XII
They say her beauty was not so astonishing—those who saw her were certainly not swept away—but when you were in her presence and talked with her, she was irresistible.
—PLUTARCH
Alexander the Great arrived in Egypt in the winter of 332 B.C., having defeated the Persian army in Syria and destroyed the cities of Tyre and Gaza. The Egyptians had watched these events closely and put up no resistance when the Macedonian general appeared on the banks of the Nile. Alexander was an inspired military leader, but he also dreamed of spreading Greek civilization to the lands of the East. So on a narrow spit of coastal land at the western edge of the Nile delta, he personally laid out a new city he hoped would become a shining example of Hellenic culture. The city he built—modestly named Alexandria—succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. The new town quickly grew into the commercial and intellectual capital of the eastern Mediterranean. Trade goods flowed into the city from Arabia, east Africa, and India. Immigrants arrived from the Mediterranean and beyond, including so many settlers from Palestine that Alexandria soon had the largest Jewish population of any city in the world. The ruling descendants of Alexander’s general Ptolemy, who took control of Egypt after the conqueror died, lavished their new capital with palaces, monuments, baths, and temples.
From the first Ptolemy to the twelfth, an unbroken line of Macedonian kings sat on the ancient throne of pharaoh and ruled over Egypt from Alexandria. They issued decrees and collected taxes from the natives, but made no effort to become part of Egyptian civilization. They mixed only with other Greeks, leaving Alexandria on rare occasions for pleasure cruises along the Nile or to wage war abroad. The Alexandrians themselves were an unruly sort who had no love for the extravagant Ptolemies, bestowing on them nicknames such as Fat Boy and the Bastard.
By the time of Cleopatra’s father, Ptolemy Auletes, Rome had become an overwhelming presence in the eastern Mediterranean. But through diplomacy, treachery, assassinations, and an endless supply of gold, Auletes managed to maintain Egypt’s independence in spite of repeated exile from his capital. In 58 B.C., Caesar as consul had restored Auletes to the throne thanks to an enormous bribe that he and Pompey were to share. To make sure of his cut, Pompey sent Aulus Gabinus, the Roman governor of Syria, to collect the payment while Caesar was still in Gaul. In Alexandria that year, a young cavalry commander on Gabinus’s staff named Mark Antony probably met Auletes’ fourteen-year-old daughter Cleopatra.
The money Gabinus squeezed from the land was not enough to cover debts owed to Rome or pay his army. Soon many of his soldiers went native and married the local Egyptian women, abandoning any thought of returning home. They were joined by ruffians, exiles, and runaways from every land to form a mercenary band that alternately protected and plundered Egypt. It’s likely that these former Roman legionaries were the very men Pompey had hoped to recruit for his new army.
In 51 B.C., Auletes died and left the throne to the teenaged Cleopatra and his even younger son, Ptolemy XIII, as joint rulers. By Egyptian custom, sister and brother ruled together not only as monarchs but as husband and wife. Sometimes in Ptolemaic history the sibling king and queen worked well together, but in Cleopatra’s case there was bad blood from the start as her brother was controlled by powerful advisors who resented her interference. The new queen of Egypt had firm ideas on the proper way to rule her father’s kingdom that did not include the eunuch Pothinus or general Achillas. From the start she surprised everyone by working to integrate herself with the native Egyptians and their priests. She was the first Ptolemy to actually learn the Egyptian language (along with Hebrew, Ethiopian, and several other tongues). A stone monument carved with hieroglyphs, now in Copenhagen, records that she even participated in a sacred bull ceremony near Thebes at the start of her reign, escorting the divine animal to the temple by boat. Such concessions to native sentiments must have impressed Egyptians accustomed to neglect, at best, from their Ptolemaic rulers for the last two centuries.
But support from native Egyptians was not enough to rescue Cleopatra from the eternally disgruntled Alexandrians. While Caesar’s old nemesis Bibulus was still alive and governing Syria, he sent his two sons to collect the renegade Gabinian legionaries for a planned attack on the Parthians—but the soldiers murdered them both rather than leave the delights of Egypt. Young Cleopatra boldly arrested the assailants and sent them to Bibulus for punishment, much to the displeasure of the Alexandrians, who felt she was succumbing to Roman pressure. This affair, along with crop failures and the scheming of her brother’s advisors, soon forced Cleopatra to flee her capital and recruit her own army. The adolescent Ptolemy XIII now ruled from Alexandria alone, watched over diligently by Pothinus and Achillas.
