Marching With Caesar-Antony and Cleopatra: Part II-Cleopatra

by Peake, R. W.

  I do not imagine Antonius cared much about what Miriam, or seemingly anyone else for that matter, thought about his actions, because he certainly did not modify his behavior in any way. In fact, the greater the outcry was, it seemed to spur Antonius to ever greater excess, as if he were trying to prove to the world that he was above the conventions of Roman society. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Antonius’ tame Senators back in Rome to continue defending his actions while promoting his interests in the Senate, despite their best efforts. However, Octavian was relentless in his pursuit of enumerating all of Antonius’ supposed crimes; Antonius had behaved without honor in his capture of Artavasdes, he overstepped his authority in giving territories away to his children, since they belonged to Rome and not Antonius. Most importantly and most threateningly to Octavian, at least so I believe, was Antonius’ recognition of Caesarion as Caesar’s legitimate son, and in this Octavian was right to be worried. We veterans of Caesar’s army, especially those of us who had seen both Octavian and Caesarion, knew that the younger man was the living image of a young Gaius Julius Caesar. Such a powerful resemblance equates to an equally strong attraction to men who remembered the best years of their lives as those spent marching under the standard when the army was led by Caesar, so it is not idle speculation to say that if Caesarion grew to be a man and snapped his fingers, thousands of men would have come at his beckoning to lay down their lives for him. It is as close to a certainty as it is possible to be, and Octavian was nothing if not a very smart man who immediately saw the danger to his own status represented by Caesarion, so he did everything he could to denigrate the image of Caesarion as Caesar’s son. Octavian’s resemblance to Caesar was strong, but much of it was artifice, Octavian wearing boots with high soles to make him seem to be as tall as Caesar, while he had perfected Caesar’s mannerisms down to the way he tilted his head at certain moments, along with perfecting his way of speaking so that if one closed one’s eyes one would swear on Jupiter’s Stone that it was Caesar himself. Of course, the factor that worked in Octavian’s favor more than any other thing he did was the fact that we old veterans wanted him to be Caesar, that we wanted to believe that he was Divus Julius Caesar. For many years, Octavian was unchallenged in that regard, being accepted as not only Caesar’s son but the embodiment of Caesar himself. Then, Caesarion came along and now that he was in his teens, the buzzing amazement surrounding the boy could not be ignored. Where Octavian pretended to be Caesar, Caesarion was, in that indefinable but undeniable way where the essence of a man is passed on to his son. Ahenobarbus, Canidius, all of these men who had spent more time around the young man than I, swore that you did not have to close your eyes to know that it was Caesar speaking. In fact, looking back at all that transpired, I think that Cleopatra’s great error was in keeping Caesarion out of sight of the Roman people, particularly the army. For, if we had seen and heard him, there is no telling how differently our history would be written.

  This was the manner in which the rest of the year passed, with Octavian working methodically and tirelessly to undermine Antonius, while his older counterpart kept handing Octavian tools with which to dig. The matter of the veterans’ lands still was not settled, the moment rapidly approaching where Antonius would be forced to admit the truth to his retiring Legionaries, that there was no land to be had in Italia as had been promised. However, instead of concentrating on this matter, Antonius was either forced, or chose, depending on to whom you listened, to answer all the other charges Octavian was laying at his feet. I believe that yet again Octavian outmaneuvered Antonius, knowing his mark as well as any man did, sure that Antonius would be unable to discipline himself to concentrate on matters of larger import than his own pride and honor. By throwing out the variety of charges against Antonius that he did, Octavian kept Antonius so busy sending messages back, hotly contesting each one that Antonius either forgot or ignored the looming problem about to confront him. The end of the year saw the expiration of the Triumvirate, though why it was still referred to in this manner I do not know, since Lepidus was long gone, while neither side showed any real interest in renewing it for another term. This year Octavian was the senior Consul, and as custom dictated, he announced that he would be leaving Rome for the following year, despite having no plans on taking a governorship as would be normal, retiring to his ancestral estate in the country near Rome where he could keep an eye on things.

