On the following day the jury, despite having been heavily bribed, had no choice but to bring in a guilty verdict. A fine of 3 million sesterces was levied—a derisory figure but probably the maximum that could be legally claimed. Hortensius was persuaded to return to court and speak in mitigation. AS a reward Verres gave him an ivory figurine of a sphinx. In the course of his own address, Cicero made some enigmatic remark and Hortensius interrupted: “I am afraid I’m no good at solving riddles.” “Oh, really,” snapped Cicero. “In spite of having a sphinx at home?”
Although Cicero had done little more than call witnesses and examine them, he had been able to display his eloquence, or at least his wit, in a number of heated exchanges. He had no hesitation in delivering brutal and sometimes tasteless put-downs. When a Jewish freedman named Caecilius (his name suggests he was an ex-slave of the Metelli) tried to push himself forward instead of the Sicilian witnesses, Cicero remarked scornfully: “What can a Jew have to do with a pig?”—“Verres” meaning “uncastrated boar” in Latin. At another point in the proceedings, when Verres attacked Cicero for not having the most virile or healthy of constitutions, he replied: “Virility is something you would do better to discuss with your boys at home.” (One of Verres’s sons was supposed to be promiscuously homosexual.)
Even though their property was not restored, the Sicilians were delighted by the verdict. Cicero’s routing of Hortensius was a professional turning point. He was now beyond dispute the leading advocate of his day. Not wanting to waste the results of his researches, he worked up the documentation he had gathered on Verres into a series of speeches which he might have delivered had he had the chance.
These made a powerful case for reform of the courts and the jury system and also allowed Cicero to demonstrate his mastery of presentation. He spoke explicitly on the subject. “Gentlemen of the jury, you must take thought and make provision for your public credit, for your good name, for your common interest in self-preservation. Your spotless characters make it impossible for you to behave badly, save at the cost of damaging and endangering the state. For if you are unable to arrive at a correct judgment in this case, the Roman People cannot expect that there will be other Senators who can. It will despair of the Senatorial Order as a whole and look around for some other type of man and some other method of administering justice.” Later in the autumn the Senatorial monopoly of juries was rescinded and their share of the membership reduced to one third, the remainder being allocated to equites and others.
On January 1, 69, Cicero took up his duties as Aedile and addressed the task of staging various festivals—that of Ceres with its circus games on or about April 19; ten days or so later, the celebrations in honor of Flora, goddess of flowers, with its program of popular plays and striptease shows; and from September 4 to 19 the great Roman Games (Ludi Romani), which featured drama performances and chariot races. Aediles were expected to supplement the official budget from their own pockets and there was fierce competition to stage the most splendid and extravagant events. Cicero’s resources were limited and he could not afford the kind of conspicuous expenditure with which Julius Caesar would cut a dash when he was Aedile later in the decade. However, his clientela in Sicily apparently made up for any deficiencies by flooding Rome with foodstuffs and so keeping the cost of living artificially low. This won Cicero golden opinions among the urban masses.
He continued to be very busy in the law courts, where his dominance was confirmed by Hortensius’s gradual withdrawal into a luxurious private life. He undertook no further prosecutions. Cicero led the defense in the trial of a provincial governor who faced corruption charges. Although probably a Verres on a small scale, he was presented as being completely innocent, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Cicero’s conscience was clear; he took the view that an advocate’s task was to win, not to uncover the truth. AS he observed towards the end of his life: “It is the judge’s responsibility always to seek the truth in trials; while it is the advocate’s to make out a case for what is probable, even if it doesn’t precisely correspond to the truth.”
In 68 the surviving correspondence with his old school friend Atticus begins. For the first few years only a handful of letters survives (the flood starts in 61), but they provide our first direct insight into Cicero’s personal life. Although Quintus, his younger brother, made no attempt to compete with him as a public speaker, he too set his sights on a political career and served as Quaestor. With Cicero playing matchmaker, Quintus had married Atticus’s sister, Pomponia, a couple of years earlier. Both husband and wife were hot tempered and the relationship was stormy. Sexual chemistry seems to have been lacking. In November 68, Cicero reported to Atticus his attempts to act as marriage counselor. He was anxious that “my brother, Quintus, should feel towards her as a husband ought. Thinking that he was rather out of temper I sent him a letter designed to mollify him as a brother, advise him as my junior and scold him as a man on the wrong track.” His efforts seem to have had some success, for in the following year he reported that Pomponia was pregnant. She gave birth to a son, who, following Roman custom, was named after his father.
In the same letter we meet other members of the family for the first time: Cicero’s wife, Terentia, who “has a bad attack of rheumatism,” and his daughter, “my darling little Tullia,” perhaps now seven or eight years old. In the following year, she was formally engaged to Caius Calpurnius Piso Frugi, great-grandson of a distinguished historian and Consul. This aristocratic link was an important aspect of Cicero’s plan to establish himself as a rising man in public life. The wedding took place some years later, in 62.
In 65 Cicero’s second and last child, Marcus, was born. Cicero’s father probably died at about this time, and so did his dearly loved cousin, Lucius, who had been with him in Greece and had helped him collect evidence against Verres. They had been very close. Cicero was deeply upset and told Atticus: “All the pleasure that one human being’s kindness and charm can give another I had from him.”
The letters between the two friends show a growing interest in property investment. Atticus bought an estate near the town of Buthrotum in Epirus, across the strait from the island of Corcyra. Here he raised sheep, cattle and horses on a large scale. Cicero was not interested in farming; what he wanted was a country retreat, or more precisely a growing number of them, where he could refresh himself and renew his energies away from the noise and ceaseless social demands of Rome. He acquired a villa at Formiae, a fashionable seaside resort, and another at Tusculum, in the Alban Hills southeast of the city, which had once belonged to Sulla. Although the exact number is uncertain, Cicero ultimately owned at least nine villas and other real estate.
Of all his properties Tusculum was, and remained, his favorite. “I am delighted with my place at Tusculum, so much so that I feel content with myself when, and only when, I get there.” He spent large amounts of money on decoration and sculpture; he knew he was being extravagant, but could not stop himself. A hundred years later a citrus table of his was still in existence, which was reputed to have cost him the fabulous sum of 500,000 sesterces. He was always pestering Atticus in Greece to look out for any suitable objets d’art, and he used his uncomplaining friend as purchaser, shipping agent and artistic adviser. Contemporary taste favored the masterpieces of Greek art, whether copies or, more expensively, originals.
It is an interesting question how Cicero made his money. He inherited land and property from his father and Terentia’s dowry had been handsome. But, as a Senator, he was not allowed to engage in trade or to invest money for interest; although many of his colleagues cheated or bent the rules, there is no evidence he did so. It was not the done thing to profit from book sales and his record as a public administrator suggests that he resisted bribes. He was not allowed to charge legal fees. However, those whom he defended in the courts were expected to find ways of expressing their gratitude and many named him in their wills. Looking back at the end of his career, Cicero estimated that he had grossed 20 million sesterces in legacies, a very substantial sum, which would make him a multimillionaire by today’s standards.