Their armies did not want a war, and it is unlikely that Antony and Octavian were themselves enthusiastic, for neither had much to gain. There was still too much to be done for one of them to feel confident that he could control the empire at present. If Antony destroyed Octavian, then there was no assurance that Sextus Pompey, or whoever emerged as the dominant leader in the west, would be any less of a threat in the future. Neither side was properly prepared for war, which made the outcome even less certain. Fighting would have been a dangerous gamble for both Antony and Octavian, and it was only the fear that the other one was determined to fight that made the prospect at all acceptable to either of them. In the past, mutual suspicion and fear had fostered more than one civil war. This time, the reluctance of the rival armies forced their leaders to hold back. Serious fighting did not occur and that made it easier for Antony and Octavian to negotiate.
The talks were conducted by Asinius Pollio for Antony and a young equestrian named Caius Maecenas for Octavian, with the senior officer Lucius Cocceius Nerva, who had the confidence of the troops, as a neutral. No one was there to represent Lepidus, reflecting the continuing decline in his importance. Maecenas was one of Octavian’s earliest supporters and closest friends, and over the years proved himself a wily political operator, as well as later a patron of poets like Virgil and Horace. By September 40 BC, these three had put together what is known as the Treaty of Brundisium.
Antony and Octavian split the empire between them, leaving Lepidus with only Africa. Octavian kept Gaul, so that he now effectively controlled all of the western provinces, while Antony held the east. The boundary between the two was set at Scodra in Illyria. Antony seems to have been formally charged with the war against Parthia, while Octavian was to regain Sicily and the other islands occupied by Sextus Pompey, unless the latter proved willing to negotiate a peace. This was the only concession to Sextus and he clearly felt cheated. Ahenobarbus did better, receiving a pardon. He had been condemned along with Caesar’s assassins, although it seems that he was not actually part of the conspiracy. A few others were pardoned, and Antony and Octavian each executed one of their more prominent followers. Antony killed a somewhat shadowy agent of his named Manius, because he had encouraged Lucius and Fulvia to rebel. He is also said to have told Octavian that one of his generals had offered to defect to him. The man was summoned on a pretext and then killed, the triumvirs getting the Senate to pass its ultimate decree to give a veneer of legality to the death.7
Concordia (concord) was proclaimed and soon being celebrated throughout Italy. Whatever their attitude to the triumvirate, the fear of fresh civil war was deeply felt and the relief genuine. As so often, a marriage alliance confirmed a political bargain. Fulvia had died –Antony is said to have felt guilty about his coolness towards her in Athens, but in all respects this was remarkably convenient. Octavian’s older sister Octavia had recently been widowed, when her husband Marcellus, the consul of 50 BC, died. She was about thirty. Roman law stipulated that ten months should pass between the death of one husband and the taking of another, since this would make clear the paternity of any child. Antony and Octavian had the Senate pass a special decree exempting Octavia from this and the wedding was celebrated almost immediately.
Antony and Octavian had coins minted showing the face of the other. Antony also issued a series with Octavia on the reverse, making her the first Roman woman to appear on coinage. Another of Octavian’s coins showed clasped hands as a further sign of the new concord. The poet Virgil wrote of a new golden age, to be ushered in by the birth of a boy – clearly a hoped for child of Antony and Octavia. In the event, she actually bore him the first of two daughters, but by that time the mood had already become less optimistic.8
Antony and Octavian each celebrated an ovation when they went to Rome late in the year. It was a lesser ceremony than a triumph, but still impressive, although it was not quite clear what victories were being commemorated. Much like the honours to Caesar, it marked the triumvirs out as greater than normal magistrates. The crowds may well have cheered the processions. Yet the population was far less enthusiastic when more extraordinary taxes were announced. To make matters worse, Sextus Pompey refused to be ignored and was effectively blockading the major sea lanes to Italy. Food was short and prices high. People did not blame Sextus but the triumvirs for not coming to terms with him. Octavian was threatened by a mob when he appeared in the Forum with very few bodyguards. Missiles were thrown and he was injured.