  The incoming Consuls were none other than Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus and Gaius Sosius, so that on the face of things it appeared that now Antonius would have the upper hand, between his tame Senators and Consuls solidly on his side. Sosius I did not know, though Ahenobarbus was well known to me. Despite the fact that I did not particularly like the man, I respected his ability. Most importantly, he was extremely loyal to Marcus Antonius, and was one of the few men who could voice his objections to Antonius without risking the wrath of the Triumvir. His loyalty to Antonius was put to the test almost immediately, when Antonius sent a letter that he wanted the two Consuls to read jointly before the first Senate meeting of the new year. It was a letter that Ahenobarbus refused to read, deeming the missive a further sign that Antonius had lost touch with the people of Rome. I do not believe that the Antonius of Gaul, or even Philippi would have committed such a basic mistake as to believe that a letter defending his awarding of territory to his children would do anything other than further inflame opinion against him. He had been removed from Rome too long, and I will admit under the influence of Cleopatra, to understand fully how much she and her Eastern ways were hated. I learned of these developments indirectly through Scribonius, who had resumed his correspondence with both his father and his brother, the latter of whom now sat in the Senate. According to Scribonius, his brother was what they called a pedarii, or back-bencher, too junior and too poor to have a real voice in what was taking place, meaning that as a result he was more of a spectator than participant, but reading his letters I could see that my friend was not the only member of the Scribonius family with wits about him. His prose was a little flowery for my tastes, especially for a letter to a brother, but his recounting of all that took place was certainly descriptive. Although neither Consul would read Antonius’ letter, that did not stop them from going on the offensive against Octavian. Their task was made easier when it finally came out, during open session of the Senate that Octavian refused to give up land in Italia for Antonius’ veterans, repeating his claim that since Antonius had supposedly conquered vast new territory that the men should be settled there. There was no way to keep news of this nature quiet, and I could easily imagine men literally running from the Senate meeting to dash off messages to friends or relatives in the retiring Legions to inform them that they would not be coming home to a plot of land after all. As many mistakes as Antonius made, he was not alone, and I believe this was one of Octavian’s errors, although it is hard to describe it as such, given how things turned out.

  In early Februarius, Gaius Sosius convened the Senate in order to push through a resolution to censure Octavian. According to Sosius, Octavian was the aggressor in this war of wills between him and Antonius. As proof, he listed all the compromises and concessions that Antonius had made over the previous years, and when they were enumerated in writing, as Scribonius’ brother did, it was clear that Antonius was making more of an attempt at a peaceful solution than his counterpart. When put the way Sosius had; according to Scribonius’ brother, it was one of the most powerful speeches he ever heard while sitting in the Senate, it was enough to sway the lower classes, thereby alarming Octavian into taking action. Even after the defection of a number of Antonius’ tame Senators after the news of what had come to be called his Donations in Alexandria, the combination of the remaining Antonians and those men like Scribonius’ brother who were trying to remain neutral was enough to pass the resolution of censure. Only a veto by one of Octavian’s bought and paid for Tribune of the Plebs Nonius Balbus kept the resolution from passing. Nonetheless, it was a
shocking defeat for the younger Triumvir. There is no doubt that it was this resolution that precipitated his reaction and all that followed.

  Returning to Rome from his villa, Octavian brought along a Cohort of hard-bitten Caesarian veterans, some of whom I knew from Gaul when Scribonius’ brother named them. With these men behind him, Octavian came to the Senate house, despite having no authority whatsoever to do so, calling for another meeting of the Senate. It was a mark of his power and authority, however unofficial it may have been at that moment that every man who was able to attended the meeting. Directing his own ivory curule chair to be set between those belonging to Ahenobarbus and Sosius in a thinly disguised show of his power, he then proceeded to answer the charges brought by Sosius. The fact that arrayed behind him along the wall were what I suspect were the most formidable looking of those followers, all of whom were wearing their daggers in another flaunting of the rules of the Senate, was the most likely reason that after he finished no man was willing to offer a reply. Scribonius’ brother wrote that one could have heard a gnat fart when Octavian was through, though he did not put it quite that way. Upon seeing that no Senator was willing to risk their lives in speaking out, the young Caesar got up, leaving the assembly to stew in its juices. The message was clear, but I do not believe Octavian counted on the reaction that followed from his display.

