Chapter XI #2
Apparently she had got as far as Macedonia when she met Antony coming the other way from Egypt.
According to Maecenas’s informants, he had treated her harshly, blamed her violent temper for bringing him to the edge of ruin and refused to allow her to return with him to Italy.
She was already in poor health. Not long after he left, she had succumbed to her illness and died.
Caesar’s lethargy vanished in an instant.
– So, the old she-wolf is dead at last! Antony must be relieved.
– On the contrary. According to my informant, he is racked with guilt. I believe this offers us an opportunity. I am told Antony is as weary of this war as we are. In my opinion, Caesar, you should write to him and offer your condolences.
– But surely he knows I detested Fulvia?
– What does that matter? Hypocrisy is the essence of diplomacy. You should take this opportunity to point out that Fulvia’s death removes a major obstacle to a renewal of your friendship. Indeed, you should go further. You should propose he takes a new wife.
– And who might that poor unfortunate creature be?
– Well, there is one obvious candidate, newly available – your sister, Octavia.
There was a long silence. Caesar stared at him. I thought he might lose his temper. Instead, he was intrigued.
– But Antony is infatuated with Cleopatra. He even has a son by her.
– Obviously he would have to give her up.
– Yes, obviously. But would he?
– For all his excesses, Antony is no fool.
In a choice between power and sentiment, a man like him will always choose power.
Marriage to Octavia would guarantee an alliance with you.
It would entirely restore his fortunes. He would never dare jeopardise that for a dalliance with another woman, not even the Queen of Egypt.
Caesar brooded on it.
– Agrippa, what do you think?
I thought of Octavia, honourable and noble. I thought of Antony, dangerous and impulsive. And I thought of Italy, burned and bleeding, crying out for peace. One had only to pose the question to know the answer.
– Octavia is a patriot, like her mother. I’m sure she would do her duty and put the interests of her country above all personal considerations. I agree with Maecenas. It is the obvious solution.
Caesar sent his offer to Antony under a white flag of truce the following day. There was no time to consult Octavia, who was three hundred and fifty miles away in Rome. It did not matter in any case. He expressed confidence that she would do as he asked.
– Antony is younger than her last husband, and not unattractive in his swaggering way. Women are always falling for him.
It was a measure of Antony’s desperation that he responded by letter immediately, accepting the proposal. He suggested they should draw up a general peace agreement, with the marriage at its heart.
Maecenas negotiated on behalf of Caesar.
Antony’s representative was Asinius Pollio, an experienced officer.
By law at that time, a Roman widow was forbidden to marry until at least ten months after the death of her husband.
Unfortunately, Marcellus had only been dead for four.
But no one wanted to wait another half-year, and Maecenas found a sympathetic priest who gave his opinion that the rule could be waived.
A week later, Caesar rode into Brundisium for the signing of the formal treaty.
The journey involved passing through Antony’s siege works.
Fearing a trap, we laid on a heavy bodyguard.
Antony joined us, with similar protection.
In a villa on the outskirts of the town, watched by their lieutenants, the two future brothers-in-law met in the centre of the main room and embraced.
It was a very different encounter to their last. Then, in the aftermath of Philippi, Caesar had been diminished by his failure to play much of a part on the battlefield.
Now, having disposed of the threat from Lucius and Fulvia, he carried himself with a victor’s confidence.
For the first time, Antony treated him with respect.
Under the terms of their new treaty, Caesar took the whole of the western empire, including Gaul and Spain, while Antony had everything in the east – Macedonia, Greece, Asia, Syria. The Triumvirate was still in force, but Lepidus was in Africa and that was all he got.
After they had signed, Antony asked if he could speak with Caesar in private, and the pair retired to an adjoining room.
When Caesar emerged soon afterwards, his expression was grim.
I knew better than to ask him outright what was wrong, but I did not have long to wait.
As soon as we were back in our camp, he told the others to leave, then described what had happened.
– Antony said he wanted there to be no suspicion between us from now on. In that spirit, he felt I should know that Salvidienus had recently offered to come over to his side, bringing the six Gallic legions with him. He showed me a letter to prove it.
– Why didn’t he accept?
– He said he didn’t think the legions would follow Salvidienus. You were right to be suspicious. He is a serpent!
We debated what to do. I was all for arresting Salvidienus at once, holding a court martial and executing him out of hand. Caesar was more cautious.
– That would have a bad effect on the army. Some of his officers might even try to rescue him. Let’s keep this between ourselves. There’s no need to rush. He can’t do much harm now. I’ll settle scores with him in my own time, when he has none of his men around him.
I marvelled at the way he was able to keep his composure over the following weeks. If anything, he treated Salvidienus with even more friendliness than previously, asking his advice, playing dice with him, inviting him to dine. Old Big Nose did not suspect a thing.
As Caesar had predicted, when we returned to Rome, Octavia agreed without complaint to marry Antony.
The lingering doubt about legality was settled by an edict of the Senate granting them a special dispensation.
She was now more than six months pregnant with her dead husband’s child – not that Antony seemed to care.
The ceremony was held in Caesar’s house.
Octavia looked radiantly healthy, accompanied by her two little girls.
Antony also brought his children with him: Antonia, his teenage daughter by his first wife, and his two young sons by Fulvia, Antonius and Antyllus.
Standing together, the seven of them looked the picture of the ideal Roman family.
What none of us knew at the time was that Cleopatra, who had already borne Antony one son, was pregnant with his twins.
To secure a general peace, it was necessary to reach a settlement with Sextus, who still controlled Sicily and Sardinia and various enclaves in the south of Italy.
To that end, Maecenas opened negotiations through intermediaries and arranged for a second treaty to be agreed on the Bay of Naples, which lay midway between the two sides.
Caesar and Antony travelled there together.
Because neither party trusted the other, it was agreed that the talks should take place somewhere private and ideally surrounded by water, like the island at Bononia where the Triumvirate was established. I went ahead and scouted the area for a suitable location.
The short stretch of coast between Misenum and Neapolis in those days looked nothing like it does now.
A spit of land separated the sea from the Lucrine Lake, and behind it the larger Lake Avernus.
The land was wild and marshy, girdled by low mountains.
These brackish lakes were full of oyster beds.
I spent two days searching without success.
In the end, I decided we would have to create our own artificial island, and arranged for the construction of a large wooden platform, which we towed out to sea and anchored close to the shore.
The principals were allowed to take only one companion. Salvidienus stepped forward, assuming he would accompany Caesar, and was taken aback when Caesar selected me instead. Antony took the faithful Asinius Pollio. Sextus chose his father-in-law, L. Scribonius Libo, who commanded his fleet.
Who now ever mentions Sextus Pompey? And yet in his day he was a most formidable figure – not yet thirty, still determinedly keeping alive the flame of his father’s glory.
He was rowed across to the platform from his flagship, a massive vessel as high as an apartment block, with six tiers of oars.
Throughout the talks it rode at anchor a short distance away, a menacing reminder of his power.
Our triremes looked like pleasure craft beside it.