by Pat Brown
Octavian was only four years old when his father died. He was raised by his rather overbearing mother, his grandmother, and a man-slave. He received an excellent and stern education, albeit one devoid of physical training or sports. He excelled early in public speaking. When he was fifteen, Octavian was small for his age and sickly, but a very pretty boy. He finally met his uncle, Julius Caesar. Obedient, smart, and already quite politically motivated, Octavian was very appealing to Caesar and eventually was taken under his uncle’s wing. He would become Caesar’s adopted son and inherit enough money upon Caesar’s death to enter into politics and begin to make his mark in the governing of Rome.
Clearly, Octavian was a great politician and, in the end, the ruler of the Roman Empire. But, when Cleopatra came into conflict with him, just who was Octavian? What kind of man did she encounter, and what was it about Octavian that was to be such a problem for her?
The ancient historian Suetonius describes Octavian’s interesting characteristics in his book Lives of the Caesars, traits which should be interpreted neither in positive light nor in a negative one but with an eye to how these characteristics contributed to Octavian’s view of the world he wanted to rule, how he might view others, and how he might use his traits to control and manipulate people and events to his advantage.
For example, Suetonius observes that Octavian personally lived a very controlled life, avoiding excess in his surroundings and preferring a simple and nonflamboyant lifestyle. As Octavian was a very shrewd and calculating man, I view his pious and rather fastidious manner as a combination of motives: (1) to not be distracted from his one desire—to win and rule; (2) to present himself to others as a serious man, one to be respected; and (3) to suggest that he was a man who could be trusted by the people, as one who is not after riches, but rather an opportunity to serve the citizens. I also believe Octavian’s spare lifestyle gave him a feeling of superiority over those who had less controlled lives—Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, and, certainly, Cleopatra.
In other aspects of life, it is well known that he valued moderation and was without suspicion of any vice. At first, he lived next to the Roman Forum just above the Ringmakers’ Stairs in a house formerly owned by the orator Calvus. Later he lived on the Palatine but in a modest dwelling that had been Hortensius’s and that stood out neither for its spaciousness nor for its refinement: the porticoes had squat columns of Alban stone and the rooms had no marble or mosaic flooring. For more than forty years, he slept in the same bedroom, winter or summer, even though he did not find the city conducive to good health in the winter and he always wintered in the city. If he ever needed to do anything in private or without interruption he had a secluded place on the top floor, which he called “Syracuse” or “little studio”: he would retreat to this place or to the suburban estate of one of his freedmen.
Roomy and elaborate country houses annoyed him. He even razed to the ground a house his granddaughter Julia had lavishly built. His own estates were modest.
The economy of his décor and furnishings is evident from the couches and tables still in existence, of which most are scarcely of a quality suitable for a private citizen. They say he would only sleep on a bed if it were low and modestly made up. He scarcely ever wore clothing that was not homemade by his sister and wife and daughter and granddaughters; his toga was neither fitted or loose, the stripe neither wide nor narrow, his shoes were somewhat high-soled, so that he would appear taller than he was. He always kept in his room a set of business clothes and shoes in case of sudden and unexpected occasions.1
Octavian was moderate to severe with regard to life pleasures, but he was a pretty good host at dinners and celebrations. Although he himself ate sparingly, he provided elegant food for his guests, good entertainment, and, on those special occasions and holidays, he put on spectacular and fun events and gave excellent presents. He had the gift of making his guests feel welcome and excelled at stimulating conversation and encouraging others, especially those who were uncomfortable in expressing themselves, to speak up and enjoy a pleasant interaction. One might believe that Octavian was, therefore, a very warm individual with much empathy for his guests. However, as Octavian’s actions throughout his entire life indicate he was always intently focused on being the leader of Rome, I would believe any entertaining he did would have been motivated by political goals, not emotional or physical needs or desires. For example, Octavian spent a great deal of time preparing and practicing speeches and preferred to read them aloud to his audience so as not to make errors. His voice was pleasing, and the calculated discourse he offered usually achieved its objective; his motive was not to bond with others but to convince them of whatever it was he wanted them to do or to believe in order to serve his political goals.
From his earliest youth, he studied rhetoric and the liberal arts with great enthusiasm and diligence. It is said that, even in the hectic conditions of the Battle of Mutina, he read, wrote, and declaimed daily. From then on, he never spoke before the Senate, the people, or the soldiers without a planned and prepared address, even though he was not without talent in speaking extemporaneously. He adopted the practice of reading from a prepared text so as not to be betrayed by his memory or waste time in memorization. He did not even make statements to individuals, or even to his wife Livia except by writing them down and reading them aloud, lest he say too much or too little by speaking causally.2
We see a man who does not allow emotions or the moment to dictate his speech or actions but rather speaks exactly to ensure a specific outcome to be reached successfully and not left to chance or accident. Octavian’s very regimented and controlled behavior indicate that he is a man who does not allow uncontrolled desires to get the better of him, whose ego cannot allow itself to be bruised; he can allow no man, and certainly no woman, to get the better of him. Octavian was a calculating, purposeful man who knew exactly what direction he wanted Rome to move in and who the person was to make sure it happened. The fatherless boy controlled by women, delicate, and prone to illness would prove to all that he was not the weakling they once thought he was. He strove to outlast and outmaneuver them all. And he did.
