publius Sittius, to attack Juba’s kingdom in the west. They attack Cirta, the richest town in the kingdom. When it refuses to yield, they take it by storm and slaughter the entire population and set about ravaging the land. When Juba hears this he understandably decides he has to defend his own country, and so withdraws his forces from Scipio’s army and returns west, though he leaves 30 elephants.

Some nobles (does this mean Romans of the equites class) come to Caesar, telling him Scipio’s forces are devastating the land and begging him to save them.

Farms were being burned to the ground, fields stripped, herds plundered or butchered, towns and strongholds destroyed and abandoned, and the principal citizens either murdered or held in chains, and their children haled off to slavery on the pretext of being hostages.

Caesar had been planning to winter his troops (it is January) but decides to commence his campaign and sends for reinforcements from Sicily. While Caesar continues fortifying his camp and building causeways to the sea to allow safe disembarkation, a passage is devoted to Scipio’s attempts to train his elephants, difficult beasts.

A digression for the sad story of the Titius brothers who are aboard one of the many troop and transport ships which get scattered en route to Africa, are captured by Pompeian forces, taken before Scipio who has them executed. Why is this tragic little story included?

Cavalry squadrons from both sides skirmish and sometimes talk. Labienus tries to take the town of Leptis which is held by a Caesarian commander. At one point his horse is hit by a javelin from a scorpion and they retreat.

Scipio brings his forces out to face Caesar’s camp every day, with no response, each day becoming more mocking and scornful, till one day he deploys his entire force. Detailed description of how Caesar orders the foragers back inside the camp and deploys a minimum of cavalry but doesn’t offer battle. There’s a page describing Caesar’s motivations and the reason for his confidence which includes the solidity of the camp’s defences and the power of his own reputation. What’s striking about it, though, is its weakness. These are not very effective reasons, and neither is the claim that he didn’t want to win victory over a mere ‘remnants of his enemies’.

This passage lacks the vigour and unstoppable logic of the same kind of thing found in the Gallic Wars i.e. it doesn’t feel at all by Caesar, but very much like an apologist cooking up reasons to defend his actions.

Anyway, Scipio hangs round then withdraws his army into his camp and gives a pep talk. Meanwhile, allegedly, Caesar’s numbers are augmented by a steady stream of Gaelutian deserters. The text claims this is because many of them were done kindness by Marius, to whom they have heard Caesar is kin.

[Caesar’s aunt, Julia, was married to Marius. The editor of the Penguin edition, Jane F. Gardner, speculates that these Gaelutians, or this forebears, had served Marius in the war against Jugurtha, and so had entered into a patron-client relationship with him, which they thought still bound them to his kin, Caesar.]

When they’re Africans, he gives them letters to their kin and sends them back to their territories to recruit.

A little fuss about Acylla. A deputation come from the town and offer Caesar their allegiance and their store of corn so Caesar gratefully sends Gaius Messius to take it, and he arrives just before Considius Longus the Pompeian commander of Hadrumetum.

So this long sequence amounts to Caesar establishing his beachhead and resisting the temptation to battle till he is ready. He sends Gaius Sallustius Crispus to the island of Cercina which he takes without a fight and loads its store of corn aboard ship to be sent to Caesar. And the proconsul Alienus embarks two legions, 800 Gallic cavalry and 1,000 archers and slingers from Sicily and they arrive soon after with Caesar. Two reasons to be cheerful.

Puzzled why Caesar isn’t giving battle or moving about the country, Scipio sends two Gaetulians to pretend to be deserters, find out Caesar’s intentions and report back. In fact once in the presence of Caesar they confess their mission and say they and their countrymen want to desert, and also remember the kindness done them by Caesar’s kinsman Marius. Caesar welcomes them and they are joined by a steady trickle of deserters from Scipio’s legions.

Slow developments: Cato is recruiting more and more forces in Utica; a deputation arrives from Thysdra saying ships with a huge amount of wheat have arrived from Italy; in the west Publius Sittius invades King Juba’s territory and takes a town.

37 to 48: Operations near Uzitta

Instructing the ships to return to Sicily to collect the rest of his army, in the middle of the night of 25 January Caesar strikes camp and moves his army quietly along the coast to an area where a large plain is bounded by a semi-circular ridge.

