The Murder of Cleopatra Page 12

  Octavian grew up without a father, rarely seeing him when he was a tot and losing him to illness when he was just a boy of four. Octavian was raised by his grandmother and then by his mother, a seeming combination of overbearance and overindulgence. However, his father and stepfather were both politicians, and he didn’t lack a good education during his youth. He learned to compensate for his lack of physical stature with a quick mind and the ability to size up situations and people to his advantage. By the time he came into Caesar’s life as a teenager, he had great skill at sliding into a role that pleased Caesar; obviously he did a pretty good job in a short time, considering how Caesar made him heir so soon after. Manipulation is a key trait of psychopathy, and a smart and educated psychopath can essentially con everyone with whom he comes in contact. Considering Octavian’s meteoric rise, he likely was a master at it.

  After Caesar’s murder, Octavian really milked his connection, roused the emotions of Caesar’s supporters both in the political sphere and among the populace, and he waged a propaganda campaign, his first major one, due to Antony’s own poor behavior. Antony managed to get control of Caesar’s finances by convincing his widow, Calpernia, that he should handle them. Not long thereafter, a large sum of money went missing. Antony suddenly was doing quite well in the financial department. Octavian took this opportunity to spread rumors about Antony to everyone who would listen. Of course, Octavian was a thief himself, somehow getting hold of the Parthian campaign money and then using it to pay the citizens what Caesar had promised them before his death, showing up Antony quite effectively.

  Antony struck back with his own slander campaign, accusing Octavian of trying to assassinate him. Back and forth it went, each man trying to turn the populace or the army or the Senate against the other and win their affections. In other words, it was politics as usual in ancient Rome. Then Octavian learned to lead an army, and in spite of the stories that he was never around when the action started, there at least was a claim in circulation that he actually appeared in the middle of a foray he led against Antony. Now the Senate established the New Triumvirate and for a period of time, they were civil to each other, even though Octavian got the short stick of the distributed territories and Lepidus was just a yes-man for Antony. Antony ended up with the greatest power of the three, including the best part of the Roman territory to govern. But Antony and Octavian did join forces in a reign of terror on their adversaries in Rome by executing more than three thousand of the upper class; so neither one of them could be called a nice guy. Then they joined militarily to attack the ousted Cassius and Brutus, who were mounting a campaign against the duo. Their eventual defeat of these killers of Caesar eliminated that political annoyance. This occurred in 42 BCE. Then Pompey’s son, Sextus, attacked Antony and Octavian, and this part of the civil war lasted for the next six years. There were other outbreaks of unrest and other civil wars, so this was no time of peace for the Romans. Cleopatra, however, was likely quite pleased that the Romans were busy trying to kill each other off, leaving Egypt out of the fray for the time being.

  Antony and Octavian continued to tolerate each other, and in 40 BCE, Antony married Octavian’s sister, Octavia. For three years, Antony and Octavian managed to continue to get along, and when they both were finding themselves on the losing end of battles, Octavian against Sextus, and Antony in his failing Parthian campaign, they renewed the triumvirate. This political move lasted one year until Octavian defeated Sextus and got rid of Lepidus behind Antony’s back.

  Now there were just the two, Octavian and Antony, pitted against each other. And this time there would be no reconciliation; one would emerge victorious to win the title of emperor. At this point, Cleopatra and Egypt found themselves in trouble. When, not if, one of the Roman generals became solo dictator, Egypt would be under his thumb, in some fashion. Cleopatra’s only hope would be to attempt a repeat of the type of relationship she had with Caesar, one in which her new partner would see the reasonableness of her continued rule in Egypt with her son as long as she gave Rome what it needed. She saw that linking herself to Antony, offering him her vast wealth, troops, and ships to defeat Octavian, was her best option; she would get on his good side early and hope that he would win the day, and she could continue to be of use to him in her own Ptolemaic way. She knew there was no point in trying to partner with Octavian, and it didn’t matter if he hated her for hooking up with Antony and supporting Antony’s offense against him. Being fully aware of the kind of man Octavian was, Cleopatra knew he would not tolerate her continuing as pharaoh, nor would he even desire her to remain alive after aligning herself with his adversary. So it seemed to Cleopatra that the only prudent thing to do was throw all her weight behind Antony and hope that he would win. I agree; she made the wisest decision, indeed the only decision she could under the circumstances.

