by Allan Massie
Antony had not yet arrived – 'such a surprise' sighed Maecenas – but Lepidus was already waiting in the tent that would serve as reception centre and ante-chamber to the smaller one where we three principals would bargain. I had never met Lepidus before, as it happens, but I recognized him easily. He was quite remarkably handsome, with smooth utterly regular features and dark hair hardly touched with grey, that curled on his temples as if arranged for a sculptor to copy. He greeted us with ceremonious affability.
'So this,' he said to Marcellus whom he knew well, 'is the wondrous boy who has surprised us all.'
His voice was light, trilling and ingratiating; I disliked it intensely, and not merely for its note of patronage. I recalled that Cicero had described him to me as the most sordid and base of fellows: 'He takes hold of your elbow and mutters dishonourable filth in your ear.' I could well believe it and was glad to observe that the blandness he strove to display incompletely marked a lack of true ease. He couldn't stop talking and his hands fluttered from man to man, a press here, a squeeze there, a light deprecating touch on the next shoulder.
'We can't expect our great Antony on time, that's for sure,' he said. 'I wonder whom he tumbled last night… not Fulvia, that's for sure… though he's scared stiff of her, I have that on the very best authority… and how did you leave Rome, my dear Caesar… do you know it's over two years since I saw the city… I pine for it, that's for sure… but I'll tell you something, old boy,' he leaned over me, disgorging an unattractive scent of musk, 'not half as much as Markie Brutus must. You see, old boy, I know I'll feast on the Palatine again. He must be beginning to fear he never will, and serve him right, the poor sod.'
Yes, you see, my sons, he was a horrible man, and I am ashamed to have been associated with him for so many years.
I was on edge myself, wondering, as I had during the night, how Antony would greet me. Would he be embarrassed (as I was) by certain memories of Spain and by the insults we had traded for the last year? He had of course shown no sign of embarrassment in Rome? still it was different now. Would he resume the elder-brother tone he had first adopted when I joined Caesar's staff? Would he aim at being cold and statesmanlike?
He arrived in a swirl of purple and no apologies for his lateness. He embraced Lepidus and turned to me: 'You look ill,' he said, 'and not the pretty boy I knew in Spain. Well, we've put the last year's nonsense behind us and we'll soon put the roses back in your cheeks. You've done remarkably… I hadn't thought you had it in you.' He was intending to throw me off balance. I smiled and acceded to his proposal that we should cut the preliminaries short and get down to business. There was, as I said, a small tent set aside for the three of us. We would converse first in private and then summon slaves to whom we would dictate a statement. Though an agenda had been prepared by our aides, both Antony and I had been firm that the negotiations should be restricted to the three principals, and be kept as informal as possible. My ready agreement to this had surprised him.
So many versions of our island discussions have been given that the whole negotiation has been enveloped in a cloud of exaggeration, misrepresentation, party animus, private revenge and the sheer human tendency to prefer the more lurid of any two stories offered. I have never till now put on record what was said, and I never discussed the course of the conference with anyone but Livia, years later. Of course my friends and I analysed the decisions, particularly after the first day's talk, lest I should be committing myself to anything which might turn to my disadvantage. But that is all. Lepidus of course chattered. Antony later gave his version, or rather (for I wish to be fair) the intolerable Fulvia published an account which she claimed to be Antony's. In these versions I stand out as the one who was coldest and most implacable, most bent on revenge. This is patently absurd. I had no private revenge to seek. The law which I had had passed in Rome satisfied my legitimate desire that my father's murderers be punished. Otherwise no private impetus drove me. My political career had been too short to let me accumulate a host of scores to settle. Let me make that quite clear. In our decisions on that river island I was impersonal, driven only by that pure motive which I have called 'reason of state'.
By common consent Antony acted as chairman. (I am not afraid to confess that; it would have been presumptuous in me to have assumed the role.) He had a natural authority; for all his many faults of character I can no more deny that, than I can remember him without affection, despite his treachery, selfishness and untrustworthiness. And, when he bent his mind to business, he revealed a brilliant lucidity and mastery of the structure of politics and strategy of war. I would never wish to take that away from his memory.