Antony brought a small force of soldiers along the Via Sacra to help his colleague. Perceived as more favourable to a peace with Sextus, no stones were thrown, but a determined crowd blocked the path. When he tried to force his way through, they began to lob missiles at him. Antony retreated, gathered more soldiers and then attacked the Forum from two directions. He and his men cut their way to Octavian and his party and managed to bring them out. Corpses were dumped in the river to conceal the number of deaths. In the end the crowd dispersed, but it was clear that their resentment was only held in check by the naked force of the triumvirs.9
It was now clear that they needed to deal with Sextus and since they did not have the naval power to defeat him, negotiation was the only option. Approaches were made through relatives, including Sextus’ mother. There were preliminary talks in the spring of 39 BC off the resort city of Baiae and for the first time Pompey’s son met Caesar’s son and his ally Antony. The rival sides stood on specially prepared platforms sunk into the beach within comfortable earshot, but offering security from sudden attack. It was not enough to overcome mutual suspicion and the talks broke down. Finally, off Misenum in the late summer a second meeting was held and an agreement reached.
Sextus Pompey was in his late twenties and had never been enrolled in the Senate, even before he had been outlawed in 43 BC along with the conspirators and other enemies of the triumvirate. Now he was named as governor of Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica – all of which he anyway controlled – and also the Peloponnese in Greece, which he did not. Sextus joined Antony in the college of augurs, and was nominated for a consulship in 33 BC. (He would still have been too young for the office, but such breaches of the old laws no longer caused much comment.) In return, he agreed to end his naval blockade. Much to his credit, Sextus also insisted on restoring rights to the proscribed and other exiles, allowing them to return and take back at least a quarter of their property. Only the few surviving conspirators were excluded from this pardon. The proscriptions were to be ended. Runaway slaves who had served in his fleet were granted their freedom.
The Peace of Misenum for a while brought to a halt the civil wars that had split the Roman Republic since 44 BC – indeed, virtually since Caesar crossed the Rubicon in January 49 BC. There was genuine celebration when the news spread, especially when trade began to flow more normally and the food shortages in Rome and elsewhere came to an end. The immediate celebrations involving the leaders on each side seem to have begun rather nervously and it was rumoured that most of those attending the great banquet to mark the event carried concealed daggers. When Antony and Octavian both dined on board Sextus’ flagship, one of his admirals is supposed to have suggested cutting the cable and disposing of them, seizing power in one fell swoop. The response became famous, for Sextus said that he could not break faith in this way and wished that the man had simply acted without seeking his permission. From the beginning, the truce was uneasy.10
ATHENS
Having spent almost a year in Italy, Antony set out again for the east, taking Octavia with him. It was perhaps a sign of affection, for although the marriage was one of political convenience, at least at the beginning it seems to have been reasonably happy. Antony readily responded to affection, and his new wife was both attractive and intelligent. It was widely believed that he had fallen in love with her, yet there was probably more to it than this. Roman provincial governors did not take their wives out to their provinces. Even during civil wars, this was extremely unusual and Pompey the G
reat’s wife Cornelia was a rare exception. There was no threat to Octavia if she remained in Italy – as Fulvia had done in 44 BC, and Brutus’ and Cassius’ wives throughout the civil war. She was indeed the clearest symbol of the renewed alliance between her brother and husband. The most likely reason for her accompanying Antony was that all concerned felt it was a good idea to keep this symbol with him as reminder of the new, closer bond with Octavian.
