Chapter IX
IX
In the new year, Caesar – as I shall also call Octavius from now on – married Clodia.
The whole of Rome applauded, in the hope that their union would produce a child who might help ensure peace.
It was an illusion. Although Clodia and her maids moved into Caesar’s house, she lived entirely separately in her own apartments, where she continued with her lessons.
He assured me he never laid a finger on her. He took his pleasures elsewhere – often, it was said, with the wives of his officers, who dared not complain.
Around this time, I decided that I too should like to be married and have a family to fill my empty house. There was only one possible wife for me. I summoned my courage and went to see Titus Pomponius Atticus, now restored to his elegant villa on the Quirinal Hill, to ask for the hand of Caecilia.
Atticus was at this time almost seventy, yet still healthy and vigorous.
He had married late in life and Caecilia was his only child, to whom he was devoted.
He had been a widower for several years, which had only strengthened their bond.
Both Caecilia and Antony had told him of my efforts to ensure he was not proscribed.
He received me warmly, said he had heard much about me and swore that if ever there was anything he could do for me, I only had to name it.
I told him I would like to marry Caecilia.
His manner changed at once. He became suspicious, even hostile.
– You know I am a very wealthy man. My daughter will inherit a great fortune. I have lost count of the number of suitors who have sat where you are now and asked to marry her. I owe you a debt, Agrippa, but this is too much.
– I am not interested in your money, sir.
I would take her even if she was penniless.
Make a new will and leave your estate elsewhere if that is what concerns you.
Why not ask her what she thinks of marrying me?
I assure you, if the idea does not appeal to her, I will leave this house and you will never hear from me again.
I could see my words impressed him. He studied me carefully, then summoned a slave and asked him to fetch his daughter.
When she entered, I was so nervous I found it hard to look at her.
– My dear Caecilia, Agrippa here has asked for my permission to marry you. I had hoped to match you with the son of one of the great families of Rome. He is certainly not that! He has golden prospects, but who can tell what will become of him? I strongly advise against it. What is your opinion?
She turned to me in surprise. I cursed my foolishness and prepared to leave. But then she smiled.
– I like him well enough, Father. I need time to consider it. But I would not say no.
Atticus sighed.
– How old are you, Agrippa?
– Twenty.
– And she is fifteen. Very well, this is my offer. Leave it for a year, until she is sixteen. If at the end of that time you are both still of the same mind, I shall give my consent. Is that acceptable?
We replied that it was. I took her hand and kissed it and promised her I would write.
The expedition to rid the world of Brutus and Cassius set sail from Brundisium at the beginning of September.
Caesar and Antony travelled at the head of their legions in separate ships.
Lepidus remained behind in Rome as consul to keep order in the city and secure Italy against attack from Sextus Pompey.
I joined Caesar on his flagship, the same vessel we had sailed on when we returned from Spain, and which he had inherited from his uncle.
The waves were calm. Even so, he was soon afflicted by his old curse of seasickness. After vomiting repeatedly over the side, he had to retire to his cabin, supported by his slaves.
We were half a day into the crossing when sails appeared on the horizon.
Immediately I perceived something threatening about them – there were too many to be cargo vessels.
As we watched their number grow, I realised an enemy fleet was approaching from the south.
My first thought was that it might be Brutus and Cassius.
But they were hundreds of miles away in Greece, and their strength was on land, not water.
I concluded it must be the pirate fleet of Sextus.
Caesar was lying groaning on his couch. When I informed him of the danger, he turned even paler and threw up into a basin. He was in no condition to take a decision and told me to do whatever I thought best.
By this time the enemy ships were clearly visible less than a mile away. I was sure it would be a mistake to be drawn into a naval battle. I ordered the captain to try to outrun our pursuers. Extra sails were hoisted and the tempo of our oarsmen increased.
The wind was in our favour. Spray flew from either side of the prow as we cut through the water.
