Chapter XX

THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA AND THE TRIUMPH OF OCTAVIAN.

Cleopatra’s situation was at this moment terrible in the extreme. The blood-stained body of her husband lay stretched upon the bed, covered by her torn garments which she had thrown over it. Charmion and Iras, her two waiting-women, were probably huddled in the corner of the room, beating their breasts and wailing as was the Greek habit at such a time. Below the open window a few Romans and Egyptians appear to have gathered in the sun-baked courtyard; and, I think, the ladders still rested against the wall where they had been placed by those who had helped to raise Antony up to the Queen. It must now have been early afternoon, and the sunlight of the August day, no doubt, beat into the room, lighting the disarranged furniture and revealing the wet blood-stains upon the tumbled carpets over which the dying man’s heavy body had been dragged. From the one side the surge of the sea penetrated into the chamber; from the other the shouts of Octavian’s soldiers and the clattering of their arms came to Cleopatra’s ears, telling her of the enemy’s arrival in the Palace. She might expect at any moment to be asked to surrender, and more than probably an attempt would be made to capture her by means of an entry through the window. She had determined, however, never to be made prisoner in this manner, and she had, no doubt, given it to be clearly understood that any effort to seize her would be her signal for firing the funeral pyre which had been erected in the adjoining room and destroying herself upon it. To be made a captive probably meant her degradation at Octavian’s Triumph and the loss of her throne; but to surrender by mutual arrangement might assure her personal safety and the continuity of her dynasty. With this in view, it seems likely that she now armed her two women to resist any assault upon the windows, and told them to warn all who attempted to climb the ladders that she, with her priceless jewellery and treasures, would be engulfed in the flames before ever they had reached to the level of her place of refuge.

Antony had been dead but a few minutes when Proculeius, of whom he had spoken to Cleopatra just before he expired, arrived upon the scene, demanding, in the name of Octavian, an audience with the Queen. He knocked upon the barred door of the main entrance to the mausoleum, calling upon Cleopatra to admit him, and the sound must have echoed through the hall below and come to her ears, where she listened at the top of the stairs, like some ominous summons from the powers of the Underworld; but, fearing that she might be taken prisoner, she did not dare open to him, even if she could have shot back the heavy bolts, and she must have paced to and fro beside her husband’s corpse in an agony of indecision. At last, however, she ran down the marble staircase to the dimly-lighted hall below, and, standing beside the barricade which she had constructed against the inner side of the door, called out to Proculeius by name. He answered her from the outside, and in this manner they held a short parley with one another, she offering to surrender if she could receive Octavian’s word that her Kingdom of Egypt would be given to her son Cæsarion, and Proculeius replying only with the assurance that Octavian was to be trusted to act with clemency towards her. This was not satisfactory to her, and presently the Roman officer returned to his master, leaving Cleopatra undisturbed until late in the afternoon. He described the Queen’s situation to Octavian, and pointed out to him that it would probably not be difficult to effect an entrance to the mausoleum by means of the ladders, and that, with speed and a little manœuvring, Cleopatra could be seized before she had time to fire the pyre. Thereupon Octavian sent him with Cornelius Gallus,[139] who had now reached Alexandria, to attempt her capture, and the latter went straight to the door of the mausoleum, knocking upon it to summon the Queen. Cleopatra at once went down the stairs and entered into conversation with Cornelius Gallus through the closed door; and it would seem that her two women, perhaps eager to hear what was said, left their post at the window of the upper room and stood upon the steps behind her. As soon as the Queen was heard to be talking and reiterating her conditions of surrender, Proculeius ran round to the other side of the building, and, adjusting the ladders, climbed rapidly up to the window, followed by two other Roman officers. Entering the disordered room, he ran past the dead body of Antony and hurried down the stairs, at the bottom of which he encountered Charmion and Iras, while beyond them in the dim light of the hall he saw Cleopatra standing at the shut door, her back turned to him. One of the women uttered a cry, when she saw Proculeius, and called out to her mistress: “Unhappy Cleopatra, you are taken prisoner!” At this the Queen sprang round, and, seeing the Roman officer, snatched a dagger from its sheath at her waist and raised it for the stroke which should terminate the horror of her life. Proculeius, however, was too quick for her. He sprang at her with a force which must have hurled her back against the door, and, seizing her wrist, shook the dagger from her small hand. Then, holding her two arms at her side, he caused his men to shake her dress and to search her for hidden weapons or poison. “For shame, Cleopatra,” he said to her, scolding her for attempting to take her life; “you wrong yourself and Octavian very much in trying to rob him of so good an opportunity of showing his clemency, and you would make the world believe that the most humane of generals was a faithless and implacable enemy.” He then seems to have ordered his officers to remove the barriers and to open the door of the mausoleum, whereupon Cornelius Gallus and his men were able to assist him to guard the Queen and her two women. Shortly after this, Octavian’s freedman, Epaphroditus, arrived with orders to treat Cleopatra with all possible gentleness and civility, but to take the strictest precautions to prevent her injuring herself; and, acting on these instructions, the Roman officers seem to have lodged the Queen under guard in one of the upper rooms of the mausoleum, after having made a thorough search for hidden weapons or poisons.

