Cleopatra the Great (29 page)

Pompeius' sons and their allies managed to avoid direct conflict for several months until Caesar finally drew them out in the spring. Battle commenced on 17 March 45
BC
some 40 miles east of modern Seville at Munda. The fifty-four-year-old was soon in the midst of fierce hand-to-hand combat on the front line, genuinely fighting for his life until the battle started to turn. In the rout that followed, his one thousand losses could be set against the thirty thousand enemy dead, with a further twenty to thirty thousand rebels killed following their continued resistance at Cordoba. And although Pompeius' younger son Sextus managed to escape yet again, his wounded brother Gnaeus was caught, executed and his severed head put on public display.

Yet Caesar was far from feeling triumphant. His exertions had taken such a toll on his health that his epilepsy resurfaced with a fainting fit at Cordoba. Filled with horror at the thought that the same should ever happen in front of his enemies and shatter his omnipotent image, he was deeply unsettled by the event. After reorganising Spain, he set out for Italy in August but did not go straight to Rome. Instead he made for his estate at Lavicum (Labici), south-east of the city, where on 13 September, contemplating his own mortality, he changed his will.

This stated that he now left three gold pieces to every Roman citizen as well as bequeathing them his Janiculum villa gardens as public parkland. Money was also earmarked for Antonius, although the bulk of his immense fortune, once intended for his son-in-law Pompeius and then to any son of Calpurnia, was left to his seventeen-year-old great-nephew Octavian. As grandson of Caesar's sister Julia and his nearest male relative as recognised in Roman law, he was to take the name Gaius ‘Julius Caesar' Octavianus — but only after Caesar's own death.

Since Roman law still prevented any bequests to foreigners there was no mention of Cleopatra or Caesarion, whose paternity would not be legitimised until Caesar's new law concerning marriage came into force. Nevertheless the will contained a clause appointing guardians for ‘a son being subsequently born to himself, and since this was clearly not by the barren Calpurnia it seems highly likely that Caesar was hoping for more children with Cleopatra, who if she had left Rome in Caesar's absence had now returned to witness his Spanish Triumph in October 45
BC
.

Towards the end of the year Caesar and his staff travelled to Puteoli, and on the night of 19 December stayed with Cicero to gauge the level of Republican feeling from his host's gossipy conversation. As Cicero described to a friend, Caesar had been ‘a formidable guest, yet no regrets! For everything went very pleasantly indeed . . . On the 19th he stayed with Philippus until one o'clock and let no one in — I believe he was doing accounts with Balbus. Then he went for a walk on the shore. After two he had a bath . . . He had an oil-massage and then sat down to dinner . . . His entourage were very lavishly provided for in three other rooms. Even the lower-ranking ex-slaves and the slaves lacked for nothing; the more important ex-slaves I entertained in style. In other words, we were human beings together. Still, he was not the sort of guest to whom you would say ‘do please come again on your way back”. Once is enough!'

Perhaps he was still contemplating his own mortality as he walked on the beach that December afternoon; thoughts of Caesarion, Cleopatra and perhaps the news that she was once again pregnant, to judge from later elusive clues, may well have been at the forefront of Caesar's mind. For he was about to leave on yet another campaign, to take on the mighty Parthian Empire in the East. This was his greatest challenge yet: he wanted to halt Parthian raids on the Roman province of Syria, avenge the defeat and death of his former political ally Crassus back in 53
BC
, but perhaps most of all emulate his hero Alexander, whose defeat of Parthia's predecessors, the Persian Empire, had brought him his own immortal fame.

Since it was said in the oracular Sibylline Books that ‘only a king can conquer the Parthians', Caesar may well have expected the title as a leaving present from the Senate. This had recently doubled in size when he had changed the law to allow in provincials from all over Italy and southern Gaul, to push through his reforms with the help of the consuls for the following year, one of whom was Antonius. It must have been quite clear Caesar was never going to reinstate the Republic which he considered an unworkable system of government when set against the Alexander-style monarchy exemplified by his partner Cleopatra.