He began by summing up the situation – a sparkling tour d'horizon. He showed a generous appreciation of my own achievements. 'You made things tough for me, kid,' he said, 'and there were several moments when I thought your own rope-dance would end in disaster for you. But you brought it off – there's nothing after all that succeeds like success. So here you is – no longer Kid but Caesar, even if to me' – he got up and walked round the table and squeezed my shoulder – 'you'll always be, in some part, just Kid. Still, it's quite something -no longer Kid but Caesar. Do you remember when they called out to Him, that he was planning to make himself King, and he snapped back, "My name ain't King, it's Caesar"?'
I thought to myself: before I have finished Caesar will be more than a name. An odd discordant thought: perhaps it will be more than King?
'Anyway,' he said, 'to sum up: the West is ours. I don't say there's no disaffection left, especially in Italy, but it's at a level that we can control. The high-minded skunks are on the run. They're our next problem…' 'Pompey?' I suggested.
'Pompey can wait. It's what Pompeys are good at doing, the indecisive so-and-sos. Our job is to clean up Marcus Brutus.'
'My information is,' Lepidus stuck in, 'that Brutus and Cassius have raised more than forty legions and plan to land at Brindisi in the spring.' 'They won't,' Antony said. 'If they ally themselves to Pompey, they would have a fleet.' 'They won't move that fast. They're a committee.' 'They moved quite quickly on the Ides of March,' I said.
'Murder's a short sprint,' Antony said. 'You need staying power for war.'
He leaned back; his face had become deeply lined in the last year, and that made it look stronger. He had lost the playboy look. The big mouth turned down at the corners now, and his eyes were a little bloodshot. He had been through it; I felt a shaft of affection. His deep voice warmed the room.
'You've just come from the city, kid,' he said, giving a mighty and possibly calculated stretch and yawn. 'What's the state of the Treasury?'
'I paid my troops out of it,' I said, and looked him in the eye. 'As consul,' I said; his eye did not drop, but wavered towards Lepidus.
'Perfectly correct,' that worthy yelped. He had been left out and was fidgeting to intervene. 'Perfectly correct… I wonder if you would sanction a payment to…'
Antony interrupted: 'Nobody, kid, questions your correctness. I wasn't either trying to needle you. Look, by my calculations – supplied in part, I don't mind telling you, by my agents in your camps – don't look like a grey gander, Lepidus, if you don't have any agents in my camp, you bloody well should have – Caesar here has squads of 'em, don't you, kid? – so, as I was saying before being interrupted by our chum here having the dry heaves – talking of which, it's a hell of a long time between drinks, as one proconsul said to the other – Lepidus, before I resume, would you mind tinkling that dong so that we can get ourselves a snifter? Ah boy, a flask of white for the generals.'
He paused. Lepidus puffed and blew and wheezed and drummed his fingers, till the boy returned with the wine.
'Just pour it out, will you, and then be off with you, and don't try listening. It's deep politics we're talking, way beyond you, child. Right, where was we? Yup. I reckon we have forty-three legions between us. I suppose yours like mine are a bit under-strength, so let's say a total force of about 200,000 men. Well, thos
e boys may love us, but they'll want pay too. So again I ask, how's the Treasury, kid?'
'It won't support that force for more than a few months. What's more,' I said, 'we'll get no tax revenues from Asia while our enemies hold Greece and the seas…'
'That Egyptian bint of Himself s ain't going to disgorge either. I'd a note from her the other day, saying, much as she would like to fulfil her obligations, blah-bloody-blah, she couldn't entrust tax money to the sea while Pompey held it. A bloody good excuse of course. Did you ever meet her, kid?' 'Only just'
'Himself was crazy about her. Usually it was the other way round, but he was silly on her. The boys thought she'd bewitched him. Maybe she had. I wouldn't say it was beyond the bint. He nearly got our throats cut in Alexandria while she teased his cock.'