Caesar arrived in Alexandria at the beginning of October 48 B.C. accompanied only by one undersized legion and eight hundred cavalry. When Pompey’s head was brought to him, he recoiled in horror and bitter disappointment. This was not the end he had wished for his most gifted enemy. Caesar had hoped to pardon Pompey and perhaps reestablish their partnership—though with Pompey in a decidedly secondary role—but now all he could do was weep as he received his former son-in-law’s signet ring with the image of a lion bearing a sword. He asked about Pompey’s body, only to discover that it had been thrown into the harbor after his decapitation. A servant of Pompey’s named Philip had managed to rescue the corpse and cremate it on shore using wood from an old fishing boat. Caesar then found the rest of Pompey’s party that were still alive and made sure they were treated well. The head of Pompey was eventually presented to his widow with all honors and taken back to Rome for burial at their villa.
The Egyptians had sought to win Caesar’s favor by the murder of Pompey, but Pothinus and Achillas had achieved just the opposite. Caesar now scorned the rulers of Alexandria who had robbed him of his magnanimous victory over Pompey. He might have returned to Rome immediately, but there was the matter of money. To help finance his war against the remaining Pompeians, Caesar demanded the rest of the funds promised by Auletes years before—ten million denarii, the equivalent of a generous annual salary for almost fifty thousand soldiers. Pothinus was indignant, but swore he would send the money to him in Italy. Caesar, instead, decided to stay put in Egypt until he had the cash in hand, claiming the winds were unfavorable for a voyage to Italy. Extortion was foremost on Caesar’s mind, but he had legitimate political reasons to remain in Alexandria. The ongoing civil war in Egypt meant dangerous instability that his remaining enemies might use to their own advantage. It was imperative that he not leave a country as important as Egypt in chaos, no matter how pressing his affairs in Rome.
The Alexandrians had nothing but contempt for Caesar and his soldiers, showering them with abuse from the moment they set foot on the docks. The citizens of the city were proud of their independence from Rome and saw Caesar’s presence as an imminent threat to their sovereignty. When he landed on shore, they erupted in violent protests as the fasces—the symbol of Roman power—were carried before him. Several of Caesar’s men were killed in the riots that followed throughout the city. But much to the consternation of the Alexandrians, Caesar settled inside the protected walls of the royal palace to await the promised money and bring peace to the warring factions of the land.
Unlike Rome with its narrow alleys and crooked backstreets, Alexandria was laid out in a neat grid pattern of wide thoroughfares and checkerboard neighborhoods. The city stretched for several miles between the Mediterranean coast to the north and brackish Lake Mareotis to the south, while a canal over twenty miles long brought fresh water from the Nile inside the city walls. The royal precinct housing Caesar faced the harbor along the eastern side of the city next to the Jewish quarter with its magnificent synagogue. In the royal quarter were the Ptolemaic palace as well as the celebrated tomb of Alexander the Great, along with the fabulous Alexandrian museum and library. The library had declined in recent years, but once had held almost half a million precious scrolls. The museum, however, was still home to the greatest scholars of the age. It was not a museum in the modern sense of the word, but a research and study center for scientists and writers. Lectures were held for students and visitors during the day in an impressive lecture hall, while the evenings were filled with dinners and drinking parties brimming with learned conversation and biting wit.
Most of the million or so residents of Alexandria lived to the west of the royal quarter along the many residential and commercial streets between the Serapeum and the harbor. The hilltop Serapeum was an international center of pilgrimage dedicated to the native Egyptian god Osiris, though with a large measure of Greek influence. Those seeking healing or advice from the god made their way to the immense temple complex, well-financed by the Ptolemies. Pharos Island lay off the coast almost a mile north of the city but was connected to Alexandria by a causeway that divided the harbor into two parts. The fabled Pharos lighthouse—one of the seven wonders of the ancient world—stood over 300 feet tall just beyond the eastern edge of the island, its beacon fire beckoning ships from the whole Mediterranean world.
From his window in the royal palace, Caesar could look out on the lighthouse and the sea beyond. He could also see the streets of Alexandria teeming with angry Greeks eager to kill any Roman soldier they could find. The eunuch Pothinus did everything he could to stir the anger of the Alexandrian mob. He also plotted to murder Caesar before the Roman ruler could force an accord between the royal siblings, thereby ending his own role as the power behind the throne.
Caesar, as guarantor of their father’s will, decided to put a quick end to the Egyptian civil war by ordering both young Ptolemy and his sister Cleopatra immediately to disband their armies and attend him at the palace to settle their differences. Pothinus fumed, but sent Ptolemy to Caesar, all the while plotting with the general Achillas to secretly move the royal army from the Nile delta to Alexandria.
Cleopatra meanwhile was prevented by her brother’s army and ships from reaching Caesar at the palace—so she devised a plan to gain entry that has become legend. As Plutarch tells the story, Cleopatra journeyed to the royal quarter of Alexandria by night in a small boat easily overlooked among the many trade vessels in the harbor. She traveled alone except for a single attendant, a Sicilian merchant named Apollodorus. When they arrived at the dock, Cleopatra knew she would quickly attract unwanted attention so she stretched herself out in an old linen sack used by slaves to carry bedclothes. Apollodorus then rolled her up, tied the ends of the sack, and carried the queen of Egypt into the royal palace disguised as dirty laundry.