[I tell you what would be fabulously use in this, the Civil War and the Gallic War – photographs. If the editor/translator had been paid to go out to the locations of these towns or battles and taken photos of the sites. The cumulative effect of all these descriptions is to make you realise how very poor words are at conveying landscape.]

Caesar advances along the ridge taking abandoned forts. The last one is held by Numidians. There is a fight between the cavalry forces. Caesar sent cavalry down into the plain where they massacred some more cavalry, putting Scipio’s forces to flight. A passage reflecting on the bodies of the Gaulish and German dead cavalry and why they had followed Labienus from Gaul.

[One of the subsidiary dramas of the civil war is the way that Labienus went from being Caesar’s right-hand man and most dependable lieutenant in Gaul, to defecting to Pompey at the outbreak of war, and now, commanding the forces directly opposing Caesar in Africa. What were the thoughts of both men about this turn of events?]

Next day Caesar advances his complete army down the ridge, into the foothills and slowly out onto the plain. Scipio advances his army but uses the town of Uzitta as a bulwark for his centre and stops in that position. Caesar realises he can’t fight both an army and storm a town at the same time. After facing each other all day in the African heat, the armies both withdraw and Caesar orders his men to extend their fortifications. Much time spent building camps and fortifications.

The narrative has a habit of cutting away to other developments going on at the same time, and as a result the author deploys the word interim a lot, which Gardner translates as ‘meanwhile’. So:

Meanwhile the Pompeian Considius is still besieging the town of Acylla, held by Gaius Messius. When he hears of Scipio’s cavalry’s defeat (the dead Germans and Gauls) he abandons the siege, burned his corn, spoiled his oil, marched through Juba’s territory to give Scipio some of his forces, then retreated with the rest to hold Hadrumetum.

Caesar is still suffering the problem that troop ships are being blown off course. Several are captured by Pompeian ships. Once contained veteran troops who are brought before Scipio. He very decently offers to spare their lives if they will join him. A centurion of the 14th Legion refuses, says he’s loyal to Caesar, tells Scipio to lay down his arms, and offers to take on Scipio’s strongest cohort with just ten colleagues.

Infuriated, Scipio has the centurion executed on the spot and all the other veterans taken outside the town walls and there tortured to death. Caesar is upset and angry because he had posted lookouts along the coast to spot his ships and they had failed. He has them all dismissed.

Unseasonal weather: rainstorms which flood Caesar’s camp, the men already hard pressed for provisions.

Meanwhile King Juba received a request from Scipio to join him and, leaving a force under Saburra to combat Sittius, marched to join Scipio with 3 legions, 800 cavalry, Numidian riders without bridles, light infantry and 30 elephants. Now there had been much rumour, paranoia and fear among the soldiers about the threat of Juba’s vast forces, but when they lined up with Scipio’s the next morning, the Caesareans were not impressed, all their fears dispelled, and morale restored.

49 to 66: Caesar takes the offensive

Now Scipio has the maximum force available to him battle can’t be far off. Caesar pushes to secure all the forts lining the ridge surrounding the plain, but Labienus beats him to the last in the series. It is reached by going down into a rocky ravine and up the other side and Labienus set an ambush with cavalry hiding behind the heights. But some of Labienus’s men bolted, giving away the plan, so the entire force ends up turning tail and Caesar’s force kills them and occupies the last fort.

Caesar decides to build ‘two containing walls’ across the plain from his main camp to the town of Uzitta. The aim was to protect his flanks as he advanced towards the town and make it easier for the enemy to defect and desert. As usual I found it difficult to envision the position of these walls, and impossible to understand their purpose, and difficult to understand how long walls can be constructed while part of his force stood in front of them skirmishing with barbarian cavalry and light infantry.

That evening, as Caesar is withdrawing his forces to the main camp, the massed forces of Juba, Scipio and Labienus attack and drive Caesar’s cavalry back, but Caesar quickly reverses the direction of march, turns his legions around and they stop and then rout the Pompeians, fighting them back to their camp with much loss of life. Only nightfall prevented Scipio and Labienus falling into his hands, and in the aftermath lots of Pompeian troops defect to Caesar.

Ships carrying the Tenth and Eighth legions arrive. Recalling the disorder and mutiny of some legions in Campania and Sicily, Caesar now assembles the entire army and makes a page-long speech singling out some five officers who have incited mutiny or, in the case of Gaius Avienus, brought over a ship filled entirely with household slaves rather than soldiers – dishonourably discharges them from the army and sends them back to Italy accompanied by just one slave.