Just before sunset Octavian made his formal entry into Alexandria. He wished to impress the people of the city with the fact of his benevolent and peace-loving nature, and therefore he made a certain Alexandrian philosopher named Areius, for whom he had a liking, ride with him in his chariot. As the triumphal procession passed along the beautiful Street of Canopus, Octavian was seen by the agitated citizens to be holding the philosopher’s hand and talking to him in the most gentle manner. Stories soon went the rounds that when the conqueror had received the news of Antony’s death he had shed tears of sorrow, and had read over to his staff some of his enemy’s furious letters to him and his own moderate replies, thus showing how the quarrel had been forced upon him. Orders now seem to have been issued forbidding all outrage or looting; and presently the frightened Alexandrians ventured from their hiding-places, most of the local magnates being ordered to gather themselves together in the Gymnasium. Here, in the twilight, Octavian rose to address them; and as he did so, they all prostrated themselves upon the ground before him in abject humiliation. Commanding them to rise, he told them that he freely acquitted them of all blame: firstly, in memory of the great Alexander who had founded their city; secondly, for the sake of the city itself which was so large and beautiful; thirdly, in honour of their god Serapis;[140] and lastly, to gratify his dear friend Areius, at whose request he was about to spare many lives.

Having thus calmed the citizens, who now must have hailed him as a kind of deliverer and saviour, he retired to his quarters, whence, in his sardonic manner, he appears to have issued orders for the immediate slaughter of those members of the court of Cleopatra and Antony for whom Areius had not any particular liking. The unfortunate Antyllus, Antony’s son, having been betrayed to Octavian by his faithless tutor Theodorus, was at once put to death in the temple erected by Cleopatra to Julius Cæsar, whither he had fled. As the executioner cut off the boy’s head, Theodorus contrived to steal a valuable jewel which hung round his neck; but the theft was discovered, and he was carried before Octavian, who ordered him to be crucified forthwith. A strict guard was set over the two children of Cleopatra, Ptolemy and Cleopatra Selene,[141] who were still in Alexandria; and Octavian seems to have given Cleopatra to understand that if she attempted to kill herself he would put these two children to death. Thus he was able to assure himself that she would refrain from taking her life, for, as Plutarch says, “before such engines her purpose (to destroy herself) shook and gave way.”

