Chapter X #2
More than a year had passed since I had asked for her hand in marriage. We had not seen each other in all that time, although we had written often.
I found her letters just now, brittle with age, tied with a ribbon, and spent a happy melancholy hour by lamplight in this silent house reading through them – full of news of her life and tender concern for my safety.
It was just as I remembered. Her affection for me seemed to have grown rather than diminished.
She was then sixteen and I was twenty-one.
The time had come to hold Atticus to our bargain.
He received me in his library with the best grace he could muster.
I did not have to state the reason for my visit.
He said he had been expecting me to come, ever since Caesar returned to the city.
He summoned Caecilia and asked if we had reached a decision.
I replied that my feelings were unchanged. He turned to her.
– And you, my dear Caecilia?
– With all my heart I wish to marry Agrippa.
He gave a sad smile, then rose and took each of us by the hand.
– Well then, that is that. I am a man of my word. You have my blessing. And when is the wedding to be?
Speed in all things was then and now my motto. I answered at once.
– Tomorrow.
Apart from my absurd fear of losing her if I delayed by more than a day, I knew that Caesar would expect me to leave with him for Campania very soon.
But Caecilia did not object, and so it was all done very quickly.
Atticus had the house decorated with flowers.
A few guests were invited, mostly girlfriends of Caecilia.
Caesar and Maecenas accompanied me. She wore a bridal gown and veil.
We said our vows and broke the traditional loaf, then sat down to the wedding feast.
From time to time I glanced across the table at Caesar.
He looked ill at ease. Absurd as it seems, I believe he was jealous.
I have often observed that the closer a male friendship, the more a marriage can disrupt it.
Caesar was divorced and still as solitary, in a way, as he had been as a teenager.
He could see that I was in love. And with Caecilia’s dowry and her expectation of inheriting a great fortune, I was now independently wealthy, no longer so reliant on his favour.
He left before the end of the meal, saying he had much to do.
We walked in a small procession from the Quirinal to my house on the Palatine, where I carried Caecilia over the threshold and introduced her to the staff.
Our wedding night was all I had dreamed of during our long separation.
We looked forward to at least a few days together – it was the first time we had been alone.
But soon after dawn the following morning, a messenger came from Caesar to say that he was leaving Rome that day and my presence was required within the hour.
As I donned my familiar chainmail, Caecilia lay on the bed watching me.
I could tell she was trying not to cry. I assured her our marriage would not always be like this, and that I would return to her very soon.
Even as I spoke, though, I knew we had a fight on our hands, and I would probably be away a long time.
Caesar was in a foul mood from the moment I joined him, and this ill humour persisted for many months.
I shall not recount all the various manoeuvrings as the two opposing factions raced around Italy throughout that spring and early summer raising their forces.
Suffice it to say that all attempts at mediation failed, and by the end of the summer we were at Alba, about fifteen miles south-east of Rome, where two of Lucius’s legions were said to be on the point of mutiny and Caesar was trying to bribe them to come over to him.
Up to this moment, no fighting had occurred. But then Lucius sent an army under the command of Gaius Furnius to ensure his legions’ continued loyalty. There was some skirmishing, and when Furnius suddenly retreated northwards, Caesar, impatient to draw first blood, decided to pursue him.
I was against this from the start. Salvidienus, en route from Spain, had only recently crossed the Alps into Italy.
I warned Caesar that in my view it would be risky to move our main force too far from Rome until we had linked up with Salvidienus’s six legions.
He accused me of lacking fighting spirit.
He said he had noticed this often lately.
His tone was sneering. Perhaps marriage had changed me?
I have been accused of many sins, but never cowardice. It cost me some effort not to lose my temper. Nevertheless, I did as he commanded, and issued the necessary orders.
We harried Furnius’s rear for more than a week as he withdrew further and further along the Via Flaminia, across the mountains and up into Umbria, where he eventually sought refuge in the fortified town of Sentinum.
Caesar brought up siege engines and we settled down for a long struggle in this remote corner of Italy.
By now, he was beginning to recognise that he had made a serious mistake, although he could not bring himself to admit it, until Lepidus, of all people, turned up in our camp, his noble jowls quivering with affronted dignity.
He informed us that Lucius had taken advantage of our absence and had occupied Rome the previous week with his entire army.
He had announced to an enthusiastic meeting of the people that both Lepidus and Caesar were public enemies, and that Antony was returning from Egypt to restore the Republic.
Lepidus had been obliged to flee for his life.
Caesar sank into a chair in shock.
The following day, Maecenas arrived with more news from one of his spies.
Lucius and his army were preparing to leave Rome and march north.
Caesar called for a map.
He took the obvious view that Lucius must be heading our way to relieve the siege and join forces with Furnius. I countered that it was equally likely that his intention was to intercept Salvidienus on his march south.
When Caesar curtly disagreed, I asked if we might talk alone.
Once the others had withdrawn, I told him what I had witnessed after the Battle of Philippi, when Salvidienus and Antony had both believed that he was dead. I described the rueful glances they had exchanged when I informed them he was still alive.
– Why didn’t you tell me about this at the time?
– It was only a glance. I’ve never liked Salvidienus, but I don’t care to tell tales behind a man’s back. I had no evidence of his treachery. I still don’t. But imagine if he and Lucius meet and decide to join forces. Then they will outnumber us more than two to one.
It was not unlikely in an age when commanders changed sides as easily as they changed clothes.
– What do you propose?
– We should leave a token force here to continue the siege and move the bulk of the army back down south to head off Lucius before he can reach Salvidienus.
– So you would take charge of the siege while I deal with Lucius?
– Willingly, if that is what you want.
He stared at the map and thought about it for a long while. He grunted, and looked hard at me. Then came the moment that was to define our relationship for the rest of our lives.
– No, you are a better soldier than I am. Your health is more reliable. You should command the main army. I shall remain here.
He promoted me to the rank of legate, thus granting me imperium and with it the red cloak of a general in the field. Soon after dawn, I assembled our force of some twenty thousand men.
Caesar rose early to see us off. We stood together on the back of a cart. He shook my hand and lifted it above my head, provoking a roar from the centuries. He bent his head to my ear and wished me good fortune.
– You have certainly come a long way from the schoolyard!
It was my first independent command. The responsibility was immense. And yet I felt no anxiety. Why? It was more than just youthful confidence. Some soldiers like receiving orders. I have always preferred issuing them. I had an absolute conviction that I was doing what I was born to do.
The Via Flaminia is a fine road, built two centuries ago for strategic reasons and specifically designed to enable a forced march, six abreast. In two days, we covered more than sixty miles.
Each morning I sent scouts ahead to try to locate the whereabouts of the armies of Lucius and Salvidienus.
At night I studied the local maps. My plan was to find a base in the hills to the west and lure Lucius into battle amid the gorges and ravines.
If he refused to take the bait, we could descend into the valley of the Tiber and attack him from behind.
I consulted some officers who knew the terrain.
From their descriptions, I settled on the walled town of Sutrium as the most promising fortress.
We reached it on the fourth day with barely an hour to spare. Lucius’s legions were so close we could see the dust raised by their cavalry, approaching along the road from Rome.
The town was all that I had hoped. Its walls of whitish tufa rose like a natural stone formation out of the surrounding rock so that it seemed to have been hewn out of the hill upon which it sat.
Surrounded by wooded ravines, it could only be approached by a narrow neck to the west. We invested it without opposition, and the rest of the army encamped around it.
I ordered twice as many fires to be lit as usual so that at night the glow could be seen for miles and Lucius would believe our numbers greater than they were.