Antony and Cleopatra

by Adrian Goldsworthy

  Each side had overwhelmed the enemy on one flank. Brutus does not seem to have made any real effort to keep in communication with Cassius and did not know of his defeat until too late. He is said to have noticed that the general’s tent had been struck in his ally’s camp. Antony had led the attack on the wall and camp in person, energising the men he was with, but as a result losing touch with the wider picture. It would probably have been difficult for him to regain control over Octavian’s leaderless men anyway. Both sides simply withdrew to their own positions. Casualties may have been heavier amongst the triumvirs’ men, but the conspirators suffered a very serious blow when Cassius lost heart. Unaware of Brutus’success, he mistook a party of friendly cavalry for the enemy – he was short-sighted and took their greeting to one of his officers as a cry of triumph – and ordered a slave to kill him. By coincidence, it was his birthday.23

  For nearly three weeks the armies went back to watching each other warily. Brutus quickly issued a generous bounty to Cassius’soldiers, hoping to keep their loyalty. They remained in their separate camp and there were signs that the two armies struggled to cooperate. A hillock near the camp that had been permanently picketed by Cassius was abandoned on Brutus’ orders – perhaps simply as a mistake – and was quickly occupied and fortified by Octavian’s men. Unable to provoke another battle, the triumvirs reverted to Antony’s plan of getting around the enemy flank, building on this gain.24

  On 23 October Brutus felt forced to offer battle again, from fear of this threat to his supply lines and also suspicions about the loyalty of the soldiers. The second battle was fought at a right angle to the first battle and he no longer had such an advantage of position. Ironically, the triumvirs had just learnt that a convoy carrying two of their legions, one of them the Martia, had been caught by enemy ships and destroyed. A deserter brought the news to Brutus, who refused to believe it, and the sources suggest his mood was fatalistic by this stage. The battle was hard fought, but the triumvirs’ men made steady progress, Appian says they drove Brutus’ legionaries back step by step, like men pushing heavy machinery. There is no evidence for any great tactical subtlety and it was simply a slogging match. In the end Brutus’ men broke and fled. He kept elements of four legions together during the retreat, but soon lost heart and, with assistance, committed suicide.25

  The triumvirs had won an overwhelming victory. Brutus and Cassius were both dead, as was Cato’s son and many other prominent aristocrats. Others surrendered and only a few continued the struggle, most drifting to join Sextus Pompey. The prisoners at Philippi are said to have hailed Antony, but jeered crudely at Octavian. The latter was certainly held to have been more vicious in executing a number of captives. A number of the prisoners who were pardoned chose to join Antony and would follow him loyally. He also won credit for treating Brutus’ corpse with honour, even wrapping it in his own general’s cloak according to one account. The body was decapitated and then cremated, and Antony had the ashes sent to Brutus’ mother Servilia. The head was sent separately to Rome –the sources are divided over whether Octavian or Antony ordered this – but was lost at sea.26

  Philippi was the greatest victory of Antony’s career. At the time and since, no one has seriously doubted that he played a far greater role than his younger colleague in winning the two battles and in the campaign as a whole. It was Antony who threatened to outflank the enemy line, precipitating the first battle, and then led his men into the enemy camp. His personal courage could not be doubted, unlike Octavian. Yet it had been a campaign fought by large and clumsy armies, containing many inexperienced soldiers, led by equally inexperienced generals and senior officers. Antony had seen far more military service than Brutus and Cassius as well as Octavian, but he had never in the past commanded such a large force. He had been bold, just as he had in Judaea and Egypt, and when he joined Caesar in Macedonia in 48 BC. He had been equally aggressive at Forum Gallorum and had suffered a bad defeat after his initial success. This time he had succeeded, but this might not have been the case if he had been unlucky or faced more able opponents.