However, when he came onto the political playing field, he was not a very great general and certainly not a man’s man, not the kind of fellow whom either Caesar or Antony would find ideal as a potential leader. Antony probably couldn’t stand him, and Caesar no doubt found him quite acceptable as an intelligent underling and subservient enough in the presence of his mighty uncle to be tolerated, even as amusing company, but not a tough guy to worry about or one you could count on to have your back in a major conflict. In the later propaganda wars between Antony and Octavian (when they were vying for Roman support in the civil war against each other), Antony spread rumors that Caesar didn’t mind having the young man around for other reasons. Suetonius said of Octavian:
For relaxation he would sometimes go fishing with a rod, and sometimes play at dice, or marbles or nuts with little boys. Boys whose looks and manners were endearing he would seek out from all over the place, but particularly Moors and Syrians.3
In his early youth he was accused of many kinds of vice. Sextus Pompeius attacked him for being effeminate. Mark Antony alleged he had brought his adoption by his uncle with sexual favors.4
In other words, Mark Antony was claiming that Octavian was gay, something he himself was not, and that Octavian should be looked down upon. As for Caesar—we must remember the taunts that he was “every woman’s man and every man’s woman”5—it is possible that Julius Caesar did enjoy the company of his nephew and adopted son in more than a paternal way. Although homosexual activity was certainly not unknown at the time, Antony’s comments clearly show that homosexuality was still something one could use as a slur against another man. What is most important about this issue is how Caesar might have viewed Octavian, why Octavian might have gotten extra attention from his uncle and may have used this to his own benefit. There is no question that Octavian had a slight and f
eminine body, and he did not seem to display overtly masculine traits in his mannerisms or his lifestyle. He did marry, but there were political reasons to do this, and it was claimed that he slept with important men’s wives; but Suetonius explained his dalliances in this way:
Even his friends do not deny that he was guilty of adultery, but they justify it by claiming that he acted not out of lust but rather as a calculated strategy: he could more easily learn the strategies of his enemies through their wives.6
I would have to side with Antony and those friends in their assessment of Octavian’s sexual preferences that he likely preferred men to women in the bedroom. I find the likelihood of Caesar being bisexual in behavior not too unbelievable, either (fun is fun, especially when one has no females about to make use of). Antony, however, appeared to be heterosexual to the core and saw himself as the height of masculinity in battle, with his comrades, and with his women.
Now, some might object to this discussion of the sexual appetites of these Romans; after all, this is a private affair, so what is the point of discussing it here? Actually, in profiling personalities and behaviors, all the interests and proclivities of those being analyzed are important to the whole makeup of the person. For Cleopatra, this issue was of extreme importance. Her liaison with Julius Caesar fed his ego; she had his “son” and heir to the Egyptian throne, and she served as an attractive partner in handling his interests in Egypt. Later, after Caesar’s death, she hooked up with Antony to conquer Octavian and rule an empire, to be a royal couple, produce a couple of children, and live the good life. As for Octavian, there was no chance to liaise with him in any way, and Cleopatra knew it.
What could she offer him? Clearly not sex, since Octavian was not much of a womanizer (at least not in the long-term sense of a relationship), and not even a tryst would lead him to gaining information from her husband, as she might have heard was his reason for bedding connected women on rare occasion … the buck stopped with her. Octavian had no interest in attaining the grand and lavish lifestyle of Alexandria; he did not appreciate her cleverness and cunning; and given his temperament it is likely he wouldn’t trust her. When it came down to choosing between partnering with a Roman after Caesar’s death, Antony was simply the only choice Cleopatra had. Thankfully, he would end up needing her support to continue his fight against Octavian, and he enjoyed the other amenities of Alexandria and the royal lady. So Antony and Cleopatra it would be, but, right now, let’s backtrack to what happened after the Ides of March.
Julius Caesar is dead; Brutus and Cassius are banished, leaving Mark Antony temporarily the only man of the hour in Rome. I am sure he was feeling pretty good about how the assassination turned out, until that blasted will of Julius Caesar was made public. It seems Caesar wrote a new will during 45 BCE, and when his father-in-law read the contents of the will to Antony, he was not pleased. It stated that his nephew, Octavian, would be one of his heirs (the others were his grandchildren, whose inheritance would be relatively insignificant). Caesar gave Octavian three-quarters of his estate, which made him an extremely rich man.
That, Antony could have dealt with. It was the provision making Octavian his son, which was rather unusual but legally allowable, that was the insult. What came along with that adoption was Caesar’s name, his soldiers, and the citizens who loved him. Octavian was now set up to enter politics at the top, which was something he would want to do in the shortest amount of time possible.
