Much to everyone’s surprise, Octavian had recovered from his illness late in 42 BC. Back in Italy, he threw himself into the grand colonisation programme needed to satisfy the veteran soldiers due for discharge. At the very least there were tens of thousands of these men, even if most legions in these years were greatly under strength. Land was confiscated from an initial list of eighteen towns, but this was not enough, and almost forty communities suffered to a greater or lesser extent. Most senators had enough influence to protect their own property in these regions and so perhaps did the wealthiest local inhabitants. The burden fell more on those of middling income, without powerful friends. By a strange coincidence, three of the greatest poets of the age, Virgil, Horace and Propertius, all saw their family’s land confiscated and given to retired soldiers. It was clearly a traumatic episode for many Italians. The behaviour of the veterans and the commissioners assigning them land rarely helped, and there were accusations that they were taking more than they had been allocated and generally intimidating their new neighbours. On the other hand, the veterans resented the slow pace of the process and were ready to resist any attempt to give them less than they had been promised.1
Antony’s surviving brother Lucius was consul in 41 BC, with Publius Servilius Vatia Isauricus, the man who had been Caesar’s colleague in 48 BC, holding the post for a second time. There was resentment amongst the many dispossessed and wider discontent because the power of Sextus Pompey had grown. He overran Sicily and dominated the sea lanes, preventing much of the supply of grain from reaching Italy. Rome relied on imported food – Sicily was a major supplier – and the triumvirate was blamed for the shortages. Octavian was in charge of the colonisation and he was also there in Italy. The resentment focused on him, for Antony was away in the east and Lepidus was already acknowledged as the least of the three.
Lucius Antonius sensed an opportunity to gain from this festering discontent. He was a Roman senator, determined to rise to the very top, winning glory, reputation, power and wealth. It is a mistake to see him simply as Antony’s agent. His brother may have indicated general support, but did not order his actions in this year – indeed, the slow pace of communications would have made this impractical. Fulvia was initially reluctant, but eventually encouraged her brother-in-law, sending her children to Lucius for him to show to Antony’s veterans and raise support. Yet it was difficult for the soldiers to sympathise with those dispossessed by the colonisation process. Clearly, Fulvia felt that she was acting for Antony’s good by turning against Octavian. The latter’s verse suggests that she was jealous of Glaphyra and others claim that she hoped also to win her husband back from Cleopatra. As so often in these years, strong personal emotion mingled with political ambition.
The result was a confusing period of unrest and civil war, in which allegiances were often unclear. Lucius seized Rome, but could not hold it. He raised an army and ended up being blockaded by Octavian in the town of Perusia (modern-day Perugia). Lead sling bullets survive from the siege, some simply proclaiming allegiance to one of the leaders, but others with slogans jibing at Lucius’ baldness or targeting Fulvia’s sexual organs. Asinius Pollio, Plancus and Ventidius Bassus were all in Italy with their legions and were seen as Antony’s men, commanding legions loyal to him. However, the three generals could not agree on what to do and bickered with each other. They postured and demonstrated, but stopped short of practical aid. Clearly, they had no instructions and this, combined with their own sense of what was good for their personal ambitions, stopped them from intervening. Without help, Lucius surrendered early in 40 BC.2
The consul was spared, and so were his soldiers, but there may have been some executions and Perusia was plundered and burned. Lucius was soon despatched to govern Spain. Fulvia fled from Italy, in search of her husband. Antony’s mother Julia also decided to leave Rome, but chose a circuitous route to reach her son. She went first to Sextus Pompey, who welcomed her and then sent her with an escort to Antony, with an offer of alliance against Octavian. It seemed that Perusia was only the first campaign of a new civil war, pitting one triumvir against another.
Octavian was also trying to conciliate Sextus. He had divorced Fulvia’s daughter, claiming that the marriage had never been consummated. If true, then it suggests that he had been cautious about the alliance from the start, although it may simply have been that she was exceptionally young, even by the standards of Roman brides. Instead, he married Scribonia, sister of Sextus’ father-in-law and one of his leading supporters. Pompey’s son does not seem to have viewed the young Caesar any more warmly as a result.3
ANEWDEAL
None of our sources accuses Antony of provoking the conflict (which is known as the Perusine War). At most they claim that he failed to restrain Fulvia and Lucius. Some of this was clearly intended to emphasise his inability to control his own wife. Realistically, he was too far away to play a direct role in the rapidly changing situation in Italy. It is also worth saying that Antony rarely deliberately initiated a confrontation at any stage in his life. He was ambitious, seeking power and then revelling in it. After the Ides of March he reacted to the assassination and gradually turned opinion against the conspirators, but even then did not himself provoke an open conflict with them. Throughout he seems to have been content to let them continue in public life, as long as this did not conflict with his acquisition of power, patronage and wealth. Similarly, in the following months, as Cicero and others increased the pressure upon him, Antony responded angrily, but was not fully prepared for war when it came. In part, this was because he underestimated his opponents, both the senators and the young Caesar, but it also seems to reflect his nature. There is little trace of long-term strategy at any stage in his life, beyond a general desire to rise to the top. Lucius played a strong part, but on balance it does seem that the sources are right to see Fulvia as the main force behind the opposition to Octavian.