Caesar could not believe his eyes when Cleopatra emerged from the sack before him. She had quite cleverly chosen a method of entry that would not only get her past hostile guards and enemy agents, but make a profound impression on Caesar. The boy from the slums of Rome who had fought his way to the top of the political ladder through boldness and cunning was immediately taken by the daring young queen. Like most Romans, he believed the Alexandrian royalty to be cowardly prima donnas who maintained their rule only through intrigue, backstabbing, and bribery. But in Cleopatra, with her obvious courage and intelligence, he saw a resourceful monarch with whom he might work to secure Egypt for himself and bring an end to civil war on the Nile.
Caesar was also personally captivated by the twenty-one-year-old queen. Later sources would have us believe their famous affair began that very night, but it is impossible to know just when Caesar first shared Cleopatra’s bed. Caesar himself never mentions a physical relationship with the young monarch, implying that their contacts were purely professional. Contemporary sources loyal to Caesar follow his lead and speak of Cleopatra only as a factional leader in the Egyptian civil war. But enough ancient authors mention the romance to make us sure that it did indeed happen. Modern readers must wonder why a fifty-two-year-old general from the Roman aristocracy would involve himself with a foreign queen half his age when Rome traditionally looked at eastern women as treacherous partners in love. Some would say the question answers itself. Although now middle-aged, Caesar was a notorious womanizer who saw young Cleopatra as another in a long line of conquests. But others would point out that Caesar was anything but a fool. If he were simply looking for an exotic fling, there were ample women, slave and free, available to him. No matter how active Caesar’s libido might be, he would never have been so imprudent as to involve himself with Cleopatra unless it suited his overriding political aims. In this case, his goal would have been to cement the loyalty of the Ptolemaic kingdom to himself and thereby secure control of Egypt’s resources. With Cleopatra on his side he could be sure that the fertile lands of the Nile would maintain their fealty to Rome—and to him personally.
But what did Cleopatra have to gain by making Caesar her lover? In this case the answer is simpler—absolutely everything. Her brother and his advisors controlled a more powerful army as well as the loyalty, for the moment at least, of the Roman-hating Alexandrians. Without powerful support from outside her realm, Cleopatra was doomed to failure in her bid to regain the throne. The best she could hope for without Caesar was a futile war, perhaps ending her life as a pathetic exile in some foreign court. But with Caesar’s support she gained the military might of the whole Roman empire. We don’t know if Cleopatra’s feelings for Caesar were genuine or feigned—she probably would have found the question irrelevant—but Caesar’s affection guaranteed the throne. If by some chance she were to bear Caesar a son, she might even hope the boy could join together Egypt and Rome just as Alexander had united Greece and the ancient lands of the East.
Whatever the history and motives of their love affair, Caesar was so taken by Cleopatra that he immediately sent for her brother in an attempt to reconcile them that same night. Ptolemy was stunned to see Cleopatra in his own palace seated beside Caesar. He was even more amazed when he realized that Caesar had taken Cleopatra’s side in the dispute. Screaming betrayal at the hands of Rome, the young man rushed outside into the crowd gathering early that morning, threw his crown from his head, and collapsed in tears. The Alexandrians knew Ptolemy was a spoiled child and puppet of his advisors, but they resented one of their own being humiliated by a Roman consul. The crowd rose in anger and soon threatened to take the palace by force. Caesar quickly appeared before them and assured them his intentions were honorable—he merely wanted to carry out the wishes of their previous king Ptolemy Auletes and bring peace to their troubled land. He called together the Alexandrian assembly and urged them to restore young Ptolemy and Cleopatra to joint rule. As leader of Rome, he even sweetened the deal by promising to restore Egyptian rule to the island of Cyprus, annexed to Rome by Cato years earlier.
Several days passed as Caesar worked to calm the Alexandrians and reconcile the factions at court. Just when he thought he might be making progress he received word that Achillas had suddenly arrived on the edge of the city with 20,000 veteran soldiers, more than five times the size of Caesar’s forces. The Egyptian navy was threatening his ships in the harbor, while the people of Alexandria were attacking his troops on all sides. Caesar sent messengers, including an adopted son of Mithridates on his staff, to Syria and Asia Minor calling for more troops, but any relief force was weeks away at best. Caesar seized young Ptolemy before he could flee from the palace and detained him. He seized and executed the eunuch Pothinus, mastermind of the anti-Roman movement. But Caesar and his vastly outnumbered troops were now trapped inside a hostile city of a million raging Greeks out for Roman blood. One of the most vicious campaigns of urban warfare in the history of the ancient world was about to begin.