  For Cleopatra it wasn’t about increasing the Ptolemaic Empire; the Ptolemies never worried much about extending their territory; they preferred to annex nearby nations in order to protect their country, their ports, and their trade routes. Unlike Philip, Alexander, the Persians, the Parthians, and the Romans, the Egyptians were content to control their own lands since they were terribly wealthy already, in wheat and in gold and in their control of valuable trade routes; so other than timber that they obtained from a few locations outside Egypt, they were quite happy to stay within their own borders. History has been quite unfair to Cleopatra in this matter, often claiming she was terribly greedy and used Antony to further her own imperialistic desires, but I see little truth in this. She appeared to be content being the Egyptian pharaoh, as had the entire Ptolemaic line for centuries. She didn’t need expansion; she needed protection, and Antony was her only hope.

  Some historians fault Cleopatra for teaming up with Antony, claiming that she was poison for him, that she caused him to lose the battle of Actium and then deserted him in the midst of fighting to save her own skin, at least for the moment. They believe that Antony was so enamored with Cleopatra that he was blind to her foolish choices that ended up depleting his manpower and causing him the loss to Octavian; and that then, so shackled by his love for her, he left his men to their doom as he chased after Cleopatra, following her to Egypt and committing suicide with her when there was no escape left. In other words, Cleopatra ruined Antony and took him down with her. According to this view, Octavian won by taking advantage of their mistakes and, had it not been for Cleopatra, maybe Antony would have been the victor and eventually become emperor of the Roman Empire.

  That is quite a bit of anti-Cleopatra spin, courtesy of Octavian, Plutarch, and a host of future detractors. In reality, neither Cleopatra nor Antony made particularly bad choices, and Octavian was one lucky guy at Actium. Well, at least luck played a part in his success, and it is hard to determine how much was strictly unexpected good fortune and how much of the “luck” was actually of his own doing.

  Luck is a funny thing; some people seem to have great things come to them, and it appears those fortuitous events “just happened.” Yet much of what passes for luck is actually a combination of hard work, risk taking, networking, and clever strategy. When the “lucky” thing happens, people are unaware of what the individual did to get to the point where he was in the position to be the beneficiary of something good, or they have forgotten the past entirely. For example, Antony wouldn’t have had the “luck” of having Caesar bring him back to Rome as consul if he hadn’t first made himself useful or needed. Likewise, Octavian wouldn’t have received his windfall in Caesar’s will if he hadn’t impressed Caesar through his behavior or, perhaps, sex. And Cleopatra wouldn’t have become partner with Caesar or Antony if she hadn’t polished her political and social skills and maneuvered herself into a position to pitch her usefulness to each of them.

  Sometimes bad luck is not accidental, either. Ptolemy XIII had bad “luck” when Caesar chose Cleopatra over him, but then he beheaded Pompey and acted foolishly around Caesar, which didn’t exactly inspire confidenc
e in his ability to rule Egypt or work well with the Romans. Cleopatra’s and Antony’s less-than-stellar treatment of King Herod and the Nabataeans (Anthony had given their balsam groves to Cleopatra, and then Cleopatra had incited war between Herod and the Nabataeans, causing both parties to have negative feelings toward them) probably created the bad “luck” Cleopatra encountered when she needed their help or at least needed them not to turn on her (like when the Nabataeans burned her ships when she first attempted to flee Egypt after the Actium debacle).

  Then again, certain things truly are just luck, like weather and outside players popping up out of nowhere and creating havoc, or the unexpected murder of Caesar. These events are quite often just bad luck and unfortunate timing. While Caesar may have made his own misfortunes because of his attitude and dictatorship style, the impact on Cleopatra was collateral damage. As we follow the history of the intersection of Cleopatra, Antony, and Octavian, I will attempt to separate the events caused by the behaviors of each player from those that were truly beyond their control, whether for good or ill.