Antony had not wanted a confrontation with Octavian, although no doubt he would happily have profited from the new situation if his wife and brother had won. This did not mean that he could pretend the conflict had not happened. Antony left Alexandria and went to Syria, but in spite of a Parthian invasion, he hurried from there to Athens, where he met Julia and Fulvia. He thanked Sextus Pompey’s envoys for bringing his mother, but sent their master a cautious reply. If war did break out with Octavian, then he would treat Sextus as an ally. If it did not, then the agreement to form the triumvirate held and so all he could do was encourage his colleagues to negotiate with Sextus.4
He seems to have received Fulvia coldly, which made it easier to absolve himself of responsibility for the Perusine War. She may already have been ill and was said to be heartbroken. Fulvia died later in the year, after Antony had left Athens. Lucius Antonius also succumbed to illness soon after taking up his post as proconsul in Spain. There is no hint of foul play in either case. In many ways more damaging for Antony was the death of Calenus, the governor of Gaul, in the summer of 40 BC. Octavian went in person and took over the province without a struggle, taking command of its eleven legions. The balance of power was shifting, making the outcome of the impending civil war very hard to predict.5
Antony returned to Italy. He did not go alone, but led a fleet of 200 warships. There were few if any transport ships and he had only a small army. En route he was joined by more ships and soldiers led by Cnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, the most important Republican leader to continue the struggle after Philippi. Asinius Pollio had already arranged the reconciliation, so that Antony was calm as the other fleet approached and duly saluted him as general. The added strength was welcome and Ahenobarbus had the prestige of a distinguished family, but the new allies proved a liability when the combined fleet arrived at Brundisium. In the past, Ahenobarbus had often attacked the port. The garrison refused to admit this known enemy and treated Antony in the same way.6
The triumvir responded angrily, landing near by and besieging the city. A new civil war seemed to be beginning. Octavian gathered his forces and marched south, setting up his own blockade around Antony’s forces. There was some skirmishing. Antony took 500 cavalry on a raid, which caught three times that number of enemy horsemen by surprise and overwhelmed them. Octavian raised levies from amongst the veteran colonies, but when the men heard that they were to fight Antony, most of them turned around and went home. It was not so much a sign of enthusiasm for – or even fear of – Antony, but a feeling that there was simply no good reason to fight a civil war. This mood was general amongst Caesar’s old officers and soldiers on both sides. They fraternised and soon felt confident enough to make their feelings known to their commanders.
Their armies did not want a war, and it is unlikely that Antony and Octavian were themselves enthusiastic, for neither had much to gain. There was still too much to be done for one of them to feel confident that he could control the empire at present. If Antony destroyed Octavian, then there was no assurance that Sextus Pompey, or whoever emerged as the dominant leader in the west, would be any less of a threat in the future. Neither side was properly prepared for war, which made the outcome even less certain. Fighting would have been a dangerous gamble for both Antony and Octavian, and it was only the fear that the other one was determined to fight that made the prospect at all acceptable to either of them. In the past, mutual suspicion and fear had fostered more than one civil war. This time, the reluctance of the rival armies forced their leaders to hold back. Serious fighting did not occur and that made it easier for Antony and Octavian to negotiate.
The talks were conducted by Asinius Pollio for Antony and a young equestrian named Caius Maecenas for Octavian, with the senior officer Lucius Cocceius Nerva, who had the confidence of the troops, as a neutral. No one was there to represent Lepidus, reflecting the continuing decline in his importance. Maecenas was one of Octavian’s earliest supporters and closest friends, and over the years proved himself a wily political operator, as well as later a patron of poets like Virgil and Horace. By September 40 BC, these three had put together what is known as the Treaty of Brundisium.