Caesar occupied the palace grounds and a marshy area to the south with several thousand infantry troops as well a few hundred cavalry. He also controlled the docks of the royal quarter and a small fleet of ships in the harbor nearby. But Achillas now threw his army against Caesar’s stronghold with all his might, while the Alexandrians outside the combat zone flocked in to attack the Romans as well. Caesar beat back the initial assault on the palace, but soon realized he was in a kind of war very different than he had ever faced before. He had besieged and conquered many cities during his career, but he had never been on the defensive in an urban environment. Alexandria was so tightly packed that there was no room for traditional battlefield movements and certainly not enough space to deploy his cavalry in any useful fashion. The fighting was waged house by house, day and night, with ground gained or lost measured in feet rather than miles. To add to his troubles, Caesar was fast running out of supplies and had only limited access to fresh water.
Caesar ordered his troops to build fortifications, covered entrenchments, and towers around the palace quarter. To gain ground along the heavily defended city blocks, the Roman troops employed a surprisingly modern technique of urban warfare. Instead of assaulting a house through the well-guarded doors, they used battering rams to break through the walls from connecting homes. Roman troops would then pour into the gap, kill the defenders, and repeat the procedure to take the next house. Caesar also demolished countless buildings to create a deadly no-man’s-land around his perimeter. He could only be thankful that, unlike the cities of Gaul built with wood and thatch, the Alexandrian homes he occupied were virtually fireproof with their mud brick walls and tile roofs.
None of Caesar’s actions intimidated the Alexandrians in the least. Messengers went out to all the towns of Egypt to come and join in the war against the hated Romans. Thousands flocked into the city carrying armloads of weapons and dragging artillery pieces behind them. Workshops for making spears, swords, and other armaments sprang up overnight throughout Alexandria. Wealthy masters even armed trusted slaves and donated their services to guard strategic points in the city, freeing the professional soldiers to move along the lines as needed. The townspeople built stone barricades up to forty feet high across streets, adding lofty towers to rain down missiles on the Romans when the nearby buildings were too low. The citizens also constructed mobile towers drawn by oxen to reinforce any neighborhood the legionaries threatened.
The Alexandrians relentlessly attacked the Roman lines at the same time they defended their own fortifications. Being quite clever, as even the Romans grudgingly acknowledged, they expertly reproduced any weapon or technique used successfully by their adversaries. But even while the battle was raging, the citizens of the city continued to argue techniques and strategy in public meetings. One thing they all agreed on, however, was the absolute necessity of defeating the enemy:
The Romans have been nibbling away at our sovereignty for years. First Aulus Gabinius came with his legions, then Pompey arrived followed by Caesar and his army—but he hasn’t left even though Pompey is dead. If we fail to drive him out, Egypt will become just another Roman province.
The Alexandrians also knew they had to strike a fatal blow against Caesar before his reinforcements could arrive from across the sea.
At the same time he was assailing the Romans relentlessly on land, Achillas ordered his forces to attack the Roman ships in the harbor. He knew that if he could eliminate the Roman fleet Caesar would be totally cut off from the outside world. With the stakes so high, both sides fought ferociously to gain the advantage. The Romans finally pushed the Alexandrians back, after destroying many of their ships. But realizing he could not defend so many of his own vessels with so few men, Caesar put most of his fleet to the torch to prevent the enemy from capturing them. Burning his transport home was an understandable though drastic step, but his troops apparently acted with such haste that the fire soon spread beyond the ships to the docks, warehouses, and uphill to the great library. Scholars still argue whether or not the fire completely destroyed this treasury of ancient literature, but even if the flames consumed only a fraction of the scrolls, the loss to scholarship remains immeasurable.
Almost immediately after burning the ships, Caesar moved to secure his still-threatened access to the sea by launching an assault on the island of Pharos at the mouth of the harbor. The Romans landed on the eastern end of the island and seized the nearby residential neighborhoods as well as the lighthouse itself. With a garrison on the island controlling the harbor entrance, Roman ships were assured safe passage to and from the royal quarter of the city. Although Caesar doesn’t mention it in his concise narrative, he must have climbed the many steps to the top of the lighthouse to enjoy the magnificent view.
Inside the palace, Caesar was facing more than just military problems. Cleopatra’s young but precocious sister, Arsinoe, escaped confinement along with her capable tutor, a eunuch named Ganymedes, and fled to Achillas. Caesar had intended to make Arsinoe the puppet ruler of Cyprus along with her brother Ptolemy XIV, the youngest of the four siblings, but now she was enthusiastically hailed as queen of Egypt by the Alexandrians. Achillas soon resented the interference of Arsinoe, who, like her sister, was much more intelligent and assertive than her brothers. She quarreled repeatedly with Achillas over the leadership of the Egyptian army. Then, after buying the loyalty of his troops, she had him murdered. After his death, Ganymedes took command of the troops in Arsinoe’s name.
