At length one of his ships, putting into the little port, seems to have brought him the news of events at Actium. After his flight the battered remnant of his fleet, having continued the fight until sunset, sailed back into the Gulf of Ambracia; and next day Octavian invited them and the army to surrender on easy terms. No one, however, would believe that Antony had fled, and the offer was refused. Next day, however, some of the vassal kings laid down their arms, and, after a week of suspense, Canidius fled. Part of the legions scattered into Macedonia, and on September 9th the remainder surrendered together with the fleet. Octavian then sailed round to Athens, and there received the submission of every city in Greece, with the exception of Corinth. He at once began a general massacre of Antony’s adherents, and, to save their skins, the townspeople in every district heaped honours upon the conqueror, erecting statues to him and decreeing him all manner of civic distinctions. Shortly after this a messenger reached Antony from the west stating that the legions left in North Africa had also gone over to Octavian; and thereupon he attempted to commit suicide. He was, however, restrained by his two faithful friends; and in the deepest dejection he was at last persuaded by them to sail for Alexandria, once more to comfort himself with the presence of Cleopatra.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CLEOPATRA’S ATTEMPT TO BEGIN AGAIN.
Crushed and broken by her misfortunes, it might have been expected that Cleopatra would now give up the fight. She was not made, however, of ordinary stuff; and she could not yet bring herself to believe that her cause was hopeless. On her voyage across the Mediterranean she seems to have pulled herself together after the first shock of defeat; and, with that wonderful recuperative power, of which we have already seen many instances in her life, she appears, so to speak, to have regained her feet, standing up once more, eager and defiant, to face the world. The defeat of Antony, though it postponed for many years all chance of obtaining a footing in Rome, did not altogether preclude that possibility. He would now probably kill himself, and though the thought of his suicide must have been very distressing to her, she could but feel that she would be well rid of him. A drunken and discredited outlaw with a price upon his head was not a desirable consort for a Queen; and he had long since ceased to make an appeal to any quality in her, save to her pity. Octavian would hunt him down, and would not rest until he had driven him to the land of the shades; but she herself might possibly be spared and her throne be saved in recognition of the fact that she had been the great Dictator’s “wife.” Then, some chance occurrence, such as the death of Octavian, might give her son Cæsarion the opportunity of putting himself forward once more as Cæsar’s heir.
Antony was now a terrible encumbrance. His presence with her endangered her own life, and, what was more important, imperilled the existence of her royal dynasty. Had he not the courage, like defeated Cato at Utica, like her uncle Ptolemy of Cyprus, like Brutus after Philippi, and like hundreds of others, to kill himself and so end his misfortunes? It is to be remembered that suicide after disaster was a doctrine emphatically preached throughout the civilised world at this time, and so frequently was it practised that it was felt to be far less terrible than we are now accustomed to think it. The popular spectacle of gladiatorial fights, the many wars conducted in recent years, and the numerous political murders and massacres, had made people very familiar with violent death. The case of Arria, the wife of Pætus, is an illustration of the light manner in which the termination of life was regarded. Her husband having been condemned to death, Arria determined to anticipate the executioner; and therefore, having driven a dagger into her breast, she coolly handed the weapon to him, with the casual words, Paete non dole, “It isn’t painful.”[120] I do not think, therefore, that Cleopatra need be blamed if she now hoped that Antony would make his exit from the stage of life.
Her fertile brain turned to the consideration of other means of holding her throne should Octavian’s clemency not be extended to her. Her dominant hope was now the keeping of Egypt independent of Rome. The founding of an Egypto-Roman empire having been indefinitely postponed by the defeat at Actium, her whole energies would have to be given to the retention of some sort of crown for her son. The dominions which Antony had given her she could hardly expect to hold: but for Egypt, her birthright, she must fight while breath remained in her body. Under this inspiration her thoughts turned to the Orient, to Media, Persia, Parthia, and India. Was there not some means of forming an alliance with one or all of these distant countries, thereby strengthening her position? Her son Alexander Helios was prospective King of Media. Could not she find in Persia or India an extension of the dominions which she could hand on to Cæsarion? And could not some great amalgamation of these nations, which had never been conquered by Rome, be effected?
I imagine that her thoughts ran in these channels as she sailed over the sea; but when she had dropped Antony at Parætonium and was heading for Alexandria the more immediate question of her entry into the capital must have filled her mind. It was essential to prevent the news of the defeat from being spread in the capital until after she had once more obtained control of affairs. She therefore seems to have arranged to sail into the harbour some days before the arrival of the fleet, and she caused her flagship to be decorated as though in celebration of a victory. Her arrival took place at about the end of September B.C. 31; and, with music playing, sailors dancing, and pennants flying, the ship passed under the shadow of the white Pharos and entered the Great Harbour. Having moored the vessel at the steps of the Palace, Cleopatra was carried ashore in royal state, and was soon safely ensconced behind the walls of the Lochias. She brought, no doubt, written orders from Antony to the legions stationed in Alexandria; and, relying on the loyalty of these troops, she soon took the sternest measures to prevent any revolt or rioting in the city as the news of the disaster began to filter through. Several prominent citizens who attempted to stir up trouble were promptly arrested and put to death; and by the time that full confirmation of the news of the defeat had arrived, Cleopatra was in absolute control of the situation.
British Museum.]