29
THE war that was to follow in Alexandria, a war almost as complex, dangerous and strange as the city in which it was fought, was sparked off by the love affair between Caesar and Cleopatra. It is probable (indeed, knowing Caesar, it is more than probable) that the two became lovers on that first night. Caesar was 52 and Cleopatra 21, but the discrepancy in ages was easily outweighed by the similarity of their temperaments. Whatever else, Cleopatra was certainly no political virgin, for her whole life had been passed in the murderous intricacies of the Ptolemaic court, and she was typical of her family in her desire for power. Caesar might be old enough to be her father, but she knew that it was only through this Roman that she could maintain her kingdom and her place as its ruler. Caesar was the most powerful man in the world, and for that she must love him. She was determined to be Queen of Egypt and she had only one weapon that her brother, backed by his advisers, did not have—her sex. Caesar for his part could have had all the lovers he wanted, but an agreeable young woman who was also the Queen of Egypt and whose restoration to the throne could clearly help him financially was indeed a present from his ancestress Aphrodite. She was also a witty and amusing companion, inheriting the intellectual capacities of some of the early Ptolemies. Plutarch remarked that “she easily turned her tongue to any language that she wished.” She was a fluent and expressive Latin speaker, spoke Athenian Attic (the best Greek) and also knew the language of her people as well as those of the Ethiopians, Jews, Arabs and Syrians, Medes and Parthians, while “her royal predecessors had not even bothered to learn the Egyptian language…” Dio Cassius said of her that “her delightful manner of speaking was such that she captured all who listened to her,” while Plutarch commented:
To know her was to be touched with an irresistible charm. Her form, coupled with the persuasiveness of her conversation, and her delightful style of behavior—all these produced a blend of magic. Her delightful way of speaking was such as to win the heart. Her voice was like a lyre…
Cleopatra’s presence in the palace was revealed to Ptolemy XIII and his minister Pothinus the following morning, when Caesar summoned the young King to his apartments. Devastated at the sight of his sister lounging comfortably at ease in the presence of the Roman general and consul, their immediate thought was that Caesar must have heard Cleopatra’s side of the case and decided in her favor. He merely said that he was determined to stop this war between brother and sister and see that the will of their father was carried out, that his son and daughter should conjointly rule the kingdom. On hearing this the young King flew into a violent rage and rushed from the room. He ran to his friends and then, dashing the crown from his head in full view of the crowd, cried out that he was betrayed. The Roman guards, seeing a mob gathering at the gates of the palace, dragged the young King back inside, an act which aroused the indignation of the Alexandrians even further. The word swiftly went round that the exiled Cleopatra had returned and was in the company of Caesar—and that the Roman would use her to take over the kingdom from their rightful ruler Ptolemy XIII. But for the presence of the Roman legionaries on guard, the palace would have been invaded by the Alexandria mob.
Caesar realized that something must be done to calm the situation and called a meeting of all the people in which, speaking in his fluent Greek—the international language of that cosmopolitan capital—he read out to them the will of Ptolemy the Flute-Player. This specifically stated that Ptolemy XIII and Cleopatra VII should jointly rule Egypt. As he pointed out to the assembled throng, he was only doing what was incumbent upon him as representative of the Roman people to see that their late King’s wishes were respected. The young Ptolemy, still trembling with rage, and Cleopatra, smiling with satisfaction, were officially reconciled in the presence of their subjects.
Nevertheless Caesar was in a very awkward position, in a hostile city with, he had no doubt, the Egyptian army marching down from Pelusium against him, while he had only a few thousand legionaries to hand. He must temporize, and he did so now by declaring that the island of Cyprus was restored to Egypt, and would be jointly ruled by the two other children, Ptolemy XIV and his sister Arsinoe. This did a great deal to allay the fears and suspicions of the people—although not, of course, among those who saw themselves deprived of their power and position. Naturally Caesar had no intention of fulfilling this promise to give back to Ptolemaic control the important and rich island which Rome had acquired only ten years before. It would have been immensely resented in Rome and would, even with the senate as demoralized as it was, have caused more trouble than he could have handled. But he had already sent a message to Calvinus in Asia to send two legions to Egypt, and he counted on their arrival before the situation worsened drastically.