  Amongst the spoils of the victory at Philippi, Antony added a fine, and unusually tall, bay horse to his stable. It had originally been owned by a man named Seius, but the latter had been executed on Antony’s orders, either in 44 BC or when he had been Caesar’s deputy in Italy. Dolabella purchased the horse and later took it with him to the east. When he was defeated and took his own life, the bay passed to the victorious Cassius. Now he, too, was dead and Antony became the possessor of a fine, if rather unlucky animal.27

  [XX]

  DIONYSUS AND APHRODITE

  Victory at Philippi brought new problems for the triumvirate. Tens of thousands of their soldiers were due for discharge. These men had been promised farms and most expected these to be on good land in Italy. The property confiscated from the proscribed and the dead supporters of Brutus and Cassius provided only a small part of what was needed. It was already obvious that territory would have to be seized from individuals and communities to be given to the soldiers. The task of overseeing this process was given to Octavian. His health was still poor – indeed he was so ill on the journey back to Italy that it was widely assumed he would die – and this was one good reason why he should return home. Redistribution of land on such a vast scale was bound to be a difficult job and likely to be an extremely unpopular one. No one would welcome having their land confiscated, while the veterans would balk at any provision that seemed less than generous.1

  Antony was surely glad to see this controversial task taken on by his colleague and content to remain in the east. Several commanders who could be expected to be loyal to him were in Italy and the western provinces. The most important was Quintus Fufius Calenus, who as governor of Caesar’s conquests in Gaul controlled eleven legions. Lepidus was already being marginalised, under suspicion of colluding with Sextus Pompey. The third triumvir was left in control of only the province of Africa, a region that was anyway not fully secure. Antony and Octavian divided the remaining provinces and armies between them.2

  For the moment there was plenty for Antony to do. The provinces and allied states of the eastern Mediterranean had been caught up in Rome’s internal struggles for much of the last decade. Levies of men, money, food and other resources had been imposed by a succession of leaders, most recently the conspirators. Leaders and communities had suffered, many had lost power, some had been deposed and a few killed. A small number had been lucky enough to avoid the worst depredations and had even grown in power. Virtually all had recently given aid to the conspirators.

  It was important to reorganise the entire region, to restore order and stability. Antony and the other triumvirs also needed money to pay their armies, which would still be very large even after the veterans had been demobilised. Many of the soldiers captured at Philippi were immediately enrolled in the triumviral legions. It was better than letting them go and running the risk that they would happily enlist with other leaders eager to fight their way to power. The eleven legions organised after Philippi contained many prisoners as well as men whose discharge was not yet due. There was also the question of the long-delayed Parthian War. A campaign on that scale required years of preparation, but Antony was probably already planning to undertake it. Philippi had bolstered his military reputation, but true glory could only be won against a powerful foreign enemy and one whose humiliation of Rome had not been avenged. The eagles of Crassus’ legions remained trophies of the Parthian king. 3

  Antony was the obvious candidate from amongst the triumvirate for the task of reorganising the east. He was older than Octavian, who was just twenty-one, and his reputation was much greater. He was also in robust health, unlike his younger colleague. In addition, neither of his colleagues had spent anywhere near as much time in the Hellenistic east. Antony spent the winter of 42-41 BC in Athens, a city he knew well from his time studying there in the 50s BC. He happily adopted Greek styles of dress, attended lectures and dramatic perfo
rmances, and actively relished the physical exercise and display of the gymnasia. Plenty of Romans, including serving governors and army commanders, had in the past thrown themselves into Hellenic culture in this way. Brutus had spent several months at Athens in 44 BC, posing as nothing more than a visitor, keen to share in the traditions of the city. He was popular as a result, and so was Antony. The Athenians and other Greeks could not ignore or ever hope to challenge the reality of Roman rule. When leading Romans displayed a love of Greek culture, to some extent acknowledging its superiority, then it made it easier for them to accept this hard fact. 4

  From early on, delegations came to Antony, asking for favours, arbitration in disputes and redress from penalties imposed on them by the conspirators or other grievances. In the spring of 41 BC he crossed into Asia Minor and travelled through the province, dealing with petitioners and raising revenue. He also feasted and celebrated, enjoying power and wealth as he had always done. Plutarch says that musicians, dancers and actors from the provinces rushed to join his household. When Antony processed into Ephesus, he was preceded by dancers dressed as Bacchantes, the wild female devotees of the cult of the wine god Dionysus/Bacchus, as well as boys and men garbed as satyrs. The crowd there and elsewhere readily hailed him as the god. This was Hellenic culture as well, if a different side of it to the educated tastes of aristocrats in Classical Athens.5