Having learned from her potent blend of politics and religion, Caesar as Dictator controlled the state government and as Pontifex Maximus the state religion. He was already declared ‘Saviour God' in the East, following in a long tradition of ruler cults. Rome's stark divide between mortal and divine was rapidly coming to an end as the divine statuary of Caesar and Cleopatra was paralleled on their coinage. Cleopatra was the only female Ptolemy to issue coins on her own behalf, some showing her as Venus-Aphrodite. Caesar now followed her example and, taking the same bold step, became the first living Roman to appear on coins, his rather haggard profile accompanied by the title ‘Parens Patriae', ‘Father of the Fatherland'.

The Senate then transformed the traditional, temporary title of Dictator into permanent office by declaring him ‘dictator perpetuo', Dictator for Life; they awarded him the purple robes of the toga purpurae, the dress of Rome's former kings, and even a throne of gold — he was king in all but name. The public took over by crowning one of his statues and shouting, ‘Long live the King!' Encouraged by such popular support, Caesar, no doubt supported by Cleopatra and Antonius, decided to launch his bid for the throne at the annual Lupercalia Festival on 15 February.

Caesar took up his position in the Forum, dressed in his purple robes and seated on his golden throne. Then Antonius, bare-chested in the festival's traditional goatskin loincloth, publicly offered him a garland of bay twined around a royal diadem. Since such emblems of kingship were unlikely to have been widely available in Republican Rome, the diadem may well have been supplied by Rome's monarch-in-resi-dence, and ‘it is likely that Cleopatra made her contribution, even if she was not present'.

Yet the stage-managed event did not exactly go as planned. Cicero, blaming Antonius, described the moment when ‘your colleague sat on the rostra, wearing his purple toga, on his golden chair, his garland on his head. Up you come, approaching the chair . . . you display a diadem. Groans all over the Forum! Where did the diadem come from? You hadn't found it in the gutter. No, you'd brought it with you, a planned, premeditated crime. You made to place the diadem on Caesar's head amid the lamentations of the people — he kept refusing it, and the people applauded. You had been urging Caesar to make himself king, you wanted him your master rather than your colleague'.

No doubt very much in on the act, Caesar became so exasperated when the crowd applauded his refusal of the crown that he ‘got up, took off his mantle and shouted that he was ready to have his throat slit if someone wanted to do it'. He declared that he had lived long enough — his health was perhaps still worrying him, combined with ‘a tendency to nightmares', but his despondency eventually began to lift as he worked on his forthcoming campaign.

After sending an advance force east to Macedonia together with his great-nephew Octavian, who was to make up for his poor grasp of Greek by enrolling at the local university, the region was placed under the control of Antonius. Lepidus was given Spain and southern Gaul and Publius Cornelius Dolabella Syria. Caesar guaranteed Jewish support by reducing their annual tribute, and as he mapped out his strategy, his ally and partner Cleopatra of Egypt was ‘no doubt' actively involved in the consultations with Caesar and his officers.

His departure date was set for 18 March. Cleopatra would also return to Alexandria at this time, accompanied by one of Caesar's most trusted men to command the three legions charged with protecting her and their son Caesarion. And since the campaign would be a lengthy one, Caesar fixed the appointments of Rome's main officials for the next two years, when he would continue to rule as Dictator even in his absence.

Yet this remote control by a virtual monarch was more than a step too far, and as Caesar's departure date drew closer so too did his enemies.

As Caesar made his final arrangements before leaving on his Parthian campaign, the Republicans were conspiring to send him on a very different journey. The plot was ostensibly led by the son of Caesar's old friend and former lover of Servilia, Lucius Junius Brutus, who had been a supporter of Pompeius until his defeat at Pharsalus. Then, as a favour to his mother, Caesar had employed both him and his brother Decimus. Yet the family had a long tradition of Republicanism: their ancestor Lucius Brutus had expelled Rome's last king in the seventh century
BC
. And when graffiti appeared on one of Caesar's statues claiming that ‘Brutus was elected consul when he sent the kings away, Caesar sent his consuls packing and Caesar is our king today', the words ‘If only you were alive now!' were soon added to the base of a statue of Lucius Brutus.

