The Ides of March: Julius Caesar is killed in the Senate

The historian Plutarch, writing in the late 1st century AD, paired Julius Caesar with Alexander the Great in his book Parallel Lives and provided a vivid account of Caesar’s final day - almost like a live commentary—detailing his departure, movements through the city, and fateful arrival at the Senate, where he was assassinated.

Our brief historical account below is based on this source.

The last Day of Julius Caesar

It’s a spring morning. Caesar opens the windows to the Forum, feeling the dawn in his eyes. There’s a pain in losing it, especially when Calpurnia calls out to him. If only he knew it would be the last time, he might have ignored her warnings. “Not today, Caesar, don’t go to the Senate,” she shouts. “The dreams are clear, the gods are against you, the soothsayers keep saying it.” But Caesar knows the Senate will declare him king in the provinces. Orders must be given, decisions made. The Republic has to look like the Republic, not something crushed beneath his feet. Besides, his trip to the East is coming soon, the Parthians must be dealt with. And since when has Caesar feared death? If he dismissed the guards, it’s part of the plan. He controls life, but for death, all he needs is a handful of traitors and their daggers to finish him off like any other man. The more cowardly the strikes, the higher his name will rise.

The dawn becomes day, and the Ides of March go on. Caesar steps outside, and before the light even fully breaks, he’s surrounded by a crowd of followers, sycophants, and curious onlookers. With each step, it feels like thousands are following him. He’s not just a man but a wave moving through the Forum. He passes the old Senate, brushes past his new Forum with its gleaming marble and the beautiful Temple of Venus, and moves toward the Campus Martius. Along the way, many approach him, either to show respect or ask for favors. Artemidorus hands him a letter. “Read it soon and alone, it’s important,” he says. “I will,” Caesar replies, but he’ll never get the chance.

Meanwhile, in Pompey’s Senate, the conspirators renew their oath, locking eyes with each other. Despite their careful planning, something could still go wrong—someone might talk, everything could fall apart for nothing. Caesar is nearby when he meets the soothsayer Spurinna. He mocks the prophecy: “Here I am, on the Ides of March.” “But it hasn’t passed yet,” Spurinna responds. Caesar, irritated, quickens his pace and enters the Senate. The conspirators, caught off guard, freeze for a moment. Then the blood begins to flow, unstoppable.

Mark Antony is blocked in the atrium, and Caesar reaches the center of the Senate hall. The senators stand, and Tillius approaches to ask for a pardon for his exiled brother. “Not now,” Caesar says, “don’t insist,” and tries to walk away, but Tillius grabs his toga. Caesar turns quickly, locking eyes with him, but in that moment, he faces death. The conspirators attack him—around sixty in total—striking him like animals. Casca is the first, then his brother, and next is Brutus. It’s said Brutus might have been Caesar’s son, and perhaps he was. His mother, Servilia, had been Caesar’s lover. The stab from Brutus is lighter than the others, but in a way, it’s the sweetest of them all. Then the conspirators all join in, stabbing him over and over. As Caesar falls beneath the statue of Pompey—his son-in-law and dead enemy—he pulls his toga over his face. He holds on to death, which is not for anyone else, but for him alone.

The conspirators think they’ve won. They raise their bloodied daggers to the sky, celebrating. Rome is safe, the Republic is safe, and their dirty deeds are secure. They expect the crowd to cheer, the body of the dictator dragged through the streets and thrown into the river, the tyrant gone. But instead, the shops close, the streets empty, and the Romans lock themselves in their homes. Brutus, Cassius, Decimus Brutus, and Casca look at each other, shocked. Rome is in panic. This is the start of a long, new civil war.

The political career of Julius Caesar

Julius Caesar’s political rise was marked by ambition, brilliance, and ruthless pragmatism. As governor of Gaul (58–50 BC), he waged a brutal campaign to expand Roman control, massacring or enslaving entire populations, particularly during his war against the Gallic leader Vercingetorix. His victories brought him wealth and power but also fear and opposition in Rome. When the Senate, under Pompey’s influence, ordered him to disband his army, Caesar defied the command and crossed the Rubicon in 49 BC, igniting a civil war. His forces crushed Pompey’s troops, and after pursuing his rival to Egypt, he aligned with Cleopatra and secured his dominance.

Back in Rome, he eliminated political enemies, used populist tactics to consolidate power, and gradually dismantled Republican institutions. Though he claimed to uphold tradition, he ignored Senate authority, packed it with loyalists, and took the unprecedented title of dictator perpetuo (dictator for life). His unchecked power and disregard for the Republic’s principles made his assassination in 44 BC almost inevitable - a desperate attempt by senators to restore Rome’s fading democracy.

Our private tour follows in the footsteps of Julius Caesar on his path to death in the Senate

This private tour follows in Caesar’s footsteps on that last morning, bringing history to life as you walk the very path he took. Along the way, our expert historian will recount his extraordinary rise - from brilliant lawyer to formidable general, masterful statesman, and, ultimately, dictator - offering a deeper understanding of the political struggles that led to one of history’s most famous assassinations.