Chapter XVI
XVI
The task of absorbing Egypt into the empire delayed Caesar’s return to Italy for nearly a year. It was not until the following summer that he sent word to the Senate that he was on his way home to Brundisium.
All the most prominent men in Rome immediately hastened south to welcome him.
I remember the day of his arrival was ferociously hot, even for that part of Italy in July.
A grandstand with benches for several hundred senators and knights had been erected along the waterfront, with a canopy to protect us from the sun.
Before we were allowed to take our places, we were frisked for concealed weapons. Soldiers stood nearby.
Exactly at the appointed hour, Caesar’s flagship appeared in the entrance of the harbour, with its escort of triremes.
At once, the low murmur of conversation among the senators gave way to silence.
Most were nervous at the prospect of his arrival.
All were aware of his reputation for vindictive cruelty.
None was sure what he might do. Even his adopted father the dictator had not risen so high above his peers, and then at least there had been powerful Republicans – Brutus, Cassius, Decimus and others – willing to band together in the name of liberty and bring him down.
Now there were no statesmen left of equal stature.
All lay dead upon the battlefields or at the bottom of the sea.
The flagship, instead of mooring at the quayside in front of us, dropped anchor in the middle of the harbour.
Presently a small tender was lowered, and a slight figure in a wide-brimmed straw hat was helped into it by a couple of soldiers.
As he came closer, he doffed his hat to the waiting senators, who abruptly rose as one and broke out in loud applause.
And with this ostentatious display of modesty, Caesar returned to claim his destiny.
He went down the line shaking hands, acknowledging compliments, exchanging a few words here and there.
He lingered longest with Cicero Minor, a couple of years younger than us, whose two months in office had coincided with the victory over Antony, and who had therefore had the satisfaction of announcing the death of his father’s mortal enemy to the Senate.
I was standing with Maecenas. Together we watched Caesar’s progress.
I noticed he was wearing shoes with built-up heels to increase his height.
When he reached us, he embraced us both and kissed our cheeks.
His were rough with bristle and white from seasickness.
Beneath his prominent brows his grey eyes were bloodshot.
He looked less than ever like his official statues.
He whispered in my ear that he wanted me to join him for dinner that evening.
I wondered what the future held for me.
His staff had requisitioned a small house on the outskirts of the town, somewhat isolated, and therefore easier to protect.
It was heavily guarded. In the vestibule, I was once again checked for weapons.
By chance, at that moment Caesar appeared with one of his secretaries and angrily told the guards to stop.
– Never do that again, not to this man, not if you want to live another day.
He led me into a room where a meal for two had been laid out.
– I’m sorry to have to take such precautions, but I’m determined not to repeat the mistakes of my adopted father. I shan’t expose myself to assassination if I can help it. Neither will I strut around like a king and have myself declared dictator for life or any nonsense like that.
I said he now had so much power he had no need to flaunt it.
– Exactly. Everything will be different from now on.
We settled down to eat, and our relations were soon as easy as before. He had always seemed older than his years, but his success in Egypt had aged him even more. His cunning had matured into wisdom, his ruthlessness was tempered by calculation. He knew exactly what he wanted to do.
– I have decided to maintain the facade of the old Republic.
Continuity with the past is important to us Romans.
So the Senate will meet as it has done for centuries.
There will still be popular assemblies. Elections for the senior magistracies will continue to be held annually, although naturally I shall keep an eye on the candidates.
Dissent will be tolerated, up to a point, as long as it doesn’t threaten the stability of the state.
As a precaution, I shall maintain control of the army.
I believe all this will be approved of by the ordinary citizens if not by the patricians.
The people are sick of civil war. They crave order more than anything else.
I said that I agreed, although I couldn’t help posing the question that had troubled me ever since he sent me home from Actium. What if something were to happen to him?
He took several sips of wine before he answered, and I had the sense that he was about to disclose something he had not discussed with anyone.
– Have you ever read Cicero’s book on the Republic?
You should, it really is very good. What a pity he didn’t live a little longer!
He argued that an ideal state required three elements of government – the people, in the form of popular assemblies, an aristocracy represented by the Senate, and a king.
Each would check and balance the power of the other two.
– I thought you just said you would never make the mistake of behaving like a king.
– I shan’t. The very word is poison to a Roman. It will never pass my lips, nor will ‘dictator’, for that matter. I shall take a more palatable title – ‘first citizen’, perhaps, or something similar.
– All this is good. But with respect, you haven’t addressed my question. What happens if you die – or I should say when you die, since none of us is immortal?
– I shall nominate a successor, someone from within my own family.
There must be an element of heredity if the kingly element of the constitution is to work.
Family, name, tradition – these are what inspire men to fight and die.
Look at me – I owe everything to the fact I carry Caesar’s blood in my veins.
Irrational, I agree, but if I have learned nothing else, it is that human beings are irrational, guided more by their emotions than by reason.
I could not help secretly reflecting that if it was a matter of Caesar’s blood, I carried far more of it than he did.
– Your successor – may I ask whom you have in mind?
– I don’t yet have a son of my own, more’s the pity, so until I do, it must either be my stepson Tiberius or my nephew Marcellus.
But they’re both still only twelve, and it’s too early to say which might make the better ruler.
Livia will want it to be Tiberius, as he’s her child, and of course he’ll also be your son-in-law.
He’s not of Caesar’s blood, though, and I’m not yet convinced he has the necessary temperament.
– And what if something happens to you before they reach maturity?
– Then you, my dear Agrippa – you will have to take control of the state until one of them comes of age.
Caesar leaned across the table and grasped my hand.
– I intend to be elected consul for the next two years, with you as my colleague. We will run the Republic between us.
I felt a great surge of gratitude and loyalty towards my old friend, who had taken me with him at every stage of his long and perilous journey from the schoolyard to supreme authority. But when I started to thank him, he held up a warning hand to stop me.
– There is one other thing. For this new system built around my family to succeed, I need to demonstrate to everyone that you and I are utterly bound together – not just as friends and colleagues but as kinsmen.
I know it is a hard thing to ask, perhaps a great sacrifice.
Even so, I must ask you to divorce Caecilia and marry my eldest niece, Claudia Marcella.
The following day, we began our slow progress back to Rome.
A great retinue of senators and knights followed in Caesar’s train. Toadies and hypocrites jostled for a word and hoped for his favour.
I rode alone, brooding on what Caesar had told me.
The only other man to whom he had divulged his plans was Maecenas, and soon after we left Brundisium he caught me up and trotted alongside me to offer his congratulations.
His words were flattering – you have risen so high from lowly beginnings purely on merit …
no man deserves it more … your abilities are indispensable …
Yet skilled though he was at concealing his true feelings, I could tell that he was jealous of my elevation, and with his usual feline precision he proceeded to put his finger precisely on the source of what was troubling me.
– It is a shame, though, about Caecilia.
I answered dismissively, as if my marriage was of no consequence.
– Oh, I’m not concerned about that!
But he was not fooled. We both knew I would be divorcing under duress. Yet to have hesitated even for an instant when Caesar made his demand would have been taken as a grave insult – or worse, as evidence of disloyalty – and the gods alone know where I might have ended up then.
Besides, it would have been the grossest hypocrisy.
Had I not urged the marriage of Octavia to Antony, and of Caesar to Scribonia, without the slightest compunction, believing that the sacrifice of one’s personal life was the price that had to be paid for power?
I could hardly object to paying it myself if I wanted a chance of supreme authority.