  Other Romans had also been hailed as gods in the eastern provinces, most recently Pompey and Caesar. The Rhodians had hailed Cassius as ‘Lord and King’, to which he had bluntly replied that he was neither, but a killer of both. Such sentiments did not prevent him from plundering the captured city. Antony had no need to use force, but made very heavy demands on the provincials. All told, he demanded something like nine years’ worth of normal levies, but wanted them paid in just two years. Some of this he spent in spectacular gifts to his disreputable followers. A cook who had prepared a feast for him was rewarded with a house taken from an aristocrat. When Antony announced that he required a second levy from the province before the end of the year, an orator named Hybreas managed to dissuade him by asking whether the Roman general could also arrange for a second harvest. Hyrbreas continued by pointing out that since Antony had already collected 200,000 talents from them, he must realise that they had no more to give –and if Antony had not received the money, then he ought to be talking to his officials rather than the poor provincials.6

  Antony liked blunt speech, especially when it was leavened with humour. It was widely believed that he was often manipulated by others who pretended to be plain speaking. There were other ways of influencing Antony. He liked women, and it was believed that many eastern rulers felt it easier to let their wives persuade the Roman. There were two claimants for the throne of Cappadocia, and the mother of one of them, Glaphyra, caught his eye. She had been the mistress of Archelaus, the dynast of Comana, until he was called away to marry Berenice IV. Although illegitimate, her son was his child and so possessed royal blood. For a while at least Glaphyra was believed to have become Antony’s mistress. A snatch of verse written by Octavian claimed that ‘Antony screws Glaphyra, so Fulvia as revenge wants to nail me’. For the moment she was not persuasive enough, and the rule of Cappadocia went to the other claimant.7

  When there was no special persuasion involved, Antony generally favoured communities that had suffered for opposing Brutus and Cassius and punished their enthusiastic supporters. The inhabitants of the Jewish towns enslaved by Cassius were freed and their property restored. Rhodes gained some territory and was exempted from taxation for the moment, as was Lycia, where Brutus had stormed Xanthus and extorted money from other cities.

  The tyrant of Tyre seems to have been deposed, both for his enthusiasm for Cassius and using this as a pretext to seize Jewish territory. When Antony wrote to the city he addressed his letter to ‘the magistrates, council and people’ and stressed that his recently defeated ‘adversaries’ had not been granted commands by the ‘Senate, but they seized them by force’. Tyre was ordered to return to the rule of Hyrcanus any territory taken from Judaea. In a letter to Hyrcanus, Antony spoke of the tyranny of Brutus and Cassius as an offence against the gods, and how he wanted ‘to let our allies also participate in the peace given us by God; and so, owing to our victory, the body of Asia is now recovering, as it were, from a serious illness’.8

  The triumvirate needed money, and no doubt some communities found Antony’s rule just as oppressive and demanding as that of Brutus and Cassius. Perhaps some felt that they were worse off and there was little sign of recovering. However, we do know of leaders who had aided the conspirators and yet were confirmed in power. Antipater, the second in command and military commander of Hyrcanus, had by this time been murdered, and power passed to his sons Herod and Phaesel. The former had proved especially willing to meet Cassius’ demands for money. In spite of this Antony confirmed them in power, no doubt feeling that they would keep the generally pro-Roman Hyrcanus secure.9

  Antony continued his progress through the provinces. Hostile sources characterise this whole period as one of indulgence, loose control that allowed unscrupulous followers to abuse their position, arbitrary decisions and squeezing the provincials for money. Yet, where his decisions are known in any detail, they seem reasonable, and certainly well within the character of Roman provincial administration in this period. The triumvirs desperately needed revenue, but this need would not go away and it was important for them to restore long-term stability to the empire. Antony and his colleagues had to create a situation where the provinces and allies would supply them with a substantial and steady income year after year.

