William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh
W. & A. K. Johnston, Limited, Edinburgh & London.
With the arrival of the senators trouble began to brew in the camp. Cleopatra’s power and authority were much resented by the new-comers, to whom the existing situation was something of a revelation. They had not realised that the Queen of Egypt was playing an active part in the preparations, and many of them speedily recognised the fact that Antony, as Autocrat of the East and husband of Cleopatra, was hardly the man to restore a republican government to Rome. It was not long before some of them began to show their dislike of the Queen and to hint that she ought to retire into the background, at any rate for the time being. There was one old soldier, Cnæus Domitius Ahenobarbus, the representative of an ancient republican family, who would never acknowledge Cleopatra’s right to the supremacy which she had attained, nor, on any occasion, would he address her by her title, but always called her simply by her name. This man at length told Antony in the most direct manner that he ought to send Cleopatra back to Egypt, there to await the conclusion of the war. He seems to have pointed out that her presence with the army gave a false impression, and would be liable to alienate the sympathies of many of his Roman friends. He suggested, perhaps, that the Queen should vacate her place in favour of Cæsarion, whose rights few denied. Antony, seeing the wisdom of this advice, told Cleopatra to return to Alexandria; but she, in great alarm, is said to have bribed Publius Canidius, one of Antony’s most trusted councillors, to plead with him on her behalf—the result being that the proposal of Domitius Ahenobarbus was discarded, and the Queen remained with the army. Publius Canidius had pointed out to Antony that the Egyptian fleet would fight much more willingly if their Queen were with them, and Egyptian money would be more readily obtained if she herself were felt to be in need of it. “And, besides,” said he, “I do not see to which of the kings who have joined this expedition Cleopatra is inferior in wisdom; for she has for a long time governed by herself a vast kingdom, and has learnt in your company the handling of great affairs.”[111]
The Queen’s continuance at Ephesus and her connection with the war was the cause of great dissensions, and the Roman senators began to range themselves into two distinct parties: those who fell in with Antony’s schemes, and those who now favoured a reconciliation with Octavian as a means of ridding Roman politics of Cleopatra’s disturbing influence. When the efforts of the peacemakers came to her ears her annoyance must have been intense. Were all her hopes to be dashed to the ground just because a few stiff-backed senators disliked the idea of a foreign sovereign concerning herself with republican politics? She no longer trusted Antony, for it seemed apparent to her that he was, at heart, striving only for his own aggrandisement, and was prepared to push her into the background at the moment when her interests threatened to injure his own. It was she who had incited him into warfare, who had kept him up to the mark, aroused him to his duties, and financed to a large extent his present operations; and yet he was, even at this eleventh hour, half-minded to listen to those who urged him to make peace. Only recently he had made some sort of offer to Octavian to lay down his arms if the latter would do likewise. At the time Cleopatra had probably thought this simply a diplomatic move designed to gain popularity; but now she seems to have questioned seriously Antony’s desire for war, and to have asked herself whether he would not much prefer peace, quietness, and leisure wherein to drink and feast to his jovial heart’s content. Yet war was essential to her ambitions, and to the realisation of the rights of her son. If Octavian were not overthrown, she would never have any sense of security; and with all her heart she desired to come to a safe harbour after these years of storm and stress.
It will be seen, then, that to her the need of preventing peace was paramount. She therefore made one last effort in this direction; and, bringing all her arts and devices to bear upon her husband, she began to persuade him to issue a writ casting off Octavia and thereby insulting Octavian beyond the limits of apology. As soon as the scheme came to the ears of the peace party pressure was brought to bear on Antony to effect a reconciliation with Octavia; and the unfortunate man appears to have been badgered and pestered by both factions until he must have been heartily sick of the subject. Cleopatra’s councils, however, at last prevailed to this extent, that Antony decided to make a forward movement and to cross the sea to Greece, thus bringing hostilities a step nearer. At the end of April he sailed over from Ephesus to the island of Samos, leaving a part of the army behind him. Here he remained for two or three weeks, during which time, in reaction after his worries, he indulged in a round of dissipations. He had told his various vassals to bring with them to the rendezvous their leading actors and comedians, so that the great gathering should not lack amusement; and now these players were shipped across to Samos, there to perform before this audience of kings and rulers. These sovereigns competed with one another in the giving of superb banquets, but we do not now hear of any such extravagances on the part of Cleopatra, who was probably far too anxious, and too sobered, to give any extraordinary attention to her duties as hostess. Splendid sacrifices were offered to the gods in the island temples, each city contributing an ox for this purpose; and the sacred buildings must have resounded with invocations to almost every popular deity of the east and west. The contrast was striking between the brilliancy and festivity at Samos and the anxiety and dejection of the cities of the rest of the world, which had been bereft of their soldiers and their money, and were about to be plunged into all the horrors of internecine warfare. “While pretty nearly the whole world,” says Plutarch, “was filled with groans and lamentations, this one island for some days resounded with piping and harping, theatres filling, and choruses playing; so that men began to ask themselves what would be done to celebrate victory when they went to such an expense of festivity at the opening of the war.”