Antony’s body was now, I suppose, prepared for burial. Though mummification was still often practised in Alexandria by Greeks and Egyptians, I do not think that any elaborate attempt was made to embalm the corpse, and it was probably ready for the funeral rites within a few days. Out of respect to the dead general a number of Roman officers and foreign potentates who were with Octavian’s army begged to be allowed to perform these rites at their own expense; but in deference to Cleopatra’s wishes the body was left in the Queen’s hands, and instructions were issued that her orders were to be obeyed in regard to the funeral. Thus Antony was buried, with every mark of royal splendour and pomp, in a tomb which had probably long been prepared for him, not far from his wife’s mausoleum. Cleopatra followed him to his grave, a tragic, piteous little figure, surrounded by a group of her lamenting ladies; and, while the priests burnt their incense and uttered their droning chants, the Queen’s fragile hands ruthlessly beat her breasts as she called upon the dead man by his name. In these last terrible hours only the happier character of her relationship with Antony was remembered, and the recollection of her many disagreements with him were banished from her mind by the piteous scenes of his death, and by the thought of his last tender words to her as he lay groaning upon her bed. In her extreme loneliness she must have now desired his buoyant company of earlier years with an intensity which she could hardly have felt during his lifetime; and it must have been difficult indeed for her to refrain from putting an end to her miserable life upon the grave of her dead lover. Yet Octavian’s threat in regard to her children held her hand; and, moreover, even in her utter distress, she had not yet abandoned her hope of saving Egypt from the clutch of Rome. Her own dominion, she knew, was over, and the best fate which she herself could hope for was that of an unmolested exile; yet Octavian’s attitude to her indicated in every way that he would be willing to leave the throne to her descendants. She did not know how falsely he was acting towards her, how he was making every effort to encourage hope in her heart in order that he might bring her alive to Rome to be exhibited in chains to the jeering populace. She did not understand that his messages of encouragement, and even of affection, to her were written with sardonic cunning, that his cheerful assurances in regard to her children were made at a time when he was probably actually sending messages post-haste to Berenice to attempt to recall Cæsarion in order to put him to death. She did not understand Octavian’s character: perhaps she had never even seen him; and she hoped somehow to make a last appeal to him. She had played her wonderful game for the amalgamation of Egypt and Rome into one vast kingdom, ruled by her descendants and those of the great Julius Cæsar, and she had lost. But there was yet hope that out of the general wreck she might save the one asset with which she had started her operations--the independent throne of Egypt; and to accomplish this she must live on for a while longer, and must face with bravery the nightmare of her existence.

Coming back, after the funeral, to her rooms in the mausoleum, wherein she had now decided to take up her residence, she fell into a high fever; and there upon her bed she lay in delirium for several days. She suffered, moreover, very considerable pain, due to the inflammation and ulceration caused by the blows which she had rained upon her delicate body in the abandonment of her despair. Over and over again she was heard to utter in her delirium the desolate cry, “I _will not_ be exhibited in his Triumph,” and in her distress she begged repeatedly to be allowed to die. At one time she refused all food, and begged her doctor, a certain Olympus, to help her to pass quietly out of the world.[142] Octavian, however, hearing of her increasing weakness, warned her once more that unless she made an effort to live he would not be lenient to her children; whereupon, as though galvanised into life by this pressure upon her maternal instincts, she made the necessary struggle to recover, obediently swallowing the medicine and stimulants which were given to her.

Thus the hot August days passed by, and at length the Queen, now fragile and haggard, was able to move about once more. Her age at this time was thirty-eight years, and she must have lost that freshness of youth which had been her notable quality; but her brilliant eyes had now perhaps gained in wonder by the pallor of her face, and the careless arrangement of her dark hair must have enhanced her tragic beauty. The seductive tones of her voice could not have been diminished, and that peculiar quality of elusiveness may well have been accentuated by her illness and by the nervous strain through which she had passed. Indeed, her personal charm was still so great that a certain Cornelius Dolabella, one of the Roman officers whose duty it was to keep watch over her, speedily became her devoted servant, and was induced to promise that he would report to her any plans in regard to her welfare which Octavian should disclose.

On August 28th, as she lay upon a small pallet-bed in the upper room, gazing in utter desolation, as I imagine, over the blue waters of the Mediterranean, her women ran in to her to tell her that Octavian had come to pay his respects to her. He had not yet visited her, for he had very correctly avoided her previous to and during Antony’s funeral; and since that time she had been too ill to receive him. Now, however, she was convalescent, and the conqueror had arrived unexpectedly to congratulate her, as etiquette demanded, upon her recovery. He walked into the room before the Queen had time to prepare herself; and Plutarch describes how, “on his entering, she sprang from her bed, having nothing on but the one garment next her body, and flung herself at his feet, her hair and face looking wild and disfigured, her voice trembling, and her eyes sunken and dark. The marks of the blows which she had rained upon herself were visible about her breast, and altogether her whole person seemed to be no less afflicted than was her spirit. But for all this, her old charm and the boldness of her youthful beauty had not wholly left her, and, in spite of her present condition, still shone out from within and allowed itself to appear in all the expressions of her face.”