Meanwhile the messages Caesar had sent via friendly Gaetulians have borne fruit and the entire people rises up against Juba, who is obliged to withdraw some of his forces from Scipio in order to put down the rebellion.

Caesar’s ‘lines of fortification’ are now complete and he brings up troops and siege engines to attack the defenders of Uzitta. More Gaetulians, specifically about 1,000 cavalry, defect to him.

A digression on Juba’s arrogant behaviour in ordering a Roman officer not to fraternise but worse, ordering Scipio not to wear a red cloak like himself. To think of freeborn Romans taking orders from a barbarian!

Next day Scipio comes out with all his forces yet again. Caesar lines his men up in front of his fortifications and they stand staring at each other. The town is incorporated into Scipio’s line so Caesar is reluctant to attack because, once he’s passed the town, he knows the legions inside it will come out and attack his rear. Impasse.

The text gives a detailed breakdown of the deployment of both forces but, as there is no battle, who really cares. Instead, as Caesar is packing up and withdrawing his army, some of Scipio’s Numidian cavalry attack. Caesar’s Gaetulians respond, counter attack but go too far, across some marshy ground on the battlefield and are quickly surrounded. His cavalry are mauled before making it back to camp as night falls.

Next day dawns and both generals have their soldiers continuing to develop their fortifications.

Caesarian ships arrive and anchor off Leptis. Pompeian Varus attacks them, setting fire to the transports and capturing dome five-bank warships. As soon as he heard this Caesar rode the 6 miles to the harbour, ordering all his ships to meet him there. Alarmed, Varus turned his fleet back towards Hadrumetum; Caesar pursued and captured a quinquereme and trireme. Varus’s fleet makes it into the harbour at Hadrumetum and Caesar can’t follow because of an adverse wind but sets fire to all the transports anchored outside.

In the captured ship are some Roman nobles. Caesar executes on man he had pardoned in Spain, only to have him go join Pompey in Pharsalus, and then come here to serve Varus. Another noble he spared because he honestly claimed to have been taken prisoner and had no time to escape.

Caesar discovered secret underground stores of corn and sent men to fetch them. Learning of this Labienus set an ambush for next time they did it, deploying cavalry and light infantry. Learning of this Caesar lulled him into a false sense of security, then deployed three legions and all his cavalry behind the foraging party. When Labienus attacked the latter, the Caesarian cavalry attacked, when the main body of Labienus’s cavalry came to their help Caesar revealed his three legions and Labienus withdrew.

Next day King Juba had all the Numidians who had fled their posts during the failed ambush crucified.

67 to 78: The Pompeians lose the initiative

Lack of corn prompts Caesar to abandon his camp, burning it, assigning garrisons to the three friendly towns of Leptis, Ruspina and Acylla, setting his ships to blockage Hadrumetum and Thapsus. He marches with the remainder to Aggar, where he establishes a new camp, and goes successfully foraging for food. By ‘foraging’ I take it the text means stealing food from all the inhabitants of the region.

Scipio follows. Caesar captures Zeta, leaves a garrison and is minded to attack Scipio’s forces which are themselves foraging when more legions appear. As he marches back towards Aggar past Scipio’s camp, the latter attacks. Fierce fighting, the Numidian cavalry attacking if he retreats but pulling back if he stands. It takes all night to slowly retreat back to his camp while fighting off the skirmishing Numidians.

The Africans’ tactics of constant skirmishing but retreat as soon as the infantry offer engagement, requires a completely new set of tactics, and so Caesar personally sets about retraining his troops.

How many feet they were to retreat from the enemy; the manner in which they must wheel round upon their adversary; the restricted space in which they must offer him resistance — now doubling forward, now retiring and making feint attacks; and almost the spot from which, and the manner in which they must discharge their missiles — these were the lessons he taught them.

Caesar imports elephants from Italy for his troops and horses to get used to, for the troops to learn the weak spots of and practice throwing untipped javelins at. And has to accustom the legions to this new, sneaky, guileful, tricky opponent.

A deputation from the town of Vaga arrives to ask for Caesar’s protection. Soon after which a refugee arrives to declare that Juba had hastened to the town to stop it being occupied, stormed it, slaughtered the entire population, and abandoned it for his troops to plunder.