  Octavian certainly worked hard to raise his status and level of power after he benefited tremendously from the assassination of Caesar, courtesy, in my opinion, of his nemesis, Antony. On the one hand, he could have been raised up politically by Caesar had the latter not been murdered, but who knows how patient the ambitious Octavian would have been and how long he could have stood being in Caesar’s shadow. He may have eventually been forced into making some “luck” of his own by eliminating Caesar in the same manner as Antony. Of course, he may have been Antony’s target of assassination if Antony didn’t take kindly to being displaced by the nephew of Caesar. We will never know how history would have played out if the Ides of March had gone by peacefully.

  A very fascinating facet of Octavian’s life and luck centers around his health. He was considered a weakling and a frail child, and this image carried into adulthood and stayed with him all his life until his death at seventy-seven years of age! I am sure countless enemies held out hope that he would keel over at some opportune time, but this never happened. Which leads me to question how physically challenged he really was. Did Octavian actually fall victim to as many illnesses as have been reported, or was he “incapacitated” at convenient times? Was Octavian feigning illness and playing people at the same time? Certainly, he was a master manipulator, so it could very well be that his precarious health was nothing but a ploy to get out of certain situations he felt he would benefit from avoiding. Did he play his role as fragile and frail to fool people into overlooking the crafty mastermind behind the near “invalid” who would soon deal a fatal blow to them?

  I think we may be looking at a combination of reality and spin. Early on Octavian may have learned from some real event how useful it could be to play sick and unable to rise to physical activities like going to battle. How convenient! Mocking aside, although skipping the fight doesn’t do much for one’s image as a general, sometimes it makes more sense to stay alive and be the man behind the scenes, delegating the job of general to someone like the brilliant Agrippa, Octavian’s finest general, rather than get oneself killed trying to impress people. I believe Octavian realized he would never rise to the level of as beloved a general as his uncle, Julius Caesar, or his adversary, Mark Antony; so, being a thinking man, he chose to pull the strings behind the curtain instead of risking misfortune on the battlefield.

  It is claimed that he had headaches and epileptic seizures that grew worse as he grew older. Yet it is also stated that he ate a simple diet and was an excellent horseman who could ride bareback at full gallop, which meant he had strong leg muscles and he was capable of withstanding long journeys. But he was also quite often reported to be ill, unable to fight or travel, or indisposed at certain times. Let’s look at the reported incidents of illness and see if we can detect a pattern that might indicate Octavian was dissembling about his health or if such times really inconvenienced him and were true debilitating sicknesses.

  One of the first reported incidences of Octavian falling ill at a very important moment occurred during the combined efforts of Antony and Octavian to attack Philippi and take down Brutus and Cassius. It was said that he had dropsy, a fluid accumulation in his body. I am not sure why he should have suffered this malady since there is no particular cause for such a response in the body that is mentioned. Some think it was psychosomatic, that he freaked out when it came to having to go to battle and risk his life. I think he held back with this excuse in order to let Antony take the risk alone since the outcome of the battle was very much in doubt. It would be a win-win situation for Octavian. If Brutus and Cassius were vanquished, these two enemies would be taken care of and Octavian would still be around to take advantage of fewer opposing factions. If Antony was killed in battle, then Octavian would be ahead of the game. I think it may have been a strategic decision and as a new player, so young and frail-looking, he probably reasoned that he could get away with not leading his men into battle.

  As it turned out, Antony got himself into a bad situation, not one that ended in his death but one that meant a lack of success for the mission; he needed reinforcements, so Octavian, still ill, somehow managed to crawl out of bed and take his men in. However, when Cassius later attacked Octavian’s camp and speared all his men, Octavian’s body was not on the ground with them. Yes, he had removed himself in his “illness” to a safer location and survived the rout. He was called a coward, but somehow I think his decision served him well. Being the lesser of two evils, an image of weakness could be used as a ruse to attract opponents to a fight that they would find was more in Octavian’s favor than they thought. Octavian also made up for his wimpy image by having his henchmen brutally kill selected victims and watching with ice in his veins. He may not have shown himself to be courageous in battle, but he was a rather scary, sadistic guy to be feared in many other ways.