  “Ahenobarbus, Sosius, and about 300 Senators left Rome to go to Alexandria. They’re probably there by now,” was how Scribonius informed me of the next act in the unfolding drama, waving the letter from his brother, which had just arrived from the coast.

  “Left?” I exclaimed. “What does that mean?”

  He looked down at the letter, reading from it. “Quintus says that they left before Octavian announced that he could produce some sort of documentation of Antonius’ crimes that he spoke about at the first meeting. He claimed that he could provide proof of every one of Antonius’ crimes, that he had the document to prove it. Apparently Sosius really got under Octavian’s skin because our young Caesar was particularly scathing about the junior Consul.”

  “Probably because Sosius was the one to propose that resolution,” I suggested.

  “True,” Scribonius agreed. “Whatever the case, neither he nor Ahenobarbus stuck around to find out. They and the Senators left just the day before Octavian was to present his supposed evidence.”

  “Did he?”

  Scribonius read some more, then shook his head. “It doesn’t appear that he did. Quintus said that between the 300 Senators and the ones who stayed behind, but chose to stay inside their own walls, there wasn’t enough of a quorum, so Octavian didn’t bother. He’s got his hands full, since Ahenobarbus and the others left because they claimed that the Republic is dead and that Octavian was its murderer.”

  Something else had occurred to me. “What about Quintus? He didn’t leave with the others?”

  Again, Scribonius shook his head. “It’s bad enough that I’m over here and with Antonius. We decided that it was best if Quintus at least appear to be favorable to Octavian.”

  “We?” I asked.

  “My father, brother, and I,” he replied, his tone telling me that he invited no more questions on the subject, so I let it drop. Turning my attention back to the letter, I asked Scribonius if there was anything else noteworthy.

  “Just that Octavian is trying to put the best face on matters. He's putting it about that he allowed both Consuls and Senators to leave the city, that contrary to what people might hear, it had nothing to do with his actions.” He gave a chuckle. “I can imagine that there’s a lot of money being thrown about right about now. Octavian on one side, Antonius on the other, both of them claiming to be the injured party and that they alone are the saviors of the Republic.”

  “And neither of them are any of that,” I said sourly, thinking only of my own role in all this, knowing that there was still a reckoning coming.

  “Oh, and my brother’s wife is pregnant again,” Scribonius finished, but he did not sound especially happy about this. I did not comment, not wanting to pick at a scab that he clearly still found painful. Turning the conversation back to the safer ground of politics, I thought of the irony of that as I did so.

  “So what now?”

  Scribonius considered my question, but could only shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Then what good are you?” I grumbled.

  “What do you think is going to happen?” he shot back. “We’re going to be fighting at some point in the future. What else do you need to know?”

  I could not dispute the wisdom of that, so I did not try.

  I do not want to characterize the flow of upper class Romans as going all one way, although Ahenobarbus, Sosius, and the Senators was the largest bloc by far. All was not going smoothly in Alexandria, Roman men still finding it particularly irksome to take orders from a woman, even if she was a queen. The fact that they were actually in her kingdom did not help matters, so that even under the best of circumstances friction was most likely inevitable. As much as I do not agree with the characterization of Antonius as Cleopatra’s puppet, I cannot deny that she had an enormous influence on him, and I think she was the real source of the implacable hostility that most people ascribe to the relations between Antonius and Octavian. She clearly viewed Octavian, and even more importantly, Rome, as her enemy, and it was through Antonius she planned on bringing Egypt into ascendancy. While it would be nice to credit the Romans with whom she had the most contentious relationship with the motive of serving Rome’s best interests, I have little doubt that it had much more to do with how she rubbed them the wrong way than any higher calling. She could be overbearing, sarcastic, petty and, most maddeningly of all to a Roman man, superior in her dealings with every other person, no matter their station. For men of the upper classes it was the worst, because they had never been told by anyone what to do, especially by a woman. Therefore, it was not much of a surprise when we heard that our former quartermaster Titius, and Plancus, who was one of Antonius’ governors, went sailing out of Alexandria in a fit of temper, both of them angry with Cleopatra, after she took to restricting access to Antonius. They sailed directly to Rome, but it was what they took with them that proved to be the excuse that Octavian needed to declare war, doing so without breaking his vow never to attack a fellow Roman, and I learned of this development from an unlikely source.

