‘He has friends, mark my words. I am one, of course, and my mother is another. He has true friends among the best families in Rome. But the ones you should beware of are the fifty thousand friends of Caesar who march up and down the provinces with swords on their thighs.’
‘Oh, the soldiers liked him, I know. But the soldiers also like Antonius. He can manage the army. That is why we have paid such a high price for his allegiance.’
‘Yes, the soldiers like Antonius. They may like him less when this arrangement has been published. But I see that things have gone too far, and there’s nothing for it but to fulfil our promises. Supper for my horrible brother, for a start. I hope he has washed Caesar’s blood off his hands.’
That intimate little supper was the most agonizing social function that Lepidus could remember, though at intimate parties he was often awkward and unhappy. He reclined beside Brutus, much too close to that hairy, beefy, ungainly frame, which to his imagination still reeked of murder. On his right Porcia, as pig-like as her name, gazed on her husband with an expression of simpering adulation; beyond Brutus Junia sat stiffly upright, bristling like an offended cat. The ladies, on their high chairs, talked over the heads of the men, exchanging commonplaces of the kitchen or the nursery. Brutus started at every movement among the servants, as though he would fear assassination for the remainder of his life; he ate greedily and noisily, glad to get away from the scanty rations of the Capitol.
When the ladies had retired Brutus, with a noisy belch, settled himself comfortably and began to boast. ‘Antonius is behaving better than I had expected. I wonder whether the poor creature knows that it is only thanks to my exquisite sense of justice that he is alive today? My friends wished to kill him with his master; I forbade it. So far, Antonius has not attempted to play the tyrant; therefore to kill him would be murder. The killing of Caesar was of course tyrannicide, which is praised as a virtue in all the books. You might let Antonius know as much, if you can do it discreetly. His narrow escape may encourage him in virtue. Now as to the future. If we can spare Antonius we can work with Caesarians of lesser guilt. Antonius is taking Macedonia, the province allotted to Caesar. Decimus Brutus will have Cisalpine Gaul, which was to have gone to Antonius. When you are in the Narbonese he will be your neighbour. He will help you to bring justice to the helpless barbarians of Gaul, so long plundered by Caesarians. We must show the provinces that the righteous laws of Rome rule us now.’
‘I hope you will be more lenient in your own next province than you were in Cyprus, my dear brother-in-law,’ answered Lepidus, glad to revive an old score. ‘Don’t lend money to your subjects to enable them to pay your taxes; and if you do lend, charge a lower rate than sixty per cent.’
‘If the Cypriots could have borrowed cheaper they would not have come to me. When they owed me money I collected it. That is all that occurred. The law was always on my side. In future also I shall keep the law. Even Caesarians shall have justice. I will do nothing arbitrary. The real curse of a tyranny is arbitrary interference with due course of law.’ The long bony face took fire as he expounded his favourite topic. ‘No one minds very much whether he has a vote; on election day half the citizens don’t bother to come down to the Forum. But we all want to know what we may do, and what is forbidden. The law tells us that, in plain black and white. Caesar used to go about offering advice, as he called it; but if you disregarded his advice you were lucky to get off with exile. He interfered even in our private lives, in my private life. He let it be known that he took exception to my marriage with the virtuous daughter of a citizen who had attained curule office. No bride could be more worthy of a Junius Brutus. It was more than I could stomach, so I killed him. Anyway, Caesar was a Popular, and the rule of the majority means the death of personal liberty. I saw that long ago. Though Pompeius had-killed my father I fought for him against Caesar, who menaced the freedom of every noble Roman. Caesar thought he could do everything better than anyone else, from augury to ship-building; and he would never leave anyone alone. The mob adored him, because he was brave and a rake. Now perhaps they will recognize the merits of those who are both brave and virtuous.’
‘I grant that what you did you did for liberty. Some of your associates had less elevated motives, but we need not go into that. But you should remember that the greatest foe of liberty is war, no matter which side wins. If you wish to keep the peace, I shall help you. But do not perpetually recall your great achievement. Though the voice of Rome, speaking through the Senate, has proclaimed that the killing of Caesar was no murder, let it be forgotten as soon as possible.’