  In his book Augustus, Anthony Everitt writes of Octavian’s return to Rome after he and Antony shared the victory over Brutus and Casius, and, apparently, I am not the only one to question Octavian’s use of sickness as a ruse:

  Octavian was carried back to Italy, where his arrival was awaited with fear and loathing. His illness flared up again dangerously on the journey, and he stayed for a while at Brundisium. He was thought unlikely to survive and at one point a rumor circulated that he was actually dead. Some thought his sickness was a charade, that he was delaying his return because he was planning some devilish new scheme for fleecing the citizenry. Despite his reassurances to the contrary, people hid their property or left town.1

  Being sick or dying or dead is a great way to buy time, toy with people’s emotions, and get sympathy. With Octavian being a master manipulator, I tend to lean toward his use of his health as a foil.

  When Octavian went off on another joint venture with Antony at Brundisium with far more troops, his illness, yet again, forced him to let Antony take the lead, alone. Even during his victorious final battle against Sextus, Octavian was flat on his back while Agrippa won the day.

  It is no wonder Antony did not like the man.

  As the showdown with Antony and Cleopatra was yet to come, I am sure both Cleopatra and Antony were hoping Octavian wasn’t faking all his illnesses and would do them a favor and die during one of them. Although that never did happen (and, as it turned out, Octavian lived a long, long life), neither of them could be absolutely sure he was totally faking these incidents. The hope that illness might slow him down or do him in always must have been in the back of their minds as one possibility that could change the course of events. Even putting him in physically or emotionally stressful situations could be a tactic to try to force a change of outcome. Outlasting Octavian, I believe was always something Cleopatra kept in mind to the bitter end, that one more day before any showdown was one more day that might mean Octavian’s health would decide the fate of all involved.

  As an amusing side note, here is but another example of why Cleopatra chose
to partner with Antony and not Octavian. When Lepidus was eliminated from the triumvirate (sent into exile) and the uprising of Sextus was ended (Sextus escaped but was found and executed), it was just Antony or Octavian who held the future of the Roman people in their hands. The remaining republicans, who still held onto some hope that Rome would escape the rule of an emperor, were willing to accept a dictator who they felt would rule in a less autocratic way or would at least be a bit flexible. Whom did they choose to throw their weight behind? Antony, the lesser of two evils, for many of the same reasons Cleopatra preferred him to Octavian: he was more amenable to others and a hell of a lot more fun.

  One thing that is rather deceptive and causes us not to quite understand why things happened the way they did in the ancient world is that time is often “condensed” in the books we read. From one page to the next, years may pass, but there is a tendency not to realize exactly how much time actually went by. Also, with what are sometimes long distances being covered by foot, horse, camel, and ship during the days of Cleopatra, the time that may pass from the moment one decides to invade a country or embark on a visit to when that invasion or visit actually takes place may be months or even years. Travel was extraordinarily slow, relative to today’s standard, and because of this, there was always a big problem with carrying enough provisions to make the trek. One had to bring them, purchase them along the way at outposts or major centers of trade, or confiscate them from the local people—essentially force the locals to turn over whatever is needed for the survival of one’s men. Even obtaining drinking water could be a major problem.

  Here is the way some people think of the history of Cleopatra: Cleopatra becomes queen and soon Julius Caesar shows up. She beds him, has a baby, and soon thereafter Caesar is murdered. So, a few months later, she hooks up with Mark Antony and soon she has twins; and then a few more months later, they go off to fight Octavian at Actium. They lose and run back to Egypt. A few weeks pass, Octavian shows up, and both Cleopatra and Antony die. If you ask a number of people how long it was between the time Cleopatra became queen and date of her death, they would say two hours—the length of a film! Yes, I am joking; but, seriously, some would say, “Maybe, five or six years. . . . Maybe seven.”