These were precisely Antony's words the first time I heard him speak of Cleopatra. Like all my father's friends he had deplored and feared the influence she might exercise over him.
'So,' he said, 'money's going to be a bit of a problem. Like I say, my boys dote on me, but they won't fight for love.'
He was fishing for an answer I was loth to provide. Let him supply it himself, I thought, and then felt ashamed. I had after all to be ready to take responsibility for the actions that were going to be forced on us. 'Others have been in the same case,' I said. 'Such as who?' 'Sulla for instance.'
The name fell into the conversation like a stone thrown into a pool. I knew it would have that effect. Since I have hitherto advised your tutors that your historical studies should be confined principally to the heroic age of Republican virtue, you may not know why Sulla was so disturbing a name.
L. Cornelius Sulla, a man of most respectable family, was yet the first Roman to seize the city by force of arms. He did so, I hasten to add, with the laudable intention of freeing it from the tyrannical chaos that had been imposed on it by Cinna and the Popular Party. Having occupied Rome, he had the Senate name him dictator. Though not short of money, for he had just returned from an Asiatic war, he proceeded to confiscate the property of his opponents, some of whom were put to death. He did this partly to discourage the others from holding on to what they had imagined to be their rightful possessions. Sulla even went to the length of having lists of those whom he had decided to proscribe posted in the Forum. This made it easier for men to acquire merit by aiding the dictator. Not surprisingly many families hold the name of Sulla in especial horror. As a matter of fact my own family was among such. Indeed Julius himself found his name on the death list. The dictator was only persuaded, very reluctantly, to remove the name and spare the boy, by the intercession of one of our aunts. It is rum to think that had she failed I should probably have passed my life as a small-town banker.
Nevertheless I am not ashamed to admit that I introduced Sulla's name to our conference. It had to be done.
Antony's smile rewarded me. Lepidus of course twittered. True, his father, also M. Aemilius Lepidus, had opposed Sulla; he should however have been man enough to know that there is no point in maintaining feuds beyond the grave. Sulla's memory was a thing of value.
Antony said, 'Julius always swore he would never imitate Sulla, that Sulla's conduct had been hated and deplored by everybody, and that in a civil war clemency to the defeated was essential.'
'And the words do him credit,' Lepidus chirped – really, the discrepancy between appearance and voice was remarkable and disturbing – 'I remember him saying that often. We shouldn't forget, now, should we?' Antony looked at me: 'Well, kid?'
I said: 'Sulla died in his bed. You yourself picked up Caesar's bloody toga.' Antony shouted for a member of his staff.
'I've got a list,' he said, 'a list of the thirty richest senators and the hundred and fifty wealthiest equestrians who have declared friendship for Brutus. Fetch that list.'
'We do not wish to campaign in Italy,' I said. 'We cannot risk leaving disaffection behind.' 'We understand each other, kid,' Antony said.
I hope this makes it clear that I accept my full responsibility for the proscriptions; reason of state made them imperative. Duty can be a harsh task-mistress.
***
The second day we started naming names.
***
We were delayed first by a procedural point raised by Lepidus. I don't know which of his advisers had put him up to it. Some of them were quite clever.
'One thing worries me,' he said. 'It is unclear in what capacity we are proposing to act. Of course our dear Octavian is consul, but only till the end of the year – another couple of months. We both have proconsular commands, but they give us no imperium outside our provinces. And that is all. Is it enough to let us act with authority?'
'We have more than forty legions,' Antony said. 'Only an old woman would seek further authority.'
I could not agree. The legions gave power, not authority. There was meat in Lepidus' argument. It is frequently necessary in politics to depart from the book, but it is rash to seem contemptuous of formalities, precedent and legality.
'Unfortunately,' I said, 'Antony has abolished the office of dictator. Otherwise I would suggest he took that title, like my father and Sulla.'