The picture of the distraught little Queen, her dark hair tumbled over her face, her loose garment slipping from her white shoulders, as she crouches at the feet of this cold, unhealthy-looking man, who stands somewhat awkwardly before her, is one which must distress the mind of the historian who has watched the course of Cleopatra’s warfare against the representative of Rome. Yet in this scene we are able to discern her but stripped of the regal and formal accessories which have often caused her to appear more imposing and awe-inspiring than actually her character justified. She was essentially a woman, and now, in her condition of physical weakness, she acted precisely as any other overwrought member of her sex might have behaved under similar circumstances. Her wonderful pluck had almost deserted her, and her persistence of purpose was lost in the wreck of all her hopes. We have often heard her described as a calculating woman, who lived her life in studied and callous voluptuousness, and who died in unbending dignity; but, as I have tried to indicate in this volume, the Queen’s nature was essentially feminine--highly-strung, and liable to rapid changes from joy to despair. Keen, independent, and fearless though she was, she was never a completely self-reliant woman, and in circumstances such as those which are now being recorded we obtain a view of her character, which shows her to have been capable of needing desperately the help and sympathy of others.

Octavian raised her to her feet, and, assisting her once more on to her bed, sat himself down beside her. At first she talked to him in a rambling manner, justifying her past movements, and attributing certain actions, such, I suppose, as her hiding in the mausoleum, to her fear of Antony; but when Octavian pointed out to her the discrepancies in her statements she made no longer any attempt to excuse her conduct, begging him only not to take her throne from her son, and telling him that she was willing enough to live if only he would insure the safety of her country and dynasty, and would be merciful to her children. Then, rising from the bed, she brought to Octavian a number of letters written to her by Julius Cæsar, and also one or two portraits of him painted for her during his lifetime. “You know,” she said,[143] “how much I was with your father,[144] and you are aware that it was he who placed the crown of Egypt upon my head; but, so that you may know something of our private affairs, please read these letters. They are all written to me with his own hand.”

Octavian must have turned the letters over with some curiosity, but he does not seem to have shown a desire to read them; and, seeing this, Cleopatra cried: “Of what use are all these letters to me? Yet I seem to see him living again in them.” The thought of her old lover and friend, and the memories recalled by the letters and portraits before her seem to have unnerved her; and, being in so overwrought and weak a condition, she now broke down completely. Between her sobs she was heard to exclaim, “Oh, I wish to God you were still alive,” as though referring to Julius Cæsar.

Octavian appears to have consoled her as best he could; and at length she seems to have agreed that, in return for his clemency, she would place herself entirely in his hands, and would hand over to him without reserve all her property. One of her stewards, named Seleucus, happened to be awaiting her orders in the mausoleum at the time, and, sending for him, she told him to hand over to Octavian the list which they together had lately made of her jewellery and valuables, and which now lay with her other papers in the room. Seleucus seems to have read the document to Octavian; but, wishing to ingratiate himself with his new master, and thinking that loyalty to Cleopatra no longer paid, he volunteered the information that various articles were omitted from the list, and that the Queen was purposely secreting these for her own advantage. At this Cleopatra sprang from her bed, and, dashing at the astonished steward, seized him by the hair, shook him to and fro, and furiously slapped his face. So outraged and overwrought was she that she might well have done the man some serious injury had not Octavian, who could not refrain from laughing, withheld her and led her back to her seat. “Really it is very hard,” she exclaimed to her visitor, “when you do me the honour to come to see me in this condition I am in, that I should be accused by one of my own servants of setting aside some women’s trinkets--not so as to adorn my unhappy self, you may be sure, but so that I might have some little presents by me to give to your sister Octavia and your wife Livia, that by their intercession I might hope to find you to some extent disposed to mercy.”

Cæsar was delighted to hear her talk in this manner, for it seemed to indicate that she was desirous of continuing to live; and he was most anxious that she should do so, partly, as I have said, that he might have the satisfaction of parading her in chains through the streets of Rome, and partly, perhaps, in order to show, thereafter, his clemency and his respect to the late Dictator’s memory by refraining from putting her to death. He therefore told her that she might dispose of these articles of jewellery as she liked; and, promising that his usage of her would be merciful beyond her expectation, he brought his visit to a close, well satisfied that he had won her confidence, and that he had entirely deceived her. In this, however, he was mistaken, and he was himself deceived by her.