‘On the contrary, I shall speak of it continually. The common people must be reminded that they were very nearly enslaved, and that a few brave noblemen preserved their liberty.’
‘On that point we disagree. Let us not discuss it further. Soon I shall leave Rome for my province. You I suppose will remain in the City to serve your term as praetor. It is unfortunate that you are bound to exhibit Games; the Caesarian mob will make trouble in the circus.’
‘Caesar is dead; soon there will be no more Caesarians. The Populars may continue under the leadership of Antonius; but there is room in the City for differences of political opinion.’
The conversation ceased, and when Lepidus spoke again it was to discuss the finances of the state. He was wasting his time trying to persuade this conceited fool that Caesar had left devoted followers. His tactlessness might well stir up the civil war which could otherwise be averted. There was one consolation; an army led by Marcus Junius Brutus was sure to be beaten.
Presently Brutus went off in his curtained litter, to get back without incident to his refuge on the Capitol. In the morning the hostages were returned, and Antonius rewarded young Marcus Lepidus by betrothing him to his daughter. Such an honour could not be refused with safety, though Lepidus did not relish the prospect that one day the wild blood of the Antonians would be mingled with his own.
Yet Rome did not settle down to peace, though every politician of weight did his best to calm the passions of the mob. Caesar’s funeral passed off without the expected riot, save for a few casual lynchings. But the publication of his will made a sensation.
Caesar’s chief heir was not Marcus Antonius after all, but the unknown and youthful great-nephew, further, this boy was to be adopted as Caesar’s son, and would carry on his name. Some said this must make him leader of the Caesarians, but Lepidus pointed out that a boy who had never held curule office could not lead a party. In this, if in nothing else, Marcus Antonius agreed with him.
During that uneasy summer no one was happy. Antonius was the most important man in Rome, but he was not a Dictator. As Consul, he should have taken the advice of the Senate, and cooperated with his equal colleague, the other Consul.
Unfortunately the other Consul, appointed to fill the vacancy caused by Caesar’s murder, was Dolabella; and it was less than two years since his gang had fought the Antonians all over the Forum. The two Consuls were soon at loggerheads, with Antonius encouraging the religious cult of the dead Caesar and Dolabella determined to put it down.
Antonius rarely attended the Senate. He lived splendidly, spending Caesar’s treasure as though it had in truth been bequeathed to him; and whenever he or one of his parasites ran short of money some new project found among Caesar’s papers justified another source of revenue. Meanwhile a civil war still rumbled in the provinces. It was the old war, between Caesarians and Pompeians, which should have ended after Pharsalus; but it might merge into a new war, between Antonians and Optimates, unless it were settled quickly.
The ending of this Spanish war was so important that the second man in the republic was commissioned to negotiate peace. Hither Spain was added to Narbonese Gaul as the province of the proconsul Lepidus, and both the Optimates and Antonius begged him to see Sextus Pompeius and bring him to terms. He was instructed in two separate interviews, and it amused him to note how different leaders of the state went about the same business.
Cicero called at the mansion of the Pontifex-elect, as was proper between Consulars. He addressed his host by his correct titles of Imperator and Triumphator, and dwelt chiefly on the need for universal concord. If Lepidus would explain to young Sextus that in Rome Pompeians and Optimates and Caesarians were working together without friction the young leader, who could not be bad at heart, would recognize his duty. Nothing was demanded from him but a respectful letter to the Senate; once he had agreed to take orders from the lawful authorities some dignified post would be found for him. Cicero thought that the task would be easy; he took it for granted that Romans of noble birth would follow the path of duty as soon as it had been pointed out to them.
Marcus Antonius sent a message asking the Consular to call, though he was ten years his junior and Lepidus had been Consul when he was no more than quaestor. Lepidus was carried in his litter to the greatest private mansion in Rome, the sumptuous building decorated with the keels of pirate ships which had been built for Pompeius Maximus. Though it was late in the morning, he found the house only half-awake. The Consul received him wearing a tunic but no toga, and obviously suffering from a sick headache. The office was untidy, and not really private; painted boys and young women kept on putting their heads in and backing out with apologies.