On 21 March Caesar holds the traditional purification ceremony of the army. Apparently, this had something to do with marking the start of the campaigning season although, as we’ve seen, Caesar campaigned throughout the winter. Next day he marches to Scipio’s camp and presents his army in battle array, but Scipio doesn’t rise to the bait.

Next day he marches to Sarsura. Labienus attacks the rearguard, capturing many camp followers then attacking the troops themselves, but Caesar had anticipated this and stationed men without baggage in the rear who promptly turned, raised standards, and scared Labienus off.

At Sursura Caesar slaughtered the entire Pompeian garrison. Caesar distributed corn to the army then marched on to Thysdra but finds no water and so retires to Aggar.

The town of Thabena revolts against Juban rule, massacres its garrison and asks for Caesar’s protection, so he sends a detachment to take it. At the same time more troop transports arrive from Italy, some 4,000 infantry, 1,000 slingers, 400 cavalry, so Caesar assembles his force and marches to a plain two miles from Scipio’s camp.

It’s near a town named Tegea. Scipio brings his men out of his camp, deploying them. Time passes. Eventually a cavalry skirmish develops in which both sides send in reinforcements, but Caesar has the best of it, his cavalry pursuing the enemy three miles up into the hills and killing many before returning.

But Caesar can’t get the enemy to fight. He realises two things: that they lack confidence in their own abilities and so are relying on Caesar’s shortage of water to wear him down. And so on 4 April, by night, he left the camp by Aggar and marched 16 miles to Thapsus, which Vergilius was holding with a large garrison.

Scipio follows him and now, according to the narrative, is forced to give battle. Why? ‘To avoid the utter humiliation of losing Vergilius and those most staunch supporters of his cause — the men of Thapsus’.

79 to 86: The battle of Thapsus

Caesar advances to Thapsus and begins to invest the town. Scipio follows and finally encamps 8 miles south. Thapsus is on a promontory with a big salt lake to its south, creating a narrow land corridor. Because Caesar had blocked this Scipio went up and round the western side of the lake.

Map of the battle of Thapsus, 6 April 46 BC

Scipio’s men give signs of agitation behind their fortifications and this incites Caesar’s forces. It’s an oddity of this battle that Caesar does everything in his power and even gets his centurions to try and restrain the men, but then a bugler gives the signal to advance and the cohorts run forward charging, and Caesar gives in to fortune and destiny.

Sling shots terrify the elephants. The Moorish cavalry panics and flees. (Digression to describe the action of one brave legionary who attacks a furious elephant to stop it trampling to death a camp follower.) The garrison of Thapsus emerge from their fortifications and wade through the water to join their comrades but are beaten back by slings and arrows.

The retreating Pompeians arrive at Scipio’s base camp but discover there is no one there to rally them. They run to Juba’s camp to discover it is in enemy hands. The Scipionians drop their arms and beg for mercy but Caesar’s men’s blood is up and they massacre them to a man, despite Caesar’s orders to stop, and even wound eminent nobles and knights on Caesar’s own side.

In the way of these kinds of texts, the casualties are given and seem a) suspiciously round figures and b) ludicrously one sided. Thus, 5,000 of the enemy are killed to Caesar’s 50 dead and a few wounded. He captures 64 elephants. What I want to know is what happened to Scipio, Labienus and Juba who all disappear from the narrative.

(Plutarch, in his life of Caesar, 53, says: ‘Thus in a brief portion of one day he made himself master of three camps [Scipio’s, Juba’s and Afranius’s) and slew fifty thousand of the enemy, without losing as many as fifty of his own men’.)

Next day Caesar lines his whole army up in front of Thapsus and calls on Vergilius to surrender but there is no reply. Next day he gives rewards and praise to the bravest fighters, then leaves a commander to besiege Thapsus and one to besiege Thysdra, while he proceeds to Utica.

87 to 98: Final stages of the campaign

Scipio’s retreating forces arrive at the town of Parada. The people have heard of Caesar’s victory and so refuse the Pompeians entry but the Pompeians storm it, pile up logs in the forum, burn the town’s precious belongings, then tie up townspeople and throw them into the flames.