  TARSUS

  In 41 BC Antony summoned Cleopatra to come to him at the city of Tarsus in Cilicia – later home of St Paul, who dubbed it ‘no mean city’. We do not know whether she had already sent envoys to him on his journeys, but this is quite possible. Like all the other rulers of the region, she needed to be sure that her power was confirmed and the triumvirs would adhere to the recognition they had given to her joint rule with Caesarion. Her kingdom was the greatest single source of grain and money in the eastern Mediterranean, so it was obviously a prime concern for Antony to ensure that he could draw on these resources, both for the moment and for the eventual war against Parthia.10

  Questions had been raised over her conduct during the struggle with the conspirators. Serapion in Cyprus had actively aided them, and the queen herself had promised much to Cassius, even if she had not delivered anything, while her attempt to join the triumvirs with a fleet had failed. It is worth remembering that an alternative to Cleopatra existed. Antony had paid a long visit to Ephesus. During that time he may well have confirmed the rights of the great Temple of Artemis there. It is inconceivable that he had not had some contact with Arsinoe, or at least her representatives. Antony had backed her claim in 44 BC and there was no assurance that he would not now decide that replacing Cleopatra with her younger sister might allow him to exploit Egypt’s and Cyprus’ resources more effectively.11

  Antony sent Quintus Dellius to Alexandria to summon the queen. Dellius had already defected from Dolabella to Cassius, and then Cassius to Antony, and in later years wrote a racy history of the period, which has not survived, but may well have influenced Plutarch’s account. He claimed to have realised at once that Antony could be swept away by a woman like Cleopatra. Guessing that this would happen and that she would win his favour, he decided that it would be advantageous for him to assist the queen. Dellius encouraged her to dazzle Antony, assuring her that he could readily be persuaded to do what she wanted.12

  Cleopatra did not hurry her journey to Tarsus. A succession of letters arrived demanding that she hasten, but she ignored them all, determined to appear at a moment of her own choosing and in the most spectacular style. Unlike her meeting with Caesar, there was no need to sneak into his presence. Drawing on her family’s long tradition of building luxurious pleasure craft, she transferred into a specially prepared shi
p for the final stage of her journey up the River Cydnus into Tarsus. Its sails were of rich purple, the prow of gold and rowers plied silver-tipped oars to the music of flutes, oboes and lyres. Her father would no doubt have been proud of such a performance. Everything about the craft was lavish and incense in generous quantities was burned so that the fine smells wafted onto the banks of the river.

  Cleopatra ‘herself reclined beneath a gold-embroidered canopy, adorned like a painting of Aphrodite, flanked by slave-boys, each made to resemble Eros, who cooled her with fans. Likewise her most beautiful female slaves, dressed as Nereids and Graces, were stationed at the rudders and ropes.’13

  Aphrodite was one of the many goddesses whose character had been subsumed into the Hellenised cult of Isis, and Cleopatra was the New Isis. However, it is probably a mistake to see her as rigidly bound by this association. Plutarch’s description does not suggest an especially Egyptian – even an idealised Greek vision of Egyptian –flavour to this performance. It was about spectacle, and most of all about glamour and wealth. Some see it as solely designed with Antony’s tastes in mind. One historian dubbed it ‘a vulgar bait to catch a vulgar man’.14

  It soon had the impact Cleopatra had intended. Plutarch tells us that a crowd quickly gathered to watch the progress of the royal barge along the river. Antony was supposedly receiving petitions in front of a large gathering in Tarsus itself. Then rumour started to spread that the goddess Aphrodite was on her way, and people began slipping away to see the wondrous spectacle. In the end, Antony and his household were left on their own and so trailed along behind. The cry went up that Aphrodite had come to feast with Dionysus for the good of all Asia. It did not matter if for some this meant Aphrodite/Isis and Dionysus/Osiris, while for others different aspects of the deities were important. There was genuine enthusiasm for the display, well within the traditions of the Hellenistic monarchies and drawing on even older roots.