Cleopatra had observed from his words and manner that he wished to exhibit her in Rome, and that he had little intention of allowing her son Cæsarion to reign in her place, but purposed to seize Egypt on behalf of Rome. Far from reassuring her, the interview had left her with the certainty that the doom of the dynasty was sealed; and already she saw clearly that there was nothing left for which to live. Presently a messenger from Cornelius Dolabella came to her, and broke the secret news to her that Octavian, finding her now recovered from her illness, had decided to ship her off to Rome with her two children in three days’ time or less. It is possible, also, that Dolabella was already able to tell her that there was no hope for her son Cæsarion, for that Octavian had decided to kill him so soon as he could lay hands on him, realising, at the instance of his Alexandrian friend Areius, that it was unwise to leave at large one who claimed to be the rightful successor of the great Dictator.

On hearing this news the Queen determined to kill herself at once, for her despair was such that the fact of existence had become intolerable to her. In her mind she must have pictured Octavian’s Triumph in Rome, in which she and her children would figure as the chief exhibits. She would be led in chains up to the Capitol, even as she had watched her sister Arsinoe paraded in the Triumph of Julius Cæsar; and she could hear in imagination the jeers and groans of the townspeople, who would not fail to remind her of her former boast that she would one day sit in royal judgment where then she would be standing in abject humiliation. The thought, which of itself was more than she could bear, was coupled with the certainty that, were she to prolong her life, she would have to suffer also the shock of her beloved son’s cruel murder, for already his death seemed inevitable.

Having therefore made up her mind, she sent a message to Octavian asking his permission for her to visit Antony’s tomb, in order to make the usual oblations to his spirit. This was granted to her, and upon the next morning, August 29th, she was carried in her litter to the grave, accompanied by her women. Arriving at the spot she threw herself upon the gravestone, embracing it in a very passion of woe. “Oh, dearest Antony,” she cried, the tears streaming down her face, “it is not long since with these hands I buried you. Then they were free; now I am a captive; and I pay these last duties to you with a guard upon me, for fear that my natural griefs and sorrows should impair my servile body and make it less fit to be exhibited in their Triumph over you. Expect no further offerings or libations from me, Antony; these are the last honours that Cleopatra will be able to pay to your memory, for she is to be hurried far away from you. Nothing could part us while we lived, but death seems to threaten to divide us. You, a Roman born, have found a grave in Egypt. I, an Egyptian, am to seek that favour, and none but that, in your country. But if the gods below, with whom you now are dwelling, can or will do anything for me, since those above have betrayed us, do not allow your living wife to be abandoned, let me not be led in Triumph to your shame; but hide me, hide me: bury me here with you. For amongst all my bitter misfortunes nothing has been so terrible as this brief time that I have lived away from you.”[145]

For some moments she lay upon the tombstone passionately kissing it, her past quarrels with the dead man all forgotten in her desire for his companionship now in her loneliness, and only her earlier love for him being remembered in the tumult of her mind. Then, rising and placing some wreaths of flowers upon the grave, she entered her litter and was carried back to the mausoleum.

_Vatican._] [_Photograph by Anderson._

THE NILE.

AN EXAMPLE OF ALEXANDRIAN ART.]

As soon as she had arrived she ordered her bath to be prepared, and having been washed and scented, her hair being carefully plaited around her head, she lay down upon a couch and partook of a sumptuous meal. After this she wrote a short letter to Octavian, asking that she might be buried in the same tomb with Antony; and, this being despatched, she ordered everybody to leave the mausoleum with the exception of Charmion and Iras, as though she did not wish to be disturbed in her afternoon’s siesta. The doors were then closed, and the sentries mounted guard on the outside in the usual manner.

When Octavian read the letter which Cleopatra’s messenger had brought him, he realised at once what had happened, and hastened to the mausoleum. Changing his mind, however, he sent some of his officers in his place, who, on their arrival, found the sentries apprehensive of nothing. Bursting open the door they ran up the stairs to the upper chamber, and immediately their worst fears were realised. Cleopatra, already dead, lay stretched upon her bed of gold, arrayed in her Grecian robes of state, and decked with all her regal jewels, the royal diadem of the