The couple spent the winter together in Athens. Octavia was well educated, but Roman women got few opportunities to travel abroad and this was probably her first visit to the famous city. Their daughter, Antonia the elder, was born before they arrived and Antony made a show of laying aside many of his formal duties for the quiet life of a private citizen. His attendants were reduced to a minimum, and once again he dressed in Greek fashion and attended lectures and exercised in the gymnasium. With his wife he dined in the local manner and took part in the cycle of religious festivals, which involved sacrifices and other rituals as well as sumptuous feasting. One Stoic philosopher dedicated a book to Octavia. Antony accepted the civic office of gymnasiarch, dressing up in the white shoes and robe and carrying the staff of office. It was an annual post tasked with overseeing the lives and education of the ephebes, the youths training in the gymnasium.
The Athenians played along with the charade, just as the Alexandrians had pretended not to recognise the Roman general and their own queen when they dressed as slaves. Yet the Panathenaic festival games were named Antonian in his honour. At the same time they proclaimed Antony as the ‘New God Dionysus’, and he and Octavia as the ‘Beneficent Gods’. There seems to have been some form of sacred alliance or marriage between the New Dionysus and the city’s own goddess, Athena. Antony accepted this as an honour, but also insisted on a substantial sum of money from the city as dowry for his new bride.11
In spite of this and other levies, Antony was once again popular with a Greek audience, especially the Athenians. The Romans taxed them anyway, and at least he showed respect to their culture. The honours were not unprecedented – Caesar had also allowed himself to become gymnasiarch – and were part of a wider promotion of his status. Appian claims that he received few delegations over the winter months, although he accepted and responded to letters. Although the triumvirs often presented their actions as constitutional, and referred their decisions to the Senate for approval, the provincial and allied communities were fully aware that real power lay with Octavian and Antony. Cities approached them directly for favours. The city of Aphrodisias set up a series of long inscriptions on the wall of its theatre recording decisions made by the triumvirs and stated baldly that:
Whatever rewards, honours, and privileges Caius Caesar or Mark Antony, triumvirs to restore the state, have given or shall give, have allotted or shall allot, have conceded or shall concede by their own decree to the people of Plarasa or Aphrodisias, all these should be deemed as having come justly and regularly.12
It was clear that the Senate would not challenge any decision of the triumvirs. Aphrodisias was in Asia Minor, and thus clearly within the provinces allocated to Antony, and it is interesting that they felt free to approach Octavian independently, and that he was willing and able to make decisions in response. Other communities appear to have acted in the same way. There is much less evidence for civic life in the western provinces – in part, because this was less developed in many areas – but it seems more than likely that some of these went to Antony rather than Octavian for favours and rulings. On the other hand, perhaps there were simply more problems needing attention in the east, for the recent Parthian invasion had spread disorder over a wide area.
At the end of the winter, Antony resumed the full pomp and ceremony of his rank as triumvir, donned the uniform of a Roman magistrate and general, and made it clear that he was available to receive petitioners.
[XXII]
INVASION
Cleopatra gave birth to twins in 40 BC. The boy was named Alexander and the girl Cleopatra. A few years later they would be dubbed ‘the Sun’ and ‘the Moon’- Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene. It seems to have been at this point that Antony openly acknowledged them as his children, but no doubt he was informed of their birth soon after it occurred. Whether or not he and Cleopatra had formal contact in these years, they certainly took care to keep informed about the other’s activities. Personal feelings aside, this was simply sound politics.1
Antony already had at least three children. His first marriage to the freedman’s daughter Fadia seems to have produced offspring, but these may have died young – the fate of so many infants in the ancient world. Antony’s daughter Antonia is generally held to be the child of his second wife and first cousin, Antonia, and not of Fadia. Fulvia gave him two sons, Marcus Antonius, also known as Antyllus, and Iullus Antonius. In 39 BC Octavia bore him the first of two daughters, both of course called Antonia, and known as Major and Minor to distinguish them in modern studies. Unlike Caesar, who had lost his only recognised child when Julia died, for Antony there was less of a novelty when his royal lover bore him twins. 2