Like many of the Republican elite his descendant had been raised to believe it was his duty to remove tyrants (usually defined as those regarded as having seized power illegally) and restore liberty. Brutus' romantic notions of regicide were soon exploited by his more pragmatic brother-in-law Cassius, who had also switched to Caesar's side after Pharsalus. Married to Servilia's daughter, the dour Cassius had been given several important posts, but despite previous military experience in Parthia with Crassus he had been passed over for Caesar's forthcoming campaign.

As the rather naive Brutus became the figurehead of Cassius' plot to assassinate Caesar they were joined by around sixty fellow conspirators, around twenty of whom are known by name. They included nine former allies of Pompeius; the rest bore personal grudges. All were sufficiently misguided to genuinely believe that the removal of Caesar, Antonius and their key supporters would bring about the immediate return of the Republic. Brutus decided to make the most of their grand gesture and at the last moment decided against killing Antonius, despite the advice of Cicero who wanted him dead too.

Having become increasingly offended that he could not always gain an audience with an increasingly busy Caesar, Cicero claimed he ‘no longer refuses to be called a tyrant, in fact he practically demands it, and that is exactly what he is', remarking that he was glad Caesar chose to compare himself with Rome's deified founder Romulus because he too had been killed by senators when he became a tyrant. Although he maintained that Caesar must fall, ‘either through the agencies of his enemies, or of himself, Cicero himself was excluded from the plot since he lacked the courage of his convictions and was such an appalling gossip.

As the rest of the conspirators formulated their plot, which soon became public knowledge, Caesar perversely began to act as if he was beyond danger, cultivating an aura of divine invulnerability by dismissing his Spanish bodyguard in February 44
BC
. Despite pleas from Antonius and no doubt Cleopatra, the Father of his Country never imagined that any of his children could seriously wish him harm, particularly since past events had repeatedly shown that only he was capable of bringing Rome victory. For, as he used to say himself, ‘It is more important for Rome than for myself that I should survive. I have long been sated with power and glory; but should anything happen to me, Rome will enjoy no peace. A new civil war will break out under far worse conditions than the last.' He should have been a prophet.

The first day of March, the month named after the war god Mars which marked the beginning of the campaigning season, was also sacred to Juno, the Greek Hera, wife of Zeus. On this date wives were traditionally given presents by their husbands. So perhaps Cleopatra, like Calpurnia, may have received even more gifts from Caesar on one of the last occasions she would ever see him.

Despite a series of bad omens, including a warning from the augur (soothsayer) Spurinna that Caesar would only be safe after 15 March, known to Romans as the Ides, he ignored it all and concentrated on the business at hand. Having ordered a statue of his former son-in-law Pompeius to be restored after it had been toppled by the crowds following Pompeius' fall from grace, Caesar had had it re-erected in the Assembly Rooms, and it was here that he called a meeting of the Senate for the morning of the 15th. Given the presence of that pithy statement in the Sibylline Book that ‘only a king could conquer Parthia', which Caesar would be setting out to do in only three days' time, the conspirators concluded that this would be their last opportunity to strike a blow for liberty and restore their beloved Republic.

On the evening of 14 March Caesar dined at Lepidus' home with a group of associates who asked him his opinion on ‘the best sort of death', to which he replied, ‘let it come swiftly and unexpectedly'. That night when he returned to his official residence, the home he shared with Calpurnia, he dreamed he floated above the clouds and shook the hand of Jupiter (Zeus) himself; Calpurnia, clearly fearful of recent gossip and rumour, told him of her dream in which their temple-like roof gable crashed down and he was stabbed to death in her arms.

Perhaps worried about a renewed attack of epilepsy in such stressful circumstances, Caesar decided to cancel his 9a.m. meeting with the Senate, maybe to enable him to consult his doctor, Antistius. But Brutus' brother Decimus dropped by and managed to persuade him otherwise. So, dressed in his purple toga, Caesar finally left home an hour late and, travelling by sedan chair, arrived at the Assembly Rooms where the Senate were already in session.

