Brutus: An Honourable Man?
Marcus Junius Brutus, the man who conspired to kill Julius Caesar, was not quite the friend to his fellow Romans that the legend suggests.
Mention the name of Brutus and, for many, it will bring to mind the Roman Republican who, desperate to preserve the constitution, committed murder with the noblest of intentions. The carefully considered assassination of Julius Caesar, a supposed tyrant in the making, is the deed for which Marcus Junius Brutus has gone down in history. This legendary act leaves us with the impression that Brutus was a nobleman of high moral standing and unbending principles, largely due to Shakespeare’s portrayal of him in Julius Caesar. But a survey of ancient sources reveals that this Brutus could, and often did, behave in questionable ways. Although the details of his life are often sketchy, there are several episodes that challenge his reputation as ‘an honourable man’. Furthermore, such behaviour occurs repeatedly, so his less-than-honourable nature cannot be written off as one uncharacteristic moment in an otherwise unblemished life.
The earliest recorded episode of dubious behaviour finds Brutus at the centre of a case of extortion, which was to have fatal consequences. At some time during the mid-50s BC, the Cypriot city of Salamis sent a deputation to Rome, requesting a loan. A few years earlier, while in his late twenties, Brutus had accompanied his uncle, Cato the Younger, a staunch Republican, on a successful expedition to annex Cyprus to the expanding Roman world and so the Salaminians were now seeking the aid of their patrons. Brutus agreed to help by having decrees passed in the Senate, which would make it legal for two fellow Romans, named Scaptius and Matinius, to lend the money to the Salaminians, which they did. This all appeared innocuous enough, but the truth would slowly emerge.
In 53 BC Brutus gained his first step on the Roman political ladder, as quaestor. In this financial administrative role, he accompanied the governor of Cilicia, his father-in-law, Appius Claudius Pulcher, to his province. It was to Cilicia, an area on what is now the southern coast of Turkey, that Cyprus had been annexed by Cato a few years earlier. Appius treated his province as many Roman governors did, abusing his position of power and carrying out acts of extortion in his personal interest. It is unsurprising then to learn that, when the money-lender Scaptius arrived in the province a year later, Appius gave him command of a cavalry unit to aid his pursuit of the Salaminian debt, which was overdue. This enabled Scaptius to employ aggressive tactics, such as besieging the local councillors in the senate house in an attempt to force them to pay up. He was so ruthless in his mission that several of the councillors died of starvation before they could be released. While there is no direct evidence to suggest that Brutus shared an active part in the misdeeds of either Appius or Scaptius, it is more than likely that, as a junior colleague, he would have been complicit in their actions.
Murky dealings
The statesman and orator Cicero, who had taken over from Appius as governor of Cilicia in 51 BC, had the misfortune to unearth the murky reality behind these dealings. On his arrival, with Appius and Brutus nowhere to be seen, having retreated to the opposite end of the province in order to avoid criticism of their handling of affairs, Cicero swiftly dismissed Scaptius’ troops and refused his audacious request to have his command renewed, despite letters of recommendation from Brutus. Cicero upheld the ruling that the loan should be repaid to Scaptius, but he would not allow the crippling 48 per cent rate of interest that Scaptius was seeking, knowing that it would spell ruin for the city. At this point Scaptius produced the original senatorial decrees that Brutus had passed to support this, though Cicero insisted on a relatively moderate 12 per cent.
It was beginning to appear that Brutus may have had more of a hand in this business than was immediately apparent. The extent of his involvement was revealed when Scaptius produced a letter from Brutus. Cicero was shocked to learn that it was Brutus who was behind this affair, having been the one who lent the money to the Salaminians, while employing Scaptius and Matinius as his agents in order to keep his role hidden. Furthermore, in an earlier written declaration to Cicero, Brutus had explicitly – and falsely – stated that the Salaminians had borrowed the money from his friends, for whom he claimed to be acting merely as guarantor for a large sum. In truth, he had used his position of power for personal gain, passing laws to protect his own interests and even allowing the use of violence in restoring money to himself, which he had lent at an extortionate rate of interest and to a city of which he was supposedly a patron. Brutus was by no means the only Roman guilty of such corruption in the provinces. But his use of deceit shows that he was aware of the unsavoury nature of his activities and, what is more, Cicero entirely disapproved of such behaviour. In his letters on the matter, Cicero is able to hide neither his frustration at being caught up in such an unpleasant case, nor his disappointment in a friend whom he thought beyond reproach.
Severe tactics
So much for an honourable man. But the Salamis affair was not the only act of greedy money-lending in which Brutus indulged. At the same time that Cicero was trying to mediate in this affair, he was also negotiating with Ariobarzanes III, king of Cappadocia, over the return of a loan to Brutus. While this case did not have the same repercussions as that of Salamis, Ariobarzanes was nevertheless forced to use severe tactics to impose heavy taxes on his people in an attempt to raise funds. His kingdom had already been stripped bare of all resources, because he was under pressure to repay a debt to Pompey the Great, a consul of the late Roman Republic. But, while Pompey agreed to the repayment of interest only, Brutus, despite being aware that the Cappodocians were suffering harsh measures, pursued full repayment of his loan. Cicero did not appear to disapprove of Brutus’ actions to the same extent in this case, agreeing to appoint his agents as prefects in order to aid their debt-collecting task. Nonetheless, it seems that this ‘honourable man’ was once again involved in corruption, extortion and the pursuit of financial greed.