His enemies will have been well aware that Caesar only had troops enough to man the palace and its surrounds and that he must have sent for reinforcements, but Achillas and his army were expected down from Pelusium before any help for Caesar could arrive. In the meantime Pothinus continued with his opposition to the Roman presence and, in that palace of murder and intrigue, was undoubtedly plotting the Ro-man’s death, either by poison or the sword. Although outwardly nonchalant Caesar was careful about his security, but his relationship with Cleopatra undoubtedly delayed him in a situation from which he could, at that moment, have easily escaped. As sovereign master of the Roman world he could enjoy all the flattery he wished but, at the age of fifty-two, he cannot have been insensible to the charms of a physically attractive and highly intelligent young woman whose political aims so far as Egypt was concerned roughly coincided with his own.
Achillas with the army now arrived in Alexandria, and shortly afterward the investment of the palace quarters began. At that time the Egyptian army consisted of about 20,000 men and some 2,000 cavalry. It was a heterogeneous collection: legionaries left behind from the time when a Roman army of occupation had been imposed on the country to maintain Ptolemy the Flute-Player on his throne, slaves and criminals from all parts of the eastern Mediterranean, as well as Greek mercenaries. Although no match for Caesar’s battle-hardened legionaries, they outnumbered his troops by five to one and, backed as they were by a whole city which now rose to drive him out, constituted a formidable force if properly handled. Shortly after their arrival, determined to rid the palace of at least one source of disaffection, Caesar had the eunuch Pothinus executed for treachery.
Throughout “The Alexandrian War,” as it came to be called, Caesar and his legionaries held the palace and its complex of buildings together with its valuable hostages, the Flute-Player’s four children, between whom no love was lost. The first major worry arose when the freshwater canals that fed the palace complex were either dammed or fouled with seawater. Adept at sieges and at depriving his opponents of water, he now found himself in that very unenviable position. However, not to be daunted, and well aware that veins of fresh water are often to be found on limestone headlands, he set his troops digging in the palace grounds. Water was soon discovered, and his legionaries were comforted by the knowledge that their leader’s cleverness equaled his known bravery. Quite early in the course of the war, Cleopatra’s younger half-sister Arsinoe managed to escape from the palace in company with her tutor, the eunuch Ganymedes, another court intriguer of the same stamp as the dead Pothinus. Arsinoe now took the place of Ptolemy XIII, still a prisoner in the palace, as the center of the popular revolt to evict the Romans, and shortly afterward, Achillas, whose protégé was Ptolemy, was murdered at the instigation of Ganymedes and Arsinoe. With the young girl as his figurehead, the eunuch tutor now became the leader of the revolt.
The war in Alexandria, although it was petty compared with those other wars and battlefields in which Caesar was engaged, was nevertheless a highly dangerous one, and in its small circumference he is seen at his best as a man of action and infinite resource. Ganymedes now not only mounted a land attack on the palace quarter but threatened the seaward side by bringing up a large part of the Egyptian fleet: a grave threat to Caesar’s communications as he was expecting troops from Asia Minor by sea. Making one of those lightning attacks which were the hallmark of so many of his successes, he managed to capture the Egyptian fleet and set it on fire. The flames spread to the quayside and, in the general conflagration and confusion, part of the world-famous library of Alexandria went up in flames. Antony would make some amends for this some years later by giving the great library of Pergamum to Cleopatra.
In another passage of the Alexandrian war Caesar took charge of the Roman ships that lay off the palace and went out to escort the vessels carrying the 37th Legion. This had arrived from Asia Minor, but was unable to enter harbor because of the Egyptian ships patrolling off the coast. Caesar embarked aboard his small galley fleet, manned only by Rhodian sailors since he had to leave his legionaries to garrison the beleaguered palace, and in the ensuing action soundly defeated the Egyptians, allowing the convoy to enter harbor safely. His attempt to capture the Pharos, Alexandria’s great lighthouse and one of the Wonders of the World, even though it ended in failure and he nearly lost his life, showed the same spirit and audacity in the forefront of the action which never failed to endear him to his troops. On this occasion, an uncharacteristically bold move by the Egyptians had the Romans under Caesar trapped on the great dyke that led between the city of Alexandria and the island on which the Pharos stood. When they were forced to embark in small boats in order to escape, many men were lost through the boats being sunk or overturning under their weight. Caesar himself only managed to get clear of his craft by swimming for it (holding, so legend has it, important dispatches in one hand so as to keep them out of the water). Even his purple general’s cloak, upon which he set great store, had to be abandoned: it was later displayed over a trophy which Ganymedes and the Egyptians erected in memory of the Roman defeat.