As he was about to enter, Brutus' former tutor, the Greek scholar Artemidorus, gave him a note which he said contained important information about an imminent attack. Adding it to his pile of paperwork and letters to read through later, Caesar passed the augur Spurinna to whom he bullishly claimed, ‘the Ides of March have come', to which Spurinna replied, ‘Ay, they have come, but they have not yet gone.' And although Antonius, still jumpy at the lack of bodyguards, was waiting at the entrance to accompany Caesar in, one of the conspirators took him aside and struck up a conversation with him so that Caesar would have to enter the Senate alone.

After the gathering rose to greet him, he took his golden seat in front of Pompeius' re-erected statue where a group of senators approached to talk to him. Tillius Cimber was the first to speak, coming close to plead for the return of an exiled brother. Caesar told him he would have to wait, whereupon Cimber grabbed Caesar's shoulders with both hands. As Caesar pulled away shouting, ‘This is violence!', the pack sprang upon him. One of the Casca brothers stabbed him sideways in the throat and Caesar retaliated by stabbing him in the arm with his sharp metal writing stylus, the only weapon he had to hand. But this time Caesar's pen proved no match for the blades of his enemies, and as one dagger thrust followed another and another, Cassius wounded him in the face before Brutus finally came at him.
‘Kai su teknori?'
, ‘You too my son?' asked Caesar in Greek rather than the usually quoted
‘Et tu Brute?'
Latin version.

Dignified to the end, Caesar had not cried out, and wanting no one to see him die, had covered his head with his toga while loosening his belt to let the lower part fall over his feet. He had effectively formed his own shroud as the assassins continued their attack, and finally his lifeless body slid, covered, to the ground at the foot of Pompeius' statue. Of the hundreds of senators present, only two had made any attempt to intervene. Despite the oath that of them all had taken to guard Caesar's safety, the rest simply froze before scattering in terror.

Although the murderers planned to drag Caesar's body to the Tiber and confiscate all his property amid scenes of popular rejoicing, they had severely miscalculated public feeling. Their attempts to address the gathering crowds as ‘liberators' met with such outright hostility once the news got out that they were forced to flee to the Capitoline Hill. After the bloodstained corpse had been left on the floor of the empty Assembly Rooms ‘for some time', three of Caesar's household slaves carried it back to his house in a litter, one lifeless arm hanging down at the side. With Calpurnia's nightmare now a reality, Caesar's doctor, Antistius, conducted a post mortem and discovered that of all the twenty-three wounds only one, the second to the chest, had been fatal.

As the news spread quickly through Rome, Cicero expressed his complete admiration for the deed, telling a friend that ‘our heroes most splendidly and gloriously achieved everything that was in their power.' Yet such joyful emotions were certainly not shared by the majority of those in Rome.

It would have been a matter of hours at most before the news reached Cleopatra, who must have been genuinely distraught. Tearing at her clothes and pulling at her hair in traditional gestures of mourning, she had finally become the ultimate Isis as she lived the myth, mourning for her husband the dead ruler who had been so brutally cut down.

As the masses, who had also loved Caesar, began demanding vengeance, Antonius as consul and Caesar's deputy took charge in the absence of the Senate. Acting firmly in the days after the murder, he followed Caesar's example to become only the second living person to appear on Rome's coinage. That issued shortly after the Ides of March carried the earliest known portraits of Antonius: he was shown in mourning, bearded, with his head covered in priestly fashion to stress piety toward the dead man he intended to succeed. He appointed Lepidus Pontifex Maximus to fill the priestly vacancy left by Caesar, and Lepidus returned the favour by backing him with troops.

After Calpurnia and her father Piso had handed over Caesar's private papers, his well-briefed secretary and Caesar's personal fortune to allow the implementation of Caesar's will, Antonius called a Senate meeting on 17 March. He had them ratify Caesar's plans to carry out any outstanding matters, then ordered a general amnesty and met with the assassins, knowing full well that if he punished them the civil war would begin again. But leaving them unpunished would be an admission that they had been right to kill Caesar, and so began a period of ‘armed neutrality, whilst Antonius carried on the government along Caesarian lines', using Caesar's papers, his secretary and no doubt Cleopatra's continuing advice to guide him.