'You would?' Antony said. 'I believe you, sure. Thousands wouldn't.' A smile broke through his mask of settled scepticism such as I have seen slide over the faces of practical men as they listened to philosophers debate. 'But of course,' I said.
'Formalities!' Antony said. 'I'm old enough to remember how Himself and Pompey and that great eunuch Marcus Crassus carved up the State at Lucca. Is that not precedent enough?' 'But that was condemned by all good men as sheer gangsterism.' 'Sure it was! So what?'
'A moment,' I said. 'I think it provides us with a model but one that we should refine further. Let us indeed institute a triumvirate, a Second Triumvirate, but let us do so by legal process. Let us get a tribune to introduce a law in the Assembly empowering the three of us, for a period of, say, five years, to order the Republic. He can spout a lot of high-minded stuff to let people vote with a good conscience for what they may not like but yet see is necessary. Such a law would grant us full imperium; it would mean that the legality of our measures could not be subsequently questioned, and it would let us control all elections; we could simply nominate sole candidates, for years in advance. Wouldn't some such scheme serve?'
(I knew it would. Marcellus, Maecenas and myself had hammered it out over beer and sandwiches the night before. Maecenas had then had himself ferried across to Antony's camp to discuss it with Antony's chief of staff Asinius Pollio. I was therefore hardly risking much in making this proposal, even though it seemed that Polio had had no time to brief his general, or perhaps had not found him in briefable condition.)
Before Antony could reply, I added, 'Though it may prove at some time expedient for one of us to hold a consulship during the period of our… rule, I don't think it's a good idea that one of us should do so at the start. I therefore propose to resign my consulship as soon as we have ratified our agreement.'
It was later put about that Antony had compelled me to give up my office; I am happy to take this opportunity of denying that and giving the true account.
My proposal lightened the atmosphere. We all now felt comfortably ensconced in legality, for we had of course no doubt that such a measure would be put through the Assembly. So we were able to turn our attention to those whom we were about to proscribe.
At first it was easy. Our several staffs had provided us with lists of those senators known to be inclined towards the 'liberators' and of similarly disaffected (and rich) equestrians. Many names were to be found on all three lists. We pricked them with equanimity. These were men who had chosen their side and knew what they risked losing. Our humanity was not affected, for most of them had already fled Italy, many more would do so on learning of their inclusion in our list. We were after their property; few had such personal significance as to make their deaths desirable.
Yet, as the listing continued, distrust and rivalry entered our heart
s. We were each putting ourselves in a position in which we would appear to ill advantage; our proscriptions would arouse hatred as well as fear. Each death would breed vendetta. It was expedient therefore that all should be seen to be equally involved.
Antony drank more and more wine as the debate continued. I despised him for that. It was my first reminder of that weakness of character which would in time destroy him; he shrank from the reality of his actions, and grew boisterous and over-stretched. 'Lepidus,' he cried, 'your brother Paullus must go.' 'Paullus! My brother?'
'Look at his wealth, look at his record! Himself spared him. Himself bought him, didn't he? Did he get the support he paid for? Prick him down, kid.' 'You consent, Lepidus?'
He shrugged his shoulders, 'I have done what I can. Very well. On condition Antony sacrifices his mother's brother, L. Julius Caesar. He's a connection of both of you, and a Pompeian. You must be joined equally in blood guilt with me.'
Antony hid his mouth in his wine-glass. The man was old, blameless (I believed); he had opposed Cicero's demand that the Senate name Antony a public enemy. The glass was lowered.
'Very well. He has not long to live in any case. And he has, as you say, a history as an undeviating Republican. Prick him down… to sacrifice a Julian and a Caesar…'he broke off and took a swig from his wine.
'Will convince any doubters,' I said, 'that we have bound ourselves to the wheel. From proscriptions there can be no retreat.'
'Atticus,' Lepidus said, with a snake-flick of his tongue. 'No one will spill more gold than that fat banker.'