But Marcus Antonius was no fool, even when half-drunk. His exposition of the Spanish situation was clearer than Cicero’s, and he had a sensible plan to induce Sextus Pompeius to make peace.
‘He’s a queer youth, by all accounts,’ he said easily. ‘He got nothing from his famous father except a famous name. He was still a schoolboy when Pharsalus was lost and won; he can’t be much more than twenty now. Why the Spaniards follow him I don’t know. But they do. Pollio can’t suppress him, so we must buy him instead. Luckily I have plenty of money, and the Senate will give him some grand title. He would like a curule magistracy, I’m told; but we can’t have him visiting Rome to stand for election. There is enough trouble between Caesarians and Optimates without rallying the Pompeians as well. Another thing he wants very much, and can’t have: this house. Of course it was his father’s, and in normal times I would hand it back to him. With things as they are I won’t. It would look like yielding to pressure, and just now my prestige is important. So there it is.’ He paused to drink from a goblet of unmixed wine. ‘Sextus Pompeius wants to be praetor; he also wants “The Keels”. On both counts you must disappoint him. But you can offer him unlimited money, and any appointment – not an elective office – that it is in the power of the Senate to grant. You should be able to bring him to terms. Oh, and one other thing. Take a look at his soldiers, and try to find out why they follow him. There are some Spaniards who will follow any enemy of Rome, but there can’t still be all that Pompeian feeling in the province. Why Sextus Pompeius in particular? I should like to know.’
It was galling to sit there taking instructions from Marcus Antonius, ten years his junior and a notorious libertine. Lepidus reminded himself that the man was Consul of the year, entitled to obedience from all Romans. When the year was out they would both be Consulars, equal in precedence; that would be the time to make clear their relative standing. He agreed to do all he was told.
He was not sorry to leave Rome, on an official mission which gave him a watertight excuse to drop out of City politics. The leaders of both factions might have buried their differences, but their followers refused to drop the age-old feud. Caesar ‘s murderers were never safe from Popular avengers of blood. The instigators of the plot, Cassius, Decimus Brutus, Marcus Brutus, fled from the City in fear of their lives. Decimus Brutus went to govern his province of Cisalpine Gaul; but Marcus Brutus, a praetor, should have remained to preside in his lawcourt. To save his face the Senate invented a post for him in the provinces, something to do with the corn-supply; and a job on the same lines was found to give Cassius an excuse to travel. That was very disgraceful, as showing that the government lacked power to maintain order, but it was better than provoking a civil war by allowing Optimate leaders to be murdered in the Forum.
Young Caesar Octavianus had arrived in Rome, seeking the estate of his great-uncle. Antonius made things as awkward for him as he knew how. He obstructed the passage of the law needed to formalize the posthumous adoption, so that the youth remained in law Caius Octavius Thuricus (though to every good Popular he was Caesar). The boy had a devoted following, especially among Caesar’s veterans, cand the Consul’s spiteful treatment of him threatened to split the Caesarian party. Lepidus was glad to get away without having to take sides against either the heir or the lieutenant of his old leader.
The lady Clodia looked out on the hot June night. ‘It’s odd to think that it’s only three months to the day since Caesar was murdered. I was terribly afraid then, until I saw a legionary on guard outside my door. Aemilius Lepidus sent him specially, and you should have seen how the lady Junia looked me up and down when I called to thank him. She thinks I’m not respectable, and of course she’s right. It’s odd about Lepidus. On the Ides of March he might have made himself King of Rome; but he was too conventional to try it on. Now he’s gone off on some boring mission to the barbarous west, and I don’t suppose we shall ever hear of him again.… But we waste time. Come closer, my darling.’
6. The Ranks Form
44–43 BC
Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, Imperator, Triumphator, Pro-consul, looked with satisfaction at the smart legionary on guard outside the filthy little Spanish inn. Yesterday there had been sentries outside his lodging; but they had been Spanish rebels, the most terrifying cut-throats he had ever set eyes on. He was grateful, and a little surprised, to be safely back in the loyal portion of his province.
