Meta Description: Join Dr. Jeff Winkle and Dr. David Noe in Ad Navseam Episode 79 as they tackle the most famous political murder in history: the assassination of Julius Caesar. Explore the primary source accounts of Livy, Suetonius, Plutarch, and Cassius Dio, learn the mechanics of the Roman calendar, and discover why you should never leave Cicero on a group text. Plus, the Latin language of the Ides of March.
Introduction: Second Winter in the Vomitorium
Welcome back to the “Vomitorium,” listeners! It is Episode 79 of the Ad Navseam Podcast. We are broadcasting from “Vomitorium West,” where your hosts, Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle, are currently suffering through the misery of a Michigan “second winter” (often affectionately known as “Smarch”). We have no listener shout-out this week. While the hosts received some submissions from New Zealand and Ohio, they simply weren’t buttoned-up enough to meet the high professional standards of the cravat-wearing Ad Navseam operation . If you want your name read on the air, send in a properly polished greeting!
Today, Dr. Winkle has the helm. The topic is the assassination of Julius Caesar. While the hosts acknowledge this is a subject that has been “done to death,” they promise to bypass the generic narrative. They intend to keep listeners from changing the channel to a slew of Matlock reruns, promising not to be like the student they once took to Eleusis who declared, “If I see another old rock, I’m going to puke”. Instead, they are bringing their trademark linguistic acumen, primary source readings, and a healthy dose of goofball dad jokes to breathe new life into the Ides of March.
The Opening Quote: The Charisma of the Camp
To set the historical stage, Dr. Winkle shares a quote from author Tom Holland’s book, Rubicon. (Dr. Noe is highly amused to imagine the young Spider-Man actor writing Roman history, but assures us it is a different Tom Holland) . The quote beautifully explains the shifting loyalties of the Roman Republic:
“But in a civil war, to what could a citizen pledge his loyalty? Not his city, not the altars of his ancestors, not the Republic itself… But he could attach himself to the fortunes of a general and be certain of finding comradeship in the ranks of that general’s army… There was no one capable of inspiring a more passionate devotion in his troops than Caesar.”
Caesar had been campaigning in Gaul for roughly a decade (58 to 51 BC). For his legionaries, the gritty, traveling carnival of the army camp was their true home, not the distant, sunlit forum of Rome. Caesar was their lodestar.
The Rubicon and the Breakdown of the Republic
By 49 BC, Caesar marches his hardened troops down the boot of Italy and arrives at the Rubicon River. This river acted as an extension of the pomerium, the sacred boundary of Rome past which no weapons or armies were permitted.
Caesar crosses it anyway, famously declaring “Alea iacta est” (the die is cast), effectively declaring war on the state. His rival, Pompey, realizes he has vastly overestimated his own popularity and flees to Brundisium, eventually escaping to Greece.
With his rivals routed, Caesar is eventually declared Dictator Perpetuo (dictator for life). Traditionally, a dictator was a six-month emergency position, after which the leader was expected to step down (like Cincinnatus returning to his plow). By accepting the title in perpetuum, Caesar signals to the aristocracy that the Republic is officially dead.
Livy’s Three “Last Straws”
The historian Livy points to three specific, petty, yet highly symbolic events that pushed the conspirators over the edge:
- The Seated Snub: A senatorial delegation approaches Caesar with extraordinary honors near the Temple of Venus Genetrix. Caesar remains seated in his chair, refusing to stand to greet them—a massive display of disrespect.
- The Diadem on the Statue: A royal crown (diadem) is mysteriously placed on Caesar’s statue on the speaking rostra. When tribunes remove it, Caesar claims it was planted to discredit him. Meanwhile, people in the crowds start calling him Rex (King), a deeply taboo word (nefas) in Roman politics.
- The Lupercalia Incident: On February 15, 44 BC, during the Lupercalia wolf-festival, a mostly nude Marc Antony climbs the rostra and repeatedly attempts to place a crown on Caesar’s head. Caesar refuses it to the cheers of the crowd, but the entire staged performance makes the Senate incredibly nervous.
The Conspiracy and Alternate Ambush Plans
Led by Brutus (who carried the symbolic weight of his ancestor who overthrew the original Roman kings in 509 BC) and Cassius, a plot is hatched. They deliberately exclude Cicero from the conspiracy, fearing the orator was too talkative to keep a secret. Dr. Winkle jokes that Cicero would have put the plot on a group text, typing out acronyms like “CJC TBK” (Gaius Julius Caesar To Be Killed). (Dr. Noe gleefully points out that Cicero was only 50 at the time, meaning he was younger than Dr. Winkle is right now ).
Before settling on the Senate, the conspirators brainstormed other hilariously bad ambush locations. One idea was to push Caesar off a bridge into the Via Sacra river, but as Dr. Winkle notes, trying to stab someone in river mud while wearing soaked togas would just turn into an impossible “splash fight”. Another plan was to attack him at the gladiatorial games, perhaps ambushing him while he picked up some “jujy fruits” at the concession stand, but that was deemed too public and difficult to control.