When Caesar's will was read at Antonius' house on 17 March Cleopatra would have been unsurprised that, as foreigners, neither she nor Caesarion was included, although Antonius later informed the Senate that Caesar himself had acknowledged Caesarion's paternity. Yet the recent addition of a clause appointing guardians for ‘a son being subsequently born to him' seems almost certainly to have referred to Cleopatra, who was most likely pregnant again at the time of Caesar's murder.

After the will had been read out, the magistrates carried Caesar's shrouded body in public procession to the Forum where it lay in state for several days on a finely carved ivory bier spread with gold and purple cloth. With his torn and bloodied purple toga emotively displayed at the head of the couch, the temporary memorial was topped by a wax effigy bearing the twenty-three stab wounds which could be observed when the image was turned by means of a macabre mechanical device. Such effigies were a Roman practice commonly featured in Triumphal processions.

Yet the body and effigy were also laid out within a golden funerary shrine ‘modelled on the temple of Venus Genetrix', the counterpart of Isis-Hathor ‘the Golden One', and since golden funerary shrines were an ancient Egyptian tradition Cleopatra may well have been involved in Caesar's funeral rites. For although nothing could bring back the living Caesar, his transformation into Osiris according to Egyptian belief would strengthen her role as Isis, while his full deification would enhance her status and that of their son Caesarion. No doubt working closely with Antonius to promote Caesar's divine powers to their mutual advantage, an announcement was made by his former deputy that Caesar would be awarded all human and divine honours. Then Antonius led the funeral procession of officials, musicians and masked professional mourners to the Forum, where huge crowds had been holding candle-lit vigils.

Dispensing with the formal eulogy, Antonius drew on his Greek-style oratorical training and immediately won over friends, Romans and countrymen alike. After reiterating the oath taken by all senators to guard Caesar's safety, he gave an emotive reading from a popular drama in which Alexander's hero Achilles asked, ‘Did I save these men that they might murder me?' Then, as feelings spilled over, the Roman people took matters into their own hands. Despite the fact that arrangements had been made to take the body to the huge pyre on the Campus Martius, the bier was ignited where it lay in the Forum. The crowds ripped up magistrates' benches, judges' chairs, tree branches and whatever came to hand to add to the blaze; his troops threw on the arms they had carried at his Triumphs; while women offered their jewels and even the tunics and amulets of their children to encourage the flames to consume Caesar's body and release his soul.

Although Cicero would claim that Antonius had first lit ‘the torches which charred the very body of Caesar', at least one eyewitness account described two ‘divine forms, perhaps the Twin Brethren' suddenly appearing with ‘javelin at hand and sword at thigh' to set light to the pyre. And given Cleopatra's track record for stage-managed state events, including the attempted crowning of Caesar at the recent Lupercalia, it seems highly likely the two ‘divine forms' could have been actors dressed as Castor and Pollux, the twin deities popular in both Alexandria and Rome. The tale was embellished by court poets describing the gods themselves coming down for Caesar, the goddess Vesta, guardian of Rome's eternal flame maintained in her temple by the Vestal Virgins, claiming that ‘I myself carried the man away, leaving only his image behind: what fell by the sword was Caesar's shade'.

As public grief turned into mass hysteria, some of the crowd tried to burn down the homes of Brutus, Cassius and other known conspirators. One man, mistaken for an assassin, was killed and his head paraded around the streets on a spear. It was only Antonius' control of the city that prevented mass slaughter. Many of the conspirators fled Italy in fear of their lives, Brutus' brother admitting that ‘we must give place to fortune; I think we must leave Italy and go to Rhodes or somewhere else. If the best happens we shall return to Rome. If ordinary fortune, we shall live in exile, if the worst, we shall employ the last resort . . .'. Their genuine amazement that the people had not supported their actions revealed just how remote the Republican elite were from the feelings of the people whom Caesar himself had so effectively exploited and who continued to mourn his passing and honour his memory.