He was so relieved at his escape that he had to talk to someone; even to Eunomus, his only companion. Junia had warned him against making an intimate of the slippery Greek freedman, and usually he followed her advice. But he had left his wife and children in Rome, as did every official posted to a barbarous province; and he was accustomed to discussing the affairs of the day before he went to bed.
‘It’s all fixed up,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Young Sextus has agreed to leave Spain. The Senate will appoint him inspector-general of the navy in the west, with the rank of praefect. He can lodge wherever he chooses, except in Rome; and he gets all his father’s property except the town-house, which Antonius won’t hand over. He would be a fool to refuse these terms, and he’s no fool. But I wonder whether he sees that when he is parted from his Spanish brigands he won’t matter any more? In Italy he can’t gather a band of armed Pompeians. Italians have short memories. To them Pompeius Maximus is a figure in ancient history.’
‘Are his followers Pompeians, my lord?’ asked Eunomus. ‘Some Spanish tribes obey him from loyalty to his father, who showed them mercy when they first submitted to Rome. But that kind of sentimental loyalty will not gather an army, especially an army at war with the rest of the civilized world. There is more behind this rebellion than a young man carrying on the blood-feud to avenge his father.’
‘Now then, Eunomus, don’t be too clever. You always see something deeper than the obvious, though very often the obvious is all there is to see. These Spanish hillmen would rather plunder than plough; Sextus is a brave, uncouth ruffian who seems fitted by nature to be a leader of brigands. He has been lucky, and I suppose Pollio is not really such a good soldier as Caesar thought. When the boy is back in a law-abiding country he will find that his skill in laying ambuscades has no value. Since for lack of education he can’t make a convincing speech to the assembly, he will dwindle into nothing.’
‘My lord, did you notice that most of his officers were not Spaniards at all? They were not Roman either. Perhaps all provincials seem the same to you. Those men were Greeks, as I spotted when I heard them trying to talk Latin. I spoke to one of them in Greek. He seemed to know Miletus, and I gathered from the way he listened to my story that he also had been enslaved, for a short time. Born free, enslaved by some catastro
phe, then quickly freed. In addition he was devoted to Pompeius. What kind of man satisfies all those conditions?’
‘I can’t think about men I have never met at dinner, as you know very well. Don’t speak in riddles, especially when I am tired. You have had one of your bright ideas again, and you are bursting to impart it. Out with it.’
‘Well, my lord, from his age this man’s benefactor must have been Pompeius Maximus. Pompeius helped some Spaniards, certainly, but these men are Greek. Now on the whole the great Pompeius was not a friend to Hellas. But once he was remarkably merciful to a fleet manned by Greek sailors, a fleet which he had defeated in battle. When I was a child we all knew the story of how Pompeius solved the pirate problem. He gave land and plough-oxen to the captured pirates, until they were better off than their neighbours who had always lived honestly. The farmers round Miletus were very bitter about it. Don’t you see how this fits in? Some pirate captains became the slaves of Pompeius Maximus; and since they were competent leaders, who had come to the top in a competitive calling, probably they quickly earned their freedom. I believe the man I spoke with, Menas his name was, is a pardoned pirate. His seafaring ended more than twenty years ago; but soon he will be on the staff of the inspector-general of the western fleet. Within a few years, unless you watch him closely, young Sextus Pompeius will be King of the Pirates.’
‘As usual, Eunomus, you are too subtle,’ Lepidus said angrily. ‘The young man may have inherited a few superannuated pirates from his father’s household. But he is not the man to be a leader, even of pirates. I talked with him, and I can judge. In the first place, he is utterly uneducated; he can’t even speak Latin correctly. In the second place, his only asset is his name. If he does anything unworthy of a Pompeius he will lose the little importance he now enjoys. Can you see disgruntled Optimates enlisting under a pirate chief? At a time when the Senate is curbing Marcus Antonius, and discouraging young Caesar Octavianus, is it likely that they will allow this Sextus to steal the Roman navy?’
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