Most of the rest of the fleet followed our example, and the distance between the two forces steadily increased.
Unfortunately, a few stragglers reacted too late and were boarded and captured.
We watched it happen, yet we dared not turn round to help them. Such is war.
We reached Dyrrachium on the coast of Illyricum two days later, without further incident.
Once we were moored at the quayside, I expected Caesar to recover quickly from his sickness. But after an hour, he complained that he was feeling worse. He had to be carried ashore to the empty villa of the governor of Illyricum, a supporter of Brutus, who had fled.
That night, Caesar’s condition worsened.
His doctors diagnosed hydropisia, a painful swelling of the limbs and stomach caused by retention of fluid.
His mind swam in and out of wakefulness.
When Antony came to visit him to discover what was wrong, Caesar seemed unsure of who he was.
His speech made no sense. After a few solicitous remarks, Antony beckoned me to follow him out of the room.
– We must begin our march to Greece tomorrow. He is in no fit state to travel, let alone fight. What will you do – come with us or stay with him?
I dearly wanted to march with the army, but I knew my first duty was to Caesar, so I replied that I would stay.
From the roof of the villa, I watched the endless stream of legionaries and their war machines disembarking from the troopships to join the columns heading east. Between them Caesar and Antony had mustered an army of nineteen legions – ninety-five thousand men – one of the greatest forces ever assembled in the history of the world.
To deepen my frustration, Salvidienus had gone ahead with Antony and was in temporary command of our legions.
By daily degrees, Caesar recovered. His mind cleared.
He was able to work, propped up on his couch.
He took a few steps unaided. After nearly two weeks, he declared himself ready to join the army.
His doctors disagreed. He overruled them, although he accepted he could not ride.
I had a covered wagon with a bed prepared for him.
He was determined to catch up with the main force before the battle began.
On the Ides of September, I wrote a final letter to Caecilia, mounted my horse and submitted myself to the fortunes of war.
It was the first time I had ever ventured so far east. We made swift progress along that magnificent road the Via Egnatia, as it climbed and twisted through the mountains of Macedonia before dropping down to the plain of Thessalonica.
Skirting the coast, we reached the port of Amphipolis.
Here we encountered the tail end of the column and discovered we were now only two days’ travel from Antony’s headquarters, close to the town of Philippi.
Brutus and Cassius had arrived in the area first and had commandeered the high ground either side of the Via Egnatia.
They had an army of seventeen legions, very nearly as large as our own, and were in no hurry to give battle.
Our camp was to the south-west, on a plain looking towards the heights, with marshy ground to the rear.
Antony’s was nearby. Soon after we arrived, he summoned us to a council of war.
Although Caesar was still far from well, he was anxious not to appear weak in front of the senior officers. He leaned heavily on my arm as we walked from his carriage to Antony’s tent, then released me on the threshold and entered unaided.
The legates of all nineteen legions were waiting for him. Maps had been spread out. Antony did most of the talking, while Caesar sat shivering in his cloak.
Antony said he knew the area well. He had fought across it with Caesar during the civil war – not this Caesar, he added to laughter from his legionary commanders, the other one.
It was difficult country and time was against us.
The enemy had short supply lines. They could bring in whatever they needed by sea, whereas our lines extended all the way back overland to Dyrrachium.
The winter weather would soon turn cold and stormy.
The longer we delayed, the worse it would be for us.
In short, despite our unfavourable position, he proposed that we should attack the next day.
Afterwards Caesar always maintained that the real reason Antony wanted to strike immediately was because he knew his fellow triumvir was too ill to play much part and therefore the credit would all be his.
Still, he dared not oppose the plan outright, for fear of seeming cowardly, and after raising a few objections, he gave his reluctant assent.
Willpower alone cannot always conquer an illness – a truth I have discovered lately to my cost. The journey and the conference had exhausted Caesar. I had to support him all the way back to his tent. The next morning, he could not get out of bed.