Towards the end of May the great assemblage crossed over the sea to Athens, and here Antony and Cleopatra held their court. The Queen’s mind was now, I fancy, in a very disturbed condition, owing to the ominous dissensions arising from her presence with the army, and to the lack of confidence which she was feeling in her husband’s sincerity. I think it very probable that they were not on the best of terms with one another at this time, and, although Antony was perhaps a good deal more devoted to the Queen than he had been before, there may have been some bickering and actual quarrelling. Cleopatra desired the divorce of Octavia and immediate war, but Antony on his part was seemingly disinclined to take any decisive steps. He was, in fact, in a very great dilemma. He had, apparently, promised the Queen that if he were victorious he would at once aim for the monarchy proposed by Julius Cæsar, and would arrange for Cæsarion to succeed in due course to the throne; but now it had been pointed out to him by the majority of the senators who were with him that he was earnestly expected to restore the republic, and to celebrate his victory by becoming once more an ordinary citizen. In early life he would have faced these difficulties with a light heart, and devised some means of turning the situation to his own advantage. Now, however, the power of his will had been undermined by excessive drinking; and, moreover, he had come to be extremely dependent upon Cleopatra in all things. He was very fond of her, and was becoming daily more maudlin in his affections. He was now nearly fifty years old; and, with the decrease of his vitality, he had ceased to be so promiscuous in affairs of the heart, centering his interest more wholly upon the Queen, though she herself was no longer very youthful, being at this time some thirty-eight years of age. His quarrels with her seemed to have distressed him very much, and in his weakened condition, her growing disrespect for him caused him to be more devotedly her slave. He seems to have watched with a sort of bibulous admiration her masterly and energetic handling of affairs, and he was anxious to do his best to retain her affection for him, which he could see, was on the wane. To the dauntless heart of a woman like Cleopatra, however, no appeal could be made save by manly strength and powerful determination; and one seems to observe the growth in the Queen’s mind of a kind of horror at the rapid degeneration of the man whom she had loved and trusted.
To make matters worse, there arrived at Athens Antony’s fourteen-year-old son, Antyllus, whom we have already met at Alexandria. He had recently been in Rome, where he had been kindly treated by the dutiful Octavia, whose attitude to all her husband’s children was invariably generous and noble. Antony regarded this boy, it would seem, with great affection, and had caused him to be proclaimed an hereditary prince. The lad became something of a rival to Cæsarion, to whom Cleopatra was devotedly attached; and one may perhaps see in his presence at Athens a further cause for dissension.
At length, however, early in June the Queen persuaded Antony to take the final step, and to divorce Octavia. Having placed the matter before his senators, by whom the question was angrily discussed, he sent messengers to Rome to serve Octavia with the order of ejection from his house; and at the same time he issued a command to the troops still at Ephesus to cross at once to Greece. This was tantamount to a declaration of war, and Cleopatra’s mind must have been extremely relieved thereby. No sooner, however, had this step been taken than many of Antony’s Roman friends appear to have come to him in the greatest alarm, pointing out that the brutal treatment of Octavia, who had won all men’s sympathy by her quiet and dutiful behaviour, would turn from him a great number of his supporters in Italy, and would be received as a clear indication of his subserviency to Cleopatra. They implored him to correct this impression; and Antony, harassed and confused, thereupon made a speech to his Roman legions promising them that within two months of their final victory he would re-establish the republic.
The announcement must have come as a shock to Cleopatra, and must have shown her clearly that Antony was playing a double game. She realised, no doubt, that the promise did not necessitate the abandonment of their designs in regard to the monarchy; for, after establishing the old constitution, Antony would have plenty of time in which to build the foundations of a throne. Yet the declaration unnerved her, and caused her to recognise with more clarity the great divergence between her autocratic sentiments and the democratic principles of the country she was attempting to bring under her sway. She saw that, little by little, the basis upon which the project of the war was founded was being changed. At first the great justification for hostilities had been the ousting of Octavian from the estate belonging by right to her son, Cæsarion. Now the talk was all of liberty, of democracy, and of the restoration of republican institutions.
Her overwrought feelings, however, were somewhat soothed by Antony’s personal behaviour, which at this time was anything but democratic. He was allowing himself to be recognised as a divine personage by the Athenians, and he insisted on the payment of the most royal and celestial honours to Cleopatra, of whom he was at this time inordinately proud. The Queen was, indeed, in these days supreme, and the early authors are all agreed that Antony was to a large extent under her thumb. The Athenians, recognising her as their fellow-Greek, were eager to admit her omnipotence. They caused her statue to be set up in the Acropolis near that already erected to Antony; they hailed her as Aphrodite; they voted her all manner of municipal honours, and, to announce the fact, sent a deputation to her which was headed by Antony in his rôle as a freeman of the city. Octavia, it will be remembered, had resided at Athens some years previously, and had been much liked by the citizens; but the memory of her quiet and pathetic figure was quickly obliterated by the presence of the splendid little Queen of Egypt who sat by Antony’s side at the head of a gathering of kings and princes. Already she seemed to be Queen of the Earth; for, acting as hostess to all these monarchs, speaking to each in his own language, and entertaining them with her brilliant wit, she appeared to be the leading spirit both in their festivities and in their councils.