Antony and Octavian split the empire between them, leaving Lepidus with only Africa. Octavian kept Gaul, so that he now effectively controlled all of the western provinces, while Antony held the east. The boundary between the two was set at Scodra in Illyria. Antony seems to have been formally charged with the war against Parthia, while Octavian was to regain Sicily and the other islands occupied by Sextus Pompey, unless the latter proved willing to negotiate a peace. This was the only concession to Sextus and he clearly felt cheated. Ahenobarbus did better, receiving a pardon. He had been condemned along with Caesar’s assassins, although it seems that he was not actually part of the conspiracy. A few others were pardoned, and Antony and Octavian each executed one of their more prominent followers. Antony killed a somewhat shadowy agent of his named Manius, because he had encouraged Lucius and Fulvia to rebel. He is also said to have told Octavian that one of his generals had offered to defect to him. The man was summoned on a pretext and then killed, the triumvirs getting the Senate to pass its ultimate decree to give a veneer of legality to the death.7
Concordia (concord) was proclaimed and soon being celebrated throughout Italy. Whatever their attitude to the triumvirate, the fear of fresh civil war was deeply felt and the relief genuine. As so often, a marriage alliance confirmed a political bargain. Fulvia had died –Antony is said to have felt guilty about his coolness towards her in Athens, but in all respects this was remarkably convenient. Octavian’s older sister Octavia had recently been widowed, when her husband Marcellus, the consul of 50 BC, died. She was about thirty. Roman law stipulated that ten months should pass between the death of one husband and the taking of another, since this would make clear the paternity of any child. Antony and Octavian had the Senate pass a special decree exempting Octavia from this and the wedding was celebrated almost immediately.
Antony and Octavian had coins minted showing the face of the other. Antony also issued a series with Octavia on the reverse, making her the first Roman woman to appear on coinage. Another of Octavian’s coins showed clasped hands as a further sign of the new concord. The poet Virgil wrote of a new golden age, to be ushered in by the birth of a boy – clearly a hoped for child of Antony and Octavia. In the event, she actually bore him the first of two daughters, but by that time the mood had already become less optimistic.8
Antony and Octavian each celebrated an ovation when they went to Rome late in the year. It was a lesser ceremony than a triumph, but still impressive, although it was not quite clear what victories were being commemorated. Much like the honours to Caesar, it marked the triumvirs out as greater than normal magistrates. The crowds may well have cheered the processions. Yet the population was far less enthusiastic when more extraordinary taxes were announced. To make matters worse, Sextus Pompey refused to be ignored and was effectively blockading the major sea lanes to Italy. Food was short and prices high. People did not blame Sextus but the triumvirs for not coming to terms with him. Octavian was threatened by a mob when he appeared in the Forum with very few bodyguards. Missiles were thrown and he was injured.
Antony brought a small force of soldiers along the Via Sacra to help his colleague. Perceived as more favourable to a peace with Sextus, no stones were thrown, but a determined crowd blocked the path. When he tried to force his way through, they began to lob missiles at him. Antony retreated, gathered more soldiers and then attacked the Forum from two directions. He and his men cut their way to Octavian and his party and managed to bring them out. Corpses were dumped in the river to conceal the number of deaths. In the end the crowd dispersed, but it was clear that their resentment was only held in check by the naked force of the triumvirs.9
It was now clear that they needed to deal with Sextus and since they did not have the naval power to defeat him, negotiation was the only option. Approaches were made through relatives, including Sextus’ mother. There were preliminary talks in the spring of 39 BC off the resort city of Baiae and for the first time Pompey’s son met Caesar’s son and his ally Antony. The rival sides stood on specially prepared platforms sunk into the beach within comfortable earshot, but offering security from sudden attack. It was not enough to overcome mutual suspicion and the talks broke down. Finally, off Misenum in the late summer a second meeting was held and an agreement reached.
Sextus Pompey was in his late twenties and had never been enrolled in the Senate, even before he had been outlawed in 43 BC along with the conspirators and other enemies of the triumvirate. Now he was named as governor of Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica – all of which he anyway controlled – and also the Peloponnese in Greece, which he did not. Sextus joined Antony in the college of augurs, and was nominated for a consulship in 33 BC. (He would still have been too young for the office, but such breaches of the old laws no longer caused much comment.) In return, he agreed to end his naval blockade. Much to his credit, Sextus also insisted on restoring rights to the proscribed and other exiles, allowing them to return and take back at least a quarter of their property. Only the few surviving conspirators were excluded from this pardon. The proscriptions were to be ended. Runaway slaves who had served in his fleet were granted their freedom.