The new leader of the Egyptian army struck at Caesar in a very clever fashion. Alexandria had a sophisticated subterranean conduit system that brought water from the distant Nile directly into the homes of private citizens. The main canal carrying the water from the river passed through the southern part of the city with pipes branching off into every neighborhood. Ganymedes realized that since his forces held the parts of the town near the main canal, he could control the water to Caesar’s entire army. But cutting off the water supply entirely as Caesar had done to Pompey at Dyrrachium was impossible given the complex nature of the conduit system, so Ganymedes instead began pumping seawater into the pipes heading to the palace. At first the legionaries couldn’t understand why their water was suddenly tasting so brackish. Then they realized they were the victims of enemy sabotage.
Caesar’s men could stand weeks of endless battle on little food, but the prospect of dying of thirst threw them into a panic. They rose up and begged Caesar to abandon Egypt at once. Caesar did not respond in anger as he had when mutiny threatened in years past, but instead explained to his men that retreat was both impossible and unnecessary. They could not abandon their defensive positions in the city even for a moment without the Alexandrians seeing what was happening. This was not Gaul with hills and forests to hide an army behind, but a city where the enemy was practically on top of them. The instant they began to pull back the Egyptians would break through the barricades and overwhelm them as they tried to reach the ships. In any event, they were not dependent on Ganymedes for water. The Alexandrians piped in all their water from the Nile because the population was too large to rely on wells—but there was always fresh water for those willing to do a little digging. The Roman soldiers took heart from Caesar’s words and dug enthusiastically through the night. By morning they had struck an abundant vein of sweet water.
The spirits of the Romans were lifted again when a messenger arrived from Caesar’s lieutenant Domitius Calvinus announcing that he was anchored just down the African coast with fresh supplies in a fleet of merchant ships. A strong east wind was all that was holding them back from Alexandria as they had only sails to power them. Caesar was desperate for the supplies Calvinus brought, so he decided to mount a risky rescue operation. He set off from the docks of the royal quarter, but as he could spare no troops from the barricades to serve as marines, his small fleet was manned only by rowers. Caesar sailed west along the coast for a few miles until he found Calvinus, tied the supply ships to his own, and began to tow them back to the city. However, several of Caesar’s men who had gone ashore nearby were captured and revealed to the Egyptians that the Romans had no soldiers on board the ships. When this news was relayed to the Alexandrians, the experienced sailors of the city rushed to pounce on Caesar as he returned.
Caesar had expected just such a trap and held his ships in tight formation when the Alexandrians drew near. One of the remaining Roman ships from the island of Rhodes brazenly steered too close to shore and was set upon by the Egyptians smelling easy prey. Caesar was tempted to leave the Rhodians to the fate they deserved, but seeing how they fought with uncommon bravery, he ordered his fleet into action. Even without soldiers on board, the Romans soon captured one Egyptian ship, sank another, and killed many of the enemy. Towing the relief ships behind, that evening Caesar’s flotilla rowed back into the harbor of Alexandria in triumph.
The Alexandrians were deeply distressed by Caesar’s naval victory. They had lost only a few ships in the battle, but over the course of the last few weeks Caesar’s forces had slowly destroyed most of their fleet. Since they had long prided themselves on their renowned skill as sailors, they began to have serious doubts about the war. If we can’t even beat this Roman at sea, they asked themselves, how can we overcome him on land? Will he use his ships to attack parts of the city we had thought safe? Is Alexandria doomed?
Ganymedes knew that such uncertainty was far more dangerous to the Egyptian cause than any Roman military threat, so he declared to the people that they would build an even bigger and better navy than they had before. We are Alexandrians, he reminded them, trained from childhood to sail the seas. We can construct and outfit a mighty fleet that will cut Caesar off from the world once and for all.
The Alexandrians shouted their approval and threw themselves into the task of building ships. Since the Romans controlled the eastern harbor, they worked in the western part of the city beyond the causeway to Pharos Island. Lacking enough wood, the Alexandrians tore the rafters from public buildings to make oars. They also sent for the customs ships patrolling the Nile and resurrected ancient vessels rotting in the shipyards. The whole town worked with such spirit and energy that in just a few days they had outfitted twenty-seven warships as well as a number of smaller craft. The ships weren’t sturdy enough to survive a distant ocean voyage, but close to shore they were an awesome force.
Caesar watched the construction of the Egyptian fleet and knew a great battle was inevitable. Rather than wait for the Alexandrians to choose the time and place, Caesar gathered ships from Rhodes and Asia Minor, manned them with Roman soldiers, and sailed out of the harbor and westward to the far side of Pharos Island. There his outnumbered ships drew up facing the Egyptian fleet and dared them to attack. The Alexandrians also prepared for battle, putting most of their warships in the front line armed with marines and artillery to launch flaming arrows.