Another of Brutus’ unsavoury characteristics that emerges from his money-lending activities is his abrasive personality. Cicero, who admired and respected him, found himself at the receiving end of his rudeness, despite extensive efforts to assist his friend’s financial affairs. Not only did Brutus purposely avoid him by travelling to the other end of Cilicia when he first arrived, but his letters to Cicero reveal his selfish irritation that he was not managing matters entirely in his favour. He displayed no consideration for Cicero, who was caught in the middle attempting to help Brutus while also trying to act legally and fairly towards the people of his province. In Cicero’s correspondence to their friend Atticus, his discomfort at this situation is evident; he asks Atticus to intervene and convey his point of view to Brutus, while repeatedly attempting to justify his actions and always seeking his approval. While at first Cicero claimed to find Brutus’ abrupt tone amusing, in the end his ingratitude and unreasonable demands annoyed Cicero so much that he gave up trying to please him. Refusing to behave in a way that would jeopardise his own principles, he told Atticus that he had done everything possible and, if that was not enough, then so be it. Unlike Brutus, Cicero was determined to maintain his integrity when conducting public business.
Disrespect
This is not the only example of Brutus’ disrespectful attitude towards the elder statesman. Almost a decade later, when Cicero’s beloved daughter died, Brutus adopted a cold and reproachful tone when writing to him, telling Cicero that he ought to stop mourning and get on with his life. Relations between the two men became strained. They deliberately chose not to spend time in each other’s company, although this estrangement did not last.
There is no doubt that Brutus could be a difficult character. This was often as a result of his adherence to unrelenting principles, rather than in spite of them. The relationship that was seemingly most affected by this facet of his personality was that with his co-conspirator and brother-in-law, Cassius. There was a tension between the two men, who not only had opposing temperaments, but also different philosophical beliefs. The uneasiness of their relationship was exacerbated when Cassius was forced to endure Julius Caesar’s decision to promote Brutus over himself in 45 BC, despite his seniority in both age and experience. Cassius, however, realising the importance of involving the noble Brutus in the plot to assassinate Caesar, was reconciled with his brother-in-law and they worked closely together, both before and after Caesar’s death. There were times when, inevitably, their personalities clashed. When they were reunited in the East in the wake of Caesar’s murder, the cracks in their relationship began to reappear, as they disagreed over money and how best to prepare for the impending war with Antony and Octavian. One discussion became so heated that a colleague forced his way into their tent to break up the argument.
Brutus’ lack of flexibility must have been impossibly difficult and frustrating at times as, for example, when he openly castigated and condemned a friend for embezzlement of public funds. Cassius had chosen to take a more moderate approach to a similar situation, reprimanding the offending parties privately, while acquitting them publicly. On this point of dispute, Cassius received a lecture from Brutus. Knowing Brutus’ shady financial dealings, such moralising at this point can be judged as nothing less than pure hypocrisy on his part.
Caesar’s disregard
This was not the only act of hypocrisy by Brutus. It was particularly evident in his relationship with Julius Caesar. The two men had differing political outlooks, with Caesar’s forward-thinking and blatant disregard for the old constitution being completely at odds with Brutus’ desire to preserve the traditional Republic at all costs. What is perhaps not so widely known is that there was personal conflict between them, since Brutus’ mother, Servilia, was a long-term lover and favourite mistress of Julius Caesar, much to her son’s distaste. Nonetheless, Brutus remained more than willing to accept favours from the man for whom he professed disapproval both personally and politically. Caesar displayed a genuine fondness for Brutus and he often sought to protect and help him, which only served to fuel the entirely unfounded rumours that he was his son. In the civil war between Caesar and Pompey, Brutus made the principled choice to side with the latter, despite the fact that Pompey had murdered his father in cold blood many years before. Indeed, Brutus had always regarded him as an enemy, once having been rumoured to be involved in a conspiracy to kill him. Despite his choice of side, after Pompey had been vanquished at Pharsalus in 48 BC, Caesar ordered that Brutus was not to be harmed at any cost. In a characteristic display of mercy, he pardoned him. Despite his supposedly unwavering Republican ideals, Brutus was forgiven by Caesar and went on to enjoy the benefits which came from being both his friend and protégé. This included his promotion to a senior governorship role much earlier than was customary, since Brutus had previously held only a junior administrative role. Furthermore, his province was to be a significant one: Cisalpine Gaul in northern Italy, strategically vital for its proximity to Rome. It was especially important to Caesar, who had spent a substantial period there as governor before the civil war, building up support.