The Peace of Misenum for a while brought to a halt the civil wars that had split the Roman Republic since 44 BC – indeed, virtually since Caesar crossed the Rubicon in January 49 BC. There was genuine celebration when the news spread, especially when trade began to flow more normally and the food shortages in Rome and elsewhere came to an end. The immediate celebrations involving the leaders on each side seem to have begun rather nervously and it was rumoured that most of those attending the great banquet to mark the event carried concealed daggers. When Antony and Octavian both dined on board Sextus’ flagship, one of his admirals is supposed to have suggested cutting the cable and disposing of them, seizing power in one fell swoop. The response became famous, for Sextus said that he could not break faith in this way and wished that the man had simply acted without seeking his permission. From the beginning, the truce was uneasy.10
ATHENS
Having spent almost a year in Italy, Antony set out again for the east, taking Octavia with him. It was perhaps a sign of affection, for although the marriage was one of political convenience, at least at the beginning it seems to have been reasonably happy. Antony readily responded to affection, and his new wife was both attractive and intelligent. It was widely believed that he had fallen in love with her, yet there was probably more to it than this. Roman provincial governors did not take their wives out to their provinces. Even during civil wars, this was extremely unusual and Pompey the Great’s wife Cornelia was a rare exception. There was no threat to Octavia if she remained in Italy – as Fulvia had done in 44 BC, and Brutus’ and Cassius’ wives throughout the civil war. She was indeed the clearest symbol of the renewed alliance between her brother and husband. The most likely reason for her accompanying Antony was that all concerned felt it was a good idea to keep this symbol with him as reminder of the new, closer bond with Octavian.
The couple spent the winter together in Athens. Octavia was well educated, but Roman women got few opportunities to travel abroad and this was probably her first visit to the famous city. Their daughter, Antonia the elder, was born before they arrived and Antony made a show of laying aside many of his formal duties for the quiet life of a private citizen. His attendants were reduced to a minimum, and once again he dressed in Greek fashion and attended lectures and exercised in the gymnasium. With his wife he dined in the local manner and took part in the cycle of religious festivals, which involved sacrifices and other rituals as well as sumptuous feasting. One Stoic philosopher dedicated a book to Octavia. Antony accepted the civic office of gymnasiarch, dressing up in the white shoes and robe and carrying the staff of office. It was an annual post tasked with overseeing the lives and education of the ephebes, the youths training in the gymnasium.
The Athenians played along with the charade, just as the Alexandrians had pretended not to recognise the Roman general and their own queen when they dressed as slaves. Yet the Panathenaic festival games were named Antonian in his honour. At the same time they proclaimed Antony as the ‘New God Dionysus’, and he and Octavia as the ‘Beneficent Gods’. There seems to have been some form of sacred alliance or marriage between the New Dionysus and the city’s own goddess, Athena. Antony accepted this as an honour, but also insisted on a substantial sum of money from the city as dowry for his new bride.11
In spite of this and other levies, Antony was once again popular with a Greek audience, especially the Athenians. The Romans taxed them anyway, and at least he showed respect to their culture. The honours were not unprecedented – Caesar had also allowed himself to become gymnasiarch – and were part of a wider promotion of his status. Appian claims that he received few delegations over the winter months, although he accepted and responded to letters. Although the triumvirs often presented their actions as constitutional, and referred their decisions to the Senate for approval, the provincial and allied communities were fully aware that real power lay with Octavian and Antony. Cities approached them directly for favours. The city of Aphrodisias set up a series of long inscriptions on the wall of its theatre recording decisions made by the triumvirs and stated baldly that:
Whatever rewards, honours, and privileges Caius Caesar or Mark Antony, triumvirs to restore the state, have given or shall give, have allotted or shall allot, have conceded or shall concede by their own decree to the people of Plarasa or Aphrodisias, all these should be deemed as having come justly and regularly.12
It was clear that the Senate would not challenge any decision of the triumvirs. Aphrodisias was in Asia Minor, and thus clearly within the provinces allocated to Antony, and it is interesting that they felt free to approach Octavian independently, and that he was willing and able to make decisions in response. Other communities appear to have acted in the same way. There is much less evidence for civic life in the western provinces – in part, because this was less developed in many areas – but it seems more than likely that some of these went to Antony rather than Octavian for favours and rulings. On the other hand, perhaps there were simply more problems needing attention in the east, for the recent Parthian invasion had spread disorder over a wide area.
At the end of the winter, Antony resumed the full pomp and ceremony of his rank as triumvir, donned the uniform of a Roman magistrate and general, and made it clear that he was available to receive petitioners.