The will was a major blow to Antony and a very great and unexpected gift for Octavian. It wasn’t, however, smooth sailing for Octavian to work his way into the triumvirate. He had many political hurdles to clear, and he and Antony would clash numerous times. Octavian had to command his new troops and massage the distraught Caesarians who were struggling to maintain control of Rome. He inherited a lot of money to work with, which he put to good use. Finally, as Caesar’s son got the chance to rule Rome, and with this unexpected and very powerful newcomer into politics, Antony realized he had a major adversary to contend with—one who would do everything he could to be the person to gain Caesar’s throne, including annihilating his political adversaries. Octavian may not have been much to look at, and Antony may have mistakenly presumed that being a weak man physically meant being a weak man mentally. There he would have erred in his judgment. Octavian was to prove himself to be the brightest of any man to rule Rome.
For Cleopatra, Octavian was her worst nightmare. He was a man she couldn’t partner with due to his physical issues and personality, but he was also a man whose intellect meant he would meet her head-on when it came to playing for the ultimate prize. I believe Cleopatra was fully aware of what she was dealing with; the only snake that would do her in would be one with the head of a Roman.
So much is made of Cleopatra’s love affairs with Julius Caesar and Mark Antony, her passionate love and lust for them and their lust and love for her. In reality, it is likely that neither love nor lust were motivators in the hearts of these three great leaders of history. Instead, another dyad of needs, namely, intense desire for power and control, would be the major factors. The desire for power and control is the major trait of narcissists and psychopaths, along with being extremely self-centered, ruthless, grandiose, coldblooded, manipulative, and not a bit remorseful when it comes to the woes they heap on others in their quest for glory. Narcissism and psychopathy are very closely related; assigning one label or the other to certain individuals is difficult when all we can do is read about them from ancient historians. It is also only a matter of degree when we are not dealing with two completely different sets of personality disorders but when the two are intertwined. I believe psychopaths are simply farther down the narcissism scale to the degree that they do not even recognize the need to have anyone else’s approval or admiration; others become the psychopath’s pawns, nothing but total objects to be used, abused, or removed. Some psychologists prefer to differentiate between a psychopath and a sociopath, claiming that the former is somehow biologically determined while the latter is created by the society he lives in. These professionals assign lower-functioning individuals the term of psychopath and higher-functioning ones the label sociopath. In reality, there is no scientific difference between the two; in my opinion, there are simply less-educated and socialized psychopaths and more highly educated and socialized psychopaths. The lower strata of psychopaths fill a large number of prison cells; the higher strata may find spots open for them on Wall Street and high political offices. Oftentimes, many of us don’t even realize that those we work with, hang with, are married to, or raise to adulthood, are psychopaths or pathological narcissists. We just wonder why we always feel as though we have no power with these individuals, that something is not quite right about them. But many of us chalk it up to some previous difficult life issue or culture or “just being him” or “just being her.” At some point, we end up on the losing end of the relationship and we aren’t quite sure why.
It can get very interesting during those times when psychopathic or highly narcissistic personalities have to deal with each other, when they have to get along for the benefit of both parties, or wind up dueling to the death. One thing is for certain: I doubt Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, Octavian, or Cleopatra trusted each other. They each recognized that just as they considered certain individuals useful to them until they were not, their counterparts saw them in exactly the same light. It was always a cat-and-mouse game, even with those they bedded, married, or confronted in battle. If two psychopaths or narcissists end up together, they often can’t get along and so quickly go their separate ways; at other times, they become a dangerous team that goes out with a bang like Bonnie and Clyde; or one of them eventually out-psychopaths the other.
Pompey lost out to Caesar, Caesar to Antony, and, now, the stage was set for the final throw down. With a “republic” that had not really been one since before Lucius Cornelius Sulla (138-78 BCE) and clearly was not going to return to a democratic state with such strong personalities an
d such a massive amount of power and money to be controlled by anyone who could rise to the top, the Roman Senate knew all too well that the best it could do was attempt to divide the power among three dictators, a triumvirate, in a somewhat-poor attempt to avoid being ruled by a king. In fact, all the Senate did was delay the inevitable and encourage civil war between those who had their eye on total power. I do believe, though, that the Senate, having chosen Octavian as one of the triumvirate, might have considered this choice to be their last hope of regaining the republic. At that time (about 45 BCE), Octavian was playing a very good game of appealing to the Roman senators with intelligent discourse, words rather than war, and he appeared to support the idea of a true republic; and, being a man of diminutive physical stature, maybe the Senate thought Octavian preferred to use his brain rather than brawn to rule, to share power, and to delegate without damning those around him. Octavian, I am sure, made them believe this; he was a very patient and careful tactician. They wouldn’t know what had happened until it was too late. Somehow he convinced them that he would restore the republic, yet all the while he was chipping away at their liberties and rights. Eventually he had them convinced that only an emperor could possibly govern a massive Roman empire—and they agreed. Octavian was truly the heir to Julius Caesar’s rule, the only one with the incredibly high level of intelligence, ruthlessness, dispassionate decision making, and political savvy to overcome the other contenders—and, lucky for him, no one realized that one of the most brilliant psychopaths ever to rise in the political world was one of their own, until it was too late.
Cleopatra no doubt knew just how dangerous Octavian was by the time she and Antony teamed up against their common enemy. She knew she would need more than Antony’s military skills and Egypt’s wealth to prevail or even survive. She would have to outsmart the man at some point in the game.