The Ides of March: The Assassination
Time is running out. Caesar is scheduled to leave for a massive military campaign in the East on March 18th. They settle on striking at the Ides of March. Dr. Noe provides a quick lesson on Roman calendulation:
- Kalends: The 1st of the month.
- Nones: The 5th or 7th of the month.
- Ides: The 15th (in March, May, July, October) or the 13th in other months . Because the Romans counted inclusively, calculating dates was a dizzying affair.
The assassination is planned for a Senate meeting at the Curia of Pompey. Why there? The traditional Senate house in the forum had been burned to the ground years prior. During the funeral of the populist Clodius Pulcher (the brother of the infamous “Lesbia” from Catullus’ poetry), the mob turned the building into a funeral pyre. Because this new temporary location was outside the pomerium boundary, the senators carrying daggers wouldn’t raise immediate alarms.
On the morning of the Ides, Caesar almost stays home. His wife, Calpurnia, has a terrifying dream and begs him not to go. A conspirator named Decimus is sent to Caesar’s home (the Domus Publica) to shame him into attending, questioning his manhood for listening to his wife’s dreams. Caesar relents and makes the one-mile walk to the Curia. Along the way, he mocks the soothsayer Spurinna, noting that the Ides of March have come. Spurinna chillingly replies, “Yes, but they have not yet gone”.
The hosts read from three primary sources to reconstruct the murder:
- Suetonius: Describes Tullius Cimber grabbing Caesar’s toga by the shoulders. One of the Casca brothers (“if you’ve seen one Casca, you’ve seen them all,” Dr. Winkle jokes) strikes the first blow to the throat. Caesar fights back, stabbing Casca with his writing stylus. Surrounded, Caesar pulls his toga over his head and down to his feet to die with decorum. He is stabbed 23 times, but the physician Antistius notes only the second wound to the breast was fatal. Suetonius dismisses the famous Greek last words “Kai su, teknon?” (Even you, my child / Et tu, Brute?), asserting that Caesar died in silence. Dr. Winkle highlights a hauntingly picturesque detail from Suetonius: after the murderers flee, Caesar’s lifeless body is loaded onto a litter by three common slaves and carried home “with one arm hanging down”.
- Plutarch: Describes Caesar being driven back and forth “like a wild beast” among the assassins. He eventually collapses against the pedestal of Pompey’s statue, drenching it in blood—a poetic vengeance for his fallen rival.
- Cassius Dio: Adds the detail that Trebonius intentionally kept Marc Antony engaged in conversation outside the chamber to prevent him from interfering.
The Aftermath and the Reading of the Will
The conspirators expected the public to rejoice at the death of the “tyrant.” They severely misread the room. As they ran through the streets shouting about Libertas, the terrified public locked their doors and shuttered their windows.
Caesar secured his ultimate posthumous revenge with the reading of his will. He bequeathed his vast fortune directly to the Roman citizens, including sums of cash and beautiful tracts of land in the trendy Trastevere district. The public turned entirely against the assassins, forcing them to flee to the East, where they would eventually be hunted down by Antony and Octavian (Augustus) at Philippi. Interestingly, Dr. Winkle notes a historical parallel: when John Wilkes Booth assassinated Abraham Lincoln, he yelled “Sic semper tyrannis” (Thus always to tyrants) and expected to be hailed as a hero just like Brutus. Booth, hiding in a barn days later, wrote in his diary expressing shock that he was being vilified for the exact same deed Brutus was praised for.
For those engaging in a game of “Ides and Seek,” the ruins of the Curia of Pompey can still be seen today near the Largo di Torre Argentina in Rome.
Sponsors: Resources for the Aspiring Scholar
This deep dive into Roman history is supported by:
- Hackett Publishing: Celebrating 50 years of outstanding classical texts. Use code AN2022 at hackettpublishing.com for 20% off and free shipping. Orders over $50 get a free tote bag while supplies last.
- Ratio Coffee: Brew like a patrician with the Ratio 6 or Ratio 8. It bridges the gap between manual pour-over quality and automated convenience. Use code ANCO at ratiocoffee.com for 15% off.
- MossMethod: Want to read the Greek accounts of Caesar’s death yourself? Go from neophyte to erudite with Dr. Noe’s course at latinperdiem.com.
- Latin Per Diem: Build your Latin foundation ab initio using the Lingua Latina Per Se Illustrata method at latinperdiem.com/llpsi.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
We end this bloody historical episode with a remarkably understated quote from Suzanne Collins, author of The Hunger Games. After discussing a staggering 23 dagger wounds, we could all use a simple comfort:
“Lunch makes me feel a bit better.”
Valete!