While Brutus was busy reviving his public career with the help of Caesar, his resolute uncle Cato was still engaged in fighting the civil war against the man who threatened their beloved constitution. Brutus became a governor in 46 BC, the same year that Cato died in North Africa leading one of the remaining pockets of resistance against Caesar. There was clearly a conflict of interest for Brutus, especially after Caesar celebrated the death of Cato and other Romans in a triumph – an inappropriate display as triumphs should only have been celebrated against public enemies. An indication of Brutus’ feeling of guilt over this situation is perhaps found in his attempt to redress the balance by writing a eulogy for Cato in defiance of Caesar. When Cicero also wrote an encomium at Brutus’ request, his Cato prompted an angry reaction from Caesar, who wrote an insulting anti-Cato in response.
It was around this time that Brutus married Cato’s daughter, Porcia, which many viewed as a deliberate political move in opposition to Caesar. Brutus’ personal life was not entirely devoid of scandal: it was deemed necessary that he divorce his first wife, the daughter of the former Cilician governor Appius Claudius Pulcher. His second marriage took place hastily, causing something of a stir in Rome.
Contemporary sources contain hints and details of deadly or violent episodes, other than the murder of Caesar, that might not be expected of the supposedly honourable and moral Brutus. These all happened after the assassination, as he and Cassius were attempting to take over the eastern provinces. He reportedly executed two prominent men whose only crime, it can be assumed, as former supporters of Caesar, was to resist the takeover of the provinces of Macedonia and Thessaly by his killers. Another anecdote tells how Brutus used ‘every possible torture’ to kill one of the men who had been responsible for luring Pompey to his death in Egypt. It is surprising, perhaps, that he reacted so savagely to the execution of his own father’s murderer.
Brutus’ handling of Lycia, a region on what is now the south-west coast of Turkey, also had fatal consequences. Its people were considered dangerous, since they were supporters of Caesar, who had refused to make an alliance with Brutus and Cassius and who were in possession of substantial fleets that could be used against them. Following an initial resistance, most of Lycia submitted to Brutus, with the exception of the city of Xanthus, where opposition gathered. After the city took defensive measures, Brutus’ men besieged it and eventually breached its defences, employing tactics of deception to make its defenders wrongly believe that they had retreated. In the confusion that ensued, part of the city went up in flames. Brutus’ men were responsible either accidentally, when fire spread from the siege engines, or deliberately, by setting fire to houses. The Xanthians then reportedly followed suit by also setting fire to the city, either from panic or because they were unwilling to be taken captive. Brutus was said to be distraught and tried to stop it, but the men of the city killed the women and children before committing suicide. Only a small number of people survived and so Brutus once more had blood on his hands. One tradition hostile to Brutus records that, when the nearby city of Patara also resisted, he threatened them with the fate of their neighbours. Although an alternative narrative exists, which depicts Brutus in a better light, this hostile version suggests that, once his troops had forced the Patarans to open their gates, he set about demanding that private citizens pay all their wealth or be killed. Brutus then reportedly exploited these events, writing a letter to other Lycian communities asking them to compare the fates of Xanthus and Patara and inviting them menacingly to choose the best course of action. The entire region was eventually subdued, agreeing to a military alliance and handing over its fleet, as well as contributing financially. Once more, it seems that Brutus was not beyond descending to the use of underhand tactics to achieve his aims.
Like the Roman
Brutus was a product of the Roman world in which he lived. While Shakespeare’s characterisation served to perpetuate Brutus’ reputation as an honourable man, that is not to say that the playwright’s portrayal was merely a myth, for he took his material and inspiration from the same ancient sources that reveal the side to Brutus that has been illustrated here. The overwhelming impression that emerges from the original Greek and Latin texts is not so much that of a dubious character, but rather a virtuous and significant man who occasionally went astray.
On the whole, Brutus is portrayed as a great man who had a noble reputation even during his lifetime. Cicero, the contemporary whose letters are our most reliable source for Brutus’ more questionable behaviour, apparently esteemed the up-and-coming politician, placing most of his hopes for the future of the state in him, often trying, it appears, to win his respect. Caesar clearly had a high regard for Brutus both personally and politically, however misguided this opinion was. As a provincial governor, Brutus was popular and successful and the people of Cisalpine Gaul were grateful for his fair treatment of their province. Cassius knew that it was necessary to involve Brutus in the conspiracy against Caesar for, without this principled man lending just cause to the assassination, others would not join the plot. In Athens, where Brutus had undertaken his education, he was hailed as a tyrant-slaying hero and statues were erected to honour both him and Cassius. In his personal life, too, his friends, mother and wife are depicted as always having great affection for him.
As well as the overwhelming impression of the admiration he won from all around him, the ancient authors give the sense that Brutus could have gone on to do greater things still, had his life not been cut short by his suicide in the face of narrow defeat at the hands of Antony and Octavian at the Battle of Philippi in 42 BC. Even in death, Brutus was able to influence matters positively: in the years following his suicide, during the early Roman Empire, he became a figure of hope, like Cato, to which the oppressed could cling and so his heroic status began to grow. On balance, it seems that in the life of this renowned Roman there is a lesson to be learned that there are, indeed, always two sides to every story: like many a hero, Marcus Junius Brutus was, in reality, an honourable, yet flawed, man.
Kirsty Corrigan is an Honorary Research Fellow at the University of Kent and author of Brutus: Caesar’s Assassin (Pen & Sword Military, 2015).