  Uncle Tiberius came to the villa one evening, and one look at his face had me excusing myself from Miriam’s company, motioning the old man to follow me into the small office that I had taken to using for private meetings or when I had reports to complete that I did not want to sit in camp to finish. Motioning him to a seat, I did not immediately offer him refreshment, so he sat looking at me, almost literally drooling until I bit back a curse before calling one of the slaves to bring us some wine.

  “Not the good stuff,” I commanded, pleased to see the upset look on his wrinkled face.

  I indicated he should begin, but he shook his head. “I need something to fortify myself for what I’m about to tell you, and I suspect you’ll want the same for what you’re about to hear.” That was ominous indeed, but he refused to elaborate until he swilled a glass of unwatered wine. He pointed to my cup, then said, “Titus, my boy, you're really going to want that before I tell you.”

  “Just out with it,” I snarled, tired of the mystery.

  Instead of answering, he reached for the pitcher to pour another cup until I grabbed his arm to stop him.

  Sighing, he said, “Very well. I have news from Rome.”

  “I gathered as much,” I was trying to stay patient.

  “You heard that Titius and Plancus left Antonius in Alexandria and went to Rome, did you not?”

  This was old news, happening several weeks before, and I told him as much.

  He shook his head, the skin on his jowls quivering with the motion. “I doubt you heard this, since I just received word this afternoon when a ship from Ostia arriv
ed. When they went to Rome, they didn't go empty-handed. In fact, they brought something to Caesar that's beyond any value you could imagine.”

  He stopped, giving a longing look to the pitcher, so I grudgingly relented, pushing it towards him. He poured another cup, drained it, then smacked his lips, a habit of his I found particularly disgusting, although I said nothing.

  “What they brought was nothing less than the will of Marcus Antonius.”

  I sat up, fully intent on the old man now, sensing where this was headed while not fully believing it. There is nothing more inviolate to a Roman than his will, and every citizen with property has a will. Those with enough property to warrant it have their wills stored by the Vestal Virgins, in the temple of Vesta. In fact, that is where a copy of my own will is located. The Vestals guard these wills, not only with their lives but with the power and protection of Vesta, goddess of the hearth and protector of Rome.

  Uncle Tiberius continued talking, the wine finally loosening his lips. “More importantly, they knew what the will contained, and they told Caesar about it. It's what's in the will that I believe spells the end for Marcus Antonius, for he not only bequeathed Cleopatra with most of his fortune, but he affirms Caesarion as the true son of Divus Julius and rightful heir. Finally, he directs that on his death he be interred with Cleopatra in the manner of the Egyptians.”

  He gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of what would happen to Antonius’ body when it was prepared in the Egyptian ritual of burial. Sitting back, I was too stunned to speak, the old man giving me a grim smile as he pushed the pitcher close to my hand. I took it, poured myself a full cup, drinking it in one gulp as my mind tried to make sense of what I had just heard, and more importantly, what it meant. Then a thought occurred to me, and I shook my head in dismissal of the dire nature of the news. “Antonius is alive, and even if Titius and Plancus are telling the truth, the contents of a man’s will are sacred and won’t be known until after he dies. All Antonius has to do is deny it, and there's nothing Octavian can do about it.”