It almost seems as if Caesar treated this early phase of the Alexandrian war in a lighthearted fashion, as some sort of escapade. But the loss of four hundred legionaries in the struggle for the Pharos, as well as a great many sailors, reminded him that he must play for time, and he reverted to his earlier policy of holding the palace position and waiting. In due course the land and sea forces which he had sent for from Syria and Asia Minor would arrive, capture Pelusium and take the Egyptian army in the back.
The politician in Caesar now took over. Hearing that the Egyptian army, unhappy with the combination of Arsinoe and her tutor Ganymedes, was still clamoring for Ptolemy to be restored to them, he decided to accede to their demands. This youth, the technical husband of Cleopatra, was no more than a nuisance to Caesar, since it had long been clear that the Egyptian people would not respect any commands he gave while he was in Roman hands. The two youngest children could remain in the palace as hostages, Cleopatra herself staying with Caesar of her own accord, but it seemed good tactics to restore Ptolemy XIII to the Alexandrians and the army. With his adviser Pothinus dead he was no more than a figurehead in any case, and as such, when the relief army came down and the Egyptians had to stand and fight, Ptolemy would be forced either to fly or to lead his troops in battle. In either case he was doomed. On being told that Caesar intended to restore him to his people the young Ptolemy is said to have burst into tears, saying that he did not want to leave Caesar and the palace. Clearly he saw his future prospects much as the Roman did, but he insisted on sending the Egyptian back to the embrace of his enthusiastic subjects—who promptly relieved Arsinoe and Ganymedes of the command of the army.
Mithridates of Pergamum, the son of a Galatian princess and the man whom Caesar had entrusted with the task of raising the relief army, finally appeared off Pelusium and quickly captured this important fortress. His troops, from Asia, Syria and Arabia, were powerfully reinforced by a Jewish contingent under Antipater (father of Herod the Great), who was the minister of the High Priest of the Jews. A forceful character, it was Antipater who was largely responsible for securing the help of other eastern princes, as well as bringing over to Caesar’s side the many Jews resident in Alexandria. Mithridates, after an easy victory over the Egyptians as he advanced toward Memphis, then crossed to the western bank of the Nile and prepared to march on Alexandria.
Ptolemy and his advisers moved out from Alexandria with their army to give battle, while Caesar embarked his troops and sailed off as if in the direction of Pelusium. Overnight the fleet was reversed, and Caesar sailed back west of Alexandria, where the troops disembarked and proceeded by forced marches through the desert to join up with the army of Mithridates near Memphis. Their combined forces now marched north to meet the Egyptians under Ptolemy. The battle, when it came, was hard-fought, lasting two days, but in the end the Egyptian army was practically annihilated. Those who fled by small boats across the Nile were mostly drowned, among them Cleopatra’s brother Ptolemy XIII, whose body was only identified by the gold royal corselet that he wore. Caesar had it sent back to Alexandria as proof to the citizens that the King was indeed dead—and that the struggle was over. On 27 March 47, he entered the city in triumph, the citizens sending a deputation to him in mourning, begging forgiveness for their part in the recent events. He was prepared to be clement, for he could be confident that he would have no more trouble in Egypt. Cleopatra was installed as Queen with her young brother as co-regent. Egypt was pacified and Caesar could have made it a Roman province without any real difficulty; that he did not do so was most probably due to his very real affection for Cleopatra. Cyprus was added to her kingdom and, to avoid any further potential trouble in the royal family, Cleopatra’s sister Arsinoe was sent away to Rome to grace his later triumph. Cleopatra was pregnant by Caesar—a fact which could no longer be concealed from the court, but which necessitated some clever propaganda among the Egyptian people. Cleopatra, in her capacity as Queen of Egypt, was equated with the goddess Isis, and a goddess could not conceive by a mere mortal (hence the royal incest). Now Caesar had already been hailed at Ephesus as “Descendant of Ares and Aphrodite, God Incarnate, and Savior of Mankind,” so the story was circulated for the benefit of the superstitious Egyptians that he was an incarnation of the god Amon (more or less equivalent to Zeus or Jupiter). Bas-reliefs have been found near Thebes showing Cleopatra as Isis in conversation with Amon, as well as depicting the birth of the divine child, who would be formally named Ptolemy Caesar but popularly known as Caesarion, “Little Caesar.” An epitaph dating from the last years of the Queen’s reign is inscribed “in the twentieth year after the union of Cleopatra and Amon.”