A hush fell over both sides as the Romans and Egyptians waited to see who would move first into the narrow channel. At last, a Rhodian captain named Euphranor shouted: “Leave it to us, Caesar! We’ll begin the battle and won’t let you down. The rest can follow behind.” Caesar applauded the Rhodians and gave the signal to advance. Euphranor and his four warships headed for the Egyptian fleet. It was a tight squeeze, but with practiced skill the Rhodians rammed the first enemy vessels and sheared off their oars without suffering any damage themselves. The remaining Roman ships followed and the battle was under way.
All along the rooftops of the city, thousands of Alexandrians watched, cheering when their side seemed to gain the upper hand and howling when the Romans pulled ahead. If the Egyptian fleet could win, the citizens knew they would sail triumphantly into the eastern harbor and attack the palace itself. The Roman soldiers in the city also watched, knowing that everything depended on the success of their fleet. If the Alexandrians won, they would at last be trapped without supplies or hope of reinforcement. But fortune continued to smile on the Romans as Caesar’s fleet gained the upper hand and drove the enemy fleet back to shore, sinking three warships and capturing two. For the time being at least, the Romans maintained control of the eastern harbor.
Caesar was elated at the performance of his crews, but he knew the Alexandrians would strike again unless he gained mastery of the sea by seizing all of Pharos and the causeway connecting it to the city. He already controlled the area around the lighthouse, but he now launched a naval assault on the main part of the island with a fleet of small ships packed with several thousand troops. At first it was a replay of the disastrous invasion of Britain. The beach was heavily guarded by islanders, who knew the lay of the land and prevented the Romans from gaining a foothold. The defenders fought on shore and from fast ships while launching spears and arrows at the Romans from the roofs of nearby buildings. Finally, a few of the legionaries struggled onto land and held a beachhead while the rest of the troops came ashore. The islanders fell back to defend their homes, but soon panicked and fled down the causeway or began swimming for the mainland. Caesar’s troops killed many on the run and captured 6,000 prisoners for the slave markets. The Romans were granted permission to plunder the island, then ordered to demolish all the buildings. Caesar wanted to make a vivid impression on the people of Alexandria that this was the fate awaiting the mainland unless they came to terms.
But the Alexandrians were among the most tenacious foes Caesar had encountered in his many years at war. They were fighting to preserve not only their lives but their freedom and independence from Rome. Accordingly, they refused to surrender even an inch of their city to Caesar without bloodshed. The Romans satisfied themselves that evening with seizing the northern end of the mile-long causeway to Pharos and fortifying it with a barricade and garrison. The Alexandrians held the end closer to the city with hundreds of their own soldiers.
The next morning the Roman troops with Caesar in the lead attacked the southern end of the causeway. It was an awkward battlefield, long and narrow, so that there was no room for most of the Roman troops to advance by foot toward the city. The majority stayed on the ships on the eastern side of the causeway and launched artillery at the Alexandrian positions. The defenders countered with a rain of spears and arrows from ships on the western side and from buildings on shore. The battle raged for hours with the Romans slowly gaining ground until Egyptian ships began landing behind the legionaries and attacking them from the rear. The thousand or so Roman troops on the causeway were now facing the enemy on both sides with no room to maneuver. Alarm gripped even the veteran troops, who began to dive into the water in full battle armor and swim for their nearby ships. The commanders of the Roman fleet, however, fearing the Alexandrians would capture their vessels, had pulled away from the causeway to open water.
Caesar tried to restore order to his soldiers but the panic spread like wildfire. Those soldiers who made it to the fleet began pulling themselves into the overloaded ships until they started to capsize, throwing even more troops into the water. The frantic legionaries even forced their way onto Caesar’s small ship until it began to sink. Realizing what was about to happen, Caesar jumped into the harbor fully clothed and began to swim toward Pharos. He had mastered swimming in the Tiber as a boy, but as a man of fifty-two years in heavy armor hundreds of yards from shore, he was in serious danger of drowning. Nonetheless, he was determined not to damage some important papers in his possession and held them in his left hand above the water as the arrows poured down on him. Some sources say he gripped his purple general’s cloak in his teeth as he swam to the beach, but others record that the Alexandrians seized the cloak as a trophy and hung it up for all to see. Whatever the truth, Caesar finally struggled to shore but had lost an astonishing 400 soldiers and even more sailors in the bungled attempt to take the causeway. The Romans continued to hold Pharos, but the Alexandrians had won a crucial military and moral victory.