There were anyway far more worrying concerns for both Antony and Cleopatra. Early in 40 BC, a Parthian invasion swept through Syria. It was led by Pacorus, son of King Orodes II and favoured heir to the throne. With him was Quintus Labienus, son of the man who had been Caesar’s ablest legate in Gaul, but who had defected –or perhaps returned to an older allegiance – to Pompey at the start of the civil war. The elder Labienus had died at Munda. His son – another of the young men who so dominated public life and the civil wars after Caesar’s death – sided with Brutus and Cassius and was sent by them to seek help from Orodes II. In 49 BC Pompey had made a similar request and few Roman leaders showed any reluctance in seeking foreign allies to win a civil war. Yet this was still politically sensitive and the attempt to win over the Allobroges by Lepidus and the other conspirators had utterly discredited them in 63 BC. In any event, the Parthian king proved cautious and gave no active support to either Pompey or the conspirators. Labienus was still with him when Philippi was lost and Brutus and Cassius took their own lives.3
What happened next was unprecedented. The figure of the exiled prince or aristocrat serving as a mercenary with a foreign monarch was a common enough one in the ancient world, especially amongst the Greek cities. Both of the fifth century BC Persian invasions of Greece included such exiles, providing information in the hope of being restored to power through foreign aid. However, Roman senators did not behave this way. There were no Roman aristocrats with Pyrrhus or Hannibal when they led their armies into Italy. Even when the competition between ambitious Roman senators became violent, no one imagined they could be restored to power by a foreign army. Subordinate allies were acceptable, but not the prospect of accompanying an invading enemy.
Labienus was amongst the proscribed and could expect to be executed if he was caught. Presumably he concluded that the Republic no longer existed and any means were acceptable to defeat the tyranny of the triumvirs. He still saw himself as a Roman general and would issue coins with the proper symbols of office. He also styled himself Parthicus, but this seemed ironic since such titles were only taken by men who defeated a foreign enemy and he served alongside the Parthians. Our sources portray him as persuading Orodes II to attack the Roman provinces. More probably he provided useful intelligence of the vulnerability of their defences and offered the hope of persuading some of the soldiers to defect, for in truth the Parthian king is unlikely to have needed much encouragement.4
When Crassus launched his unprovoked attack on Parthia, Orodes II had been king for barely four years and only recently defeated a rival for the throne. Attempts to placate the Roman commander failed, but then came the sudden, overwhelming defeat of the invaders at Carrhae. Orodes and his main army were not there and the victory was won by a member of one of the great Parthian aristocratic houses. This man celebrated his success too blatantly and was soon executed by the king. Even so, the Parthians q
uickly recovered all the territory lost to Crassus, attacking deep into Syria in the following years.
The Roman Republic was an aggressive neighbour. The decades of internal conflict also made it highly unpredictable. Parthia was itself an empire created by aggressive warfare. Roman and Parthian armies had defeated most of their enemies in the near east with almost disdainful ease. Now, Carrhae seemed to show that the legions were also no match for the armoured cataphracts and fast-moving horse archers that were the great strength of the Parthian army. For much of the next decade, Orodes had other problems to deal with and restricted himself to minor interventions in Rome’s civil wars. Caesar’s plans for a grand expedition to Parthia were no secret, and Dolabella and Antony in turn talked of fulfilling this ambition. Before Antony went to winter in Alexandria at the end of 41 BC, he sent a cavalry raid to plunder the city of Palmyra, which lay beyond the borders of Syria. The Parthians saw this as clear confirmation of future aggressive intent.5
By 41 BC Orodes II was free from other threats and had the benefit of the detailed information provided by Labienus. Defeating Rome would also greatly strengthen the position of his chosen heir, Pacorus, and ideally prevent any challenges from Orodes’ other sons or relatives when the throne passed to him. The main target of the war was Syria, once the heartland of the Seleucid Empire that the Parthians themselves had supplanted. Culturally and geographically, it seemed a natural addition to Orodes’ realm.
Antony and Cleopatra Page 31