Cato the Younger was governor of Utica. He didn’t trust either the senate of 300 or so eminent Romans or the townspeople. The latter he forced into a trench in front of the town, the latter he kept under guard. When Scipio’s cavalry arrived they attacked the townspeople in the trench but were beaten off. So instead the cavalry break into the town and plunder and loot it. Cato could only stop them by promising 100 sesterces each, joined by a Roman noble Faustus Sulla, who gave them money, then they rode off west to join King Juba.

Cato assembles the Three Hundred (presumably meaning the town’s senate or leading figures) and persuades them to free their slaves in order to join the defence of the town. Only some comply. Many want to flee, so Cato sets about carefully and methodically putting ships at the disposal of the fleeers. He assigns his children to the care of his questor, then withdraws to his bedroom, where he runs himself through with a sword. When his slaves and friends run in and try to patch him up, Cato pulls at the wound and his guts with his own hands, killing himself. Yuk.

These last acts of his management of the town and suicide are described in detail in Plutarch’s life of Cato. The townspeople opposed him but came to respect his rectitude.

His deputy, Lucius Caesar, opens the town gates and welcomes Caesar’s forces. Caesar marches through the territory picking off towns which now throw themselves open to him, including Usseta and Hadrumetum, finally arriving at Utica as it got dark. Along the way he met and pardoned a suite of Roman nobles who had been holding the town against him.

Next morning Caesar assembled the 300 and upbraided them for opposing him. They were trembling all expecting to die but Caesar forgives them, albeit on the harsh condition that all shall love all their properties, confiscated by the state. If any buy them back, they shall hold their property secure and the fee amount to their fine. He imposed a group fine on the 300 of 200 million sesterces.

King Juba flies west, hiding in farmhouses during the day, till he arrives at the town of Zama. Now he had built a huge pyre here and threatened the people with burning them on it with the result that, no surprisingly, they refuse to let him in. Neither will they hand over his treasure or wife and children so Juba ends up taking refuge with Marcus Petreius in a country villa.

The people of Zama send an envoy to Caesar begging his protection so he sets off. Some of the king’s cavalry officers approach him asking for forgiveness and he forgives them all. This is excellent policy because, as word spreads of his clemency, more and more towns surrender to him and senior officers come over.

Considius, who had been holding Thysdra for the Pompeians, hearing of their defeat at Thapsus, takes treasure and slips out of the town with a small entourage of barbarians. But somewhere along the trail the Gauls cut him down, stole the gold and absconded.

At which point, realising it is all over, Vergilius asks safe conduct for him and his family, then surrenders Thapsus.

King Juba, with no army to command and abandoned by his people, resolves on suicide. There are a number of versions: some say he and Petreius agreed to duel, he easily killed Petreius then stabbed himself; or Petreius killed him then stabbed himself; or they killed each other at the same time; or they both committed suicide.

Meanwhile, in the west, Sittius routed the army of Juba’s general, Saburra, killing the general. Then he heard of the 1,000 cavalry under Faustus Sulla and Afranius, fresh from sacking Utica and being paid off and planning to take ship to Spain, last holdout of the Pompeians. Sittius ambushes them, killing a great number but taking alive Faustus and Afranius. A few days later, in some obscure affray, they were killed. Caesar pardoned their children and let them keep their property.

Scipio, Damasippus, Torquatus and Plaetorius Rustianus were making for Spain aboard warships. After a stormy passage they were carried towards Royal Hippo, where Sittius had his fleet at that time. Outnumbered as they were by the latter, Scipio’s vessels were surrounded and sunk and Scipio and the others all perished. [Other accounts say that, after losing the naval engagement Scipio also committed suicide by stabbing himself with his sword.]

Having entered Juba’s royal town of Zama, Caesar holds an auction of King Juba’s belongings and gives the citizens of Zama rewards for resisting their king. He declared the kingdom a Roman province, appointing Gaius Sallustius proconsul, awarding western Numidia to King Bochus. Sittius founds a colony there. (This Sallustius is the same man who in the late 40s retired from public life and wrote monographs in the Jugurthan War and the Cataline Conspiracy.)

At Utica Caesar sold the property of commanders under Juba and Petreius, imposed fines on the towns which held out against them but took steps to make sure they weren’t plundered. On Leptis he imposes a fine of 3 million pounds of oil a year.

On 13 June Caesar set sail from Utica, arriving at Caralis on Sardinia. Here he punishes the people of Sulci for rebelling against him, then set sail along the coast of Italy and arrived safely back in Rome.

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