Caesar, in effect, now joined the divine royal family—which he will not have found difficult. He had in any case a good precedent, for Alexander the Great, after his visit to the famous temple of Amon at Siwah in the Libyan desert, had become known as the son of Amon. Coin portraits depict him with the ram’s horns of the god projecting from his head. Whether Alexander the Great or Caesar credited the identification is irrelevant, the fact was that it became widely believed among their subject peoples (whatever the sophisticated may have thought and said). It has already been suggested that something of Caesar’s apparent nonchalance and indifference to danger may have been due to some belief, however irrational, in a divine ancestry. This characteristic, as well as his will to power, was to become even more marked in his later years.
For the moment, the intricate and savage five-month-long Alexandrian war being over, Caesar intended to relax. Commentators then, and indeed ever since, have found it difficult to accept his behavior at a time when so many grave problems were pressing upon him. The empire and particularly Italy itself was in a state of confusion; the Pompeians had a strong fleet and army at Dyrrhachium and Corfu; a considerable army supporting the Pompeian cause was still in Africa; yet Caesar apparently chose to idle away his time in Egypt. Cicero, writing in June 47, states that, since December the previous year, not a letter from Caesar had been received in Rome—perhaps not so surprising if one considers the circumstances of the war in Alexandria.
It was now, in the spring of 47, that Caesar embarked on his famous boat trip (in the magnificent Ptolemaic state barge) up the Nile, in company with Cleopatra and with an enormous concourse of attendant barges, together with Roman troops keeping pace with the assembly along the river banks. A strong military escort was certainly necessary, not only for security reasons but to demonstrate to the whole of Egypt the might of Rome. Caesar was merely repeating what Alexander and then the Ptolemies had done—impressing the people, upon whom ultimately the wealth of Egypt depended, with the power and the protecting arm afforded to them by divine-style monarchs. The secret of monarchy in the East rested on the fact that, as was evident to even the simplest peasant, the rulers were more able to affect their lives, living conditions, and even the crops, through their actions—whether for peace or war—than the remote gods in the temples. It was understandable, therefore, that the powers of the gods should be seen incarnated in these rulers and—even as in modern parades and presidential or royal processions—it was essential that this power and splendor should be visibly displayed.
There was also a human factor for his staying on in Egypt after the war. At his age, month upon month of unremitting warfare, Pharsalus following upon Dyrrhachium, and the Alexandrian war upon that, had taxed Caesar to the hilt. He was entitled to some rest in the company of his young mistress—about to bear his child—and also to look with the eye of both a traveler and an administrator on this new land which he had, in effect, just added to the territories of Rome. Affairs of state, trouble in Asia Minor, subduing the last of the Pompeians, all these problems would soon enough call him away. Before he left, however, he was determined to see Egypt secure and Cleopatra secure in charge of Egypt. He had decided to leave three legions in the country, the command of which would normally have devolved upon a senator, but Caesar rightly did not trust any senator with the power of so many troops as well as the wealth of Egypt. He entrusted the legions to a man whom he knew to be a completely reliable officer, Rufio, neither an aristocrat nor one of his own set, but the son of a freed slave. It was an intelligent choice and later, after the annexation of Egypt, Augustus was to make such a type of appointment a basic part of imperial policy. Early in June Caesar left Egypt for Syria, and not long afterward Cleopatra gave birth to his only son.