Far from being demoralized by their defeat, Caesar’s troops were energized to fight even harder against the Alexandrians. The Romans hated to think that Egyptians could get the better of them. All along the lines the legionaries pushed the Alexandrians back in fierce street battles that raged around the clock. The citizens of the city were amazed to see that the Roman soldiers took heart from a setback that would have left any other army in despair.
Whether out of genuine weariness of the war or—as is more likely—because of a nefarious plot by the anti-Arsinoe faction at the Egyptian court, the Alexandrians sent an embassy to ask Caesar if he might release their young king. They claimed they were weary of Arsinoe and the tyrannical Ganymedes. If only they had Ptolemy to guide them, they might come to terms with Caesar. The king’s inspired leadership could persuade those recalcitrant citizens among them to reach some mutually acceptable accord with the Romans.
Caesar was highly suspicious of this proposition, but he carefully weighed the pros and cons of handing over young Ptolemy to the Alexandrians. The boy clearly had no military skills or leadership abilities to inspire his people, so he was no direct threat to the Romans. Inside the palace he was a constant irritation to his sister Cleopatra, who would undoubtedly be thrilled to see him go. And there was always the slim chance, Caesar considered, that at least some of the Alexandrians sincerely wanted peace. In that case, releasing the king to their custody might smooth the way to a graceful victory.
However, Caesar placed little hope in the good intentions of the Egyptians. Whatever their reasons for wanting the king back, he believed he could use Ptolemy’s departure to serve his own goals. If the king turned against him, as was almost certain, Caesar would look better defeating an army led by a legitimate monarch than one commanded by a devious queen and her eunuch general. More crucially, Ptolemy would be a source of division within the Alexandrian leadership. Some would champion him while others backed his more cunning sister, so that dissension would spread throughout the enemy camp like a virus. And, of course, once the Alexandrians had been defeated, Caesar could dismiss Ptolemy as a rebel and retain the cooperative Cleopatra on the throne.
Young Ptolemy shed crocodile tears as he took his leave of Caesar, claiming he would much rather stay with the Romans than return to his own people. But as Caesar suspected, as soon as Ptolemy was back with the Alexandrians he declared Caesar his mortal enemy. Some of the Romans thought their general had been duped, but Caesar had known all along exactly what he was doing. The Alexandrians quickly began to weaken themselves with factional fighting. Arsinoe was forced to yield leadership to her brother, while the capable general Ganymedes was pushed into the background to make room for Ptolemy’s less talented advisers.
The new Alexandrian leadership was notably unsuccessful in waging war over the next few weeks. When they heard a convoy of supplies for the besieged Romans was on the way along the coast, they sent their navy to lie in wait near the mouth of the Nile. But Caesar received word of their plan and sent Tiberius Nero—father of the future emperor Tiberius—to intercept them. The Romans routed the Egyptian fleet, but lost the daring Rhodian captain Euphranor and his ship when he pursued the enemy with too much vigor.
In early March, news arrived at the Roman camp that Mithridates of Pergamum, the man Caesar had sent away weeks earlier to raise a relief force, was fast approaching the eastern end of the Nile delta near Pelusium. Mithridates brought Caesar a fresh army gathered from Arabia, Syria, and Palestine, including a contingent of three thousand Jewish troops. These had been sent by the Judean ruler and high priest Hyrcanus, but the force behind the throne was his gifted minister Antipater, father of Herod the Great. The Jews of Palestine were natural allies of Caesar since they had suffered greatly at the hands of Pompey, who had defiled the great temple in Jerusalem and stripped Judea of much of its territory during his eastern campaign. A new alliance with Caesar at this crucial moment, Antipater hoped, would strengthen the Jewish state. Hyrcanus and Antipater could also provide crucial help in swaying Alexandria’s large Jewish population to Caesar’s side.
The army of Mithridates took Pelusium after a fierce battle and headed southwest around the Nile delta, rather than cross the many waterways and marshes along the more direct path to Alexandria. Near modern Cairo Mithridates turned to follow the western branch of the Nile toward Alexandria. Ptolemy’s army quickly left the city and sailed up the river to confront the outnumbered Mithridates. As soon as he saw the enemy soldiers leaving town, Caesar gathered every man he could spare and sailed east out of the harbor in pursuit. But to avoid a naval battle with the king, the Romans secretly back-tracked that night and landed west of Alexandria. From there they marched double-time around Lake Mareotis and joined Mithridates before the Egyptian army arrived.
Ptolemy’s soldiers disembarked from the ships and set up camp on a high point just west of the river. Caesar pushed close to the enemy camp by using his German cavalry to scatter the Egyptians, then made his own camp near the king’s army to await the dawn. On the next day, March 27, 47 B.C., the Romans attacked the Alexandrian forces. It was a tough uphill struggle that lasted hours beneath the Egyptian sun until finally, Caesar’s men drove the enemy toward the Nile and slaughtered them. Young king Ptolemy himself fled the battle, but drowned in the river when his boat overturned. Caesar was so elated with the victory after three months of bitter struggle that he rode with his cavalry all the way back to Alexandria that very night. The citizens of the city rightly feared for their lives and met Caesar at the gates dressed as suppliants, begging him to spare their city the accustomed fate of conquered people. Caesar must have been tempted to sell the whole lot into slavery for the trouble they had caused him, but he was realistic enough to know that the commercial benefits of a flourishing Alexandria far outweighed any satisfaction from revenge. He pardoned the Alexandrians and made his way back to the palace and Cleopatra.
The next day Caesar began to reorganize the government of Egypt. The will of Ptolemy Auletes designated Cleopatra as joint ruler with her brother, the now deceased Ptolemy XIII, so Caesar fulfilled at least the spirit of the bequest by appointing the twelve-year-old Ptolemy XIV as the new coregent with Cleopatra. The two monarchs were also granted sovereignty over Cyprus—an arrangement that must have been particularly galling to Cato, who had worked so hard years before to organize direct Roman rule of the island. Although Ptolemy XIV officially held equal sway with Cleopatra, he lacked any real power, just as Caesar had planned. The rebellious sister Arsinoe was put in chains and sent to Rome to march in Caesar’s future triumphal parade along with Vercingetorix. To make sure everyone behaved, Caesar ordered three of his legions to remain in Egypt.
Why didn’t Caesar now annex Egypt as he had planned to do so many years before? He had conquered the Alexandrians in war and could have easily pacified any resistance in the south with the troops he had available. All the resources of Egypt were now open to Rome, so all he had to do was appoint a governor to manage the new province. The explanation for Egypt’s continued independence lies in Caesar’s very astute deduction that any Roman governor of Egypt could become a powerful threat to him. If Roman senators were led astray by greed in poor provinces, the vast riches of the Nile valley would be too much temptation even for a ruler with the integrity of Cato. A rebellious governor could use Egypt as a power base to launch a rebellion or squeeze Rome with an embargo of essential grain. Caesar was wise enough to realize that Cleopatra, bound to him by ties of necessity even more than love, was the ideal lord of Egypt. Cleopatra needed Caesar’s support to maintain her rule over the resentful Alexandrians. Without his legions behind her, the citizens of the city would rise up as they had so often against rulers in the past and drive her from her throne. But to make sure even the commander of Roman troops in Egypt would prove no threat, Caesar took the unprecedented step of appointing a trusted subordinate named Rufio, son of a former slave.
Caesar had now been in Egypt for almost eight months and away from Rome for over a year. It seemed certain that he would now hurry home to settle pressing affairs of state and organize strikes against the remaining Pompeian forces in Africa and Spain. Instead, what occurs next is one of the most puzzling interludes of Caesar’s life. Rather than sailing for Rome, Caesar went on a monthlong luxury cruise up the Nile with Cleopatra. Ancient sources favoring Caesar as well as some perplexed modern scholars either omit or downplay this episode, but there can be little doubt that it did occur.
Why would the most ambitious man in Roman history pause in the middle of a civil war for a vacation? If Caesar was true to his character—and not merely suffering from an astonishing midlife crisis—we can be certain that he had a very good reason for the trip. Like Cleopatra, Caesar knew that the wealth of Egypt did not derive ultimately from Alexandria. Along the fertile Nile valley to the south was the true heart of the Mediterranean’s oldest civilization. It was the rich, black soil of tens of thousands of farms from the pyramids to the first cataract of the Nile that fed much of the Roman world and filled the treasuries of Alexandria with gold. If Caesar wanted to hold Egypt for Rome, he had to secure the Nile valley. It is important to note that Caesar did not voyage up the Nile with just Cleopatra, but took along 400 ships full of Roman troops. If the natives of the south had any thoughts of rebellion, Caesar wanted to impress upon them that Rome was willing and able to crush them. Certainly the cruise was a well-deserved respite for Caesar after years of war, but it was more business than pleasure.
The final act of Caesar’s visit to Egypt came later that spring when Cleopatra gave birth to their son. Cleopatra called him Ptolemy XV, but the Alexandrians mockingly gave him the Greek name Caesarion, “Little Caesar.” Ancient historians struggled with the birth of this child, some omitting any reference to Caesarion or claiming Caesar was not the father. But again, there is little reason to doubt the truth of the matter as even friends of Caesar grudgingly acknowledged his paternity. In any case, Caesar would never have considered a son by the Egyptian queen as a threat to Rome, merely the product of a foreign liaison that might prove useful in assuring Cleopatra’s continued loyalty. How Caesar’s long-suffering wife Calpurnia reacted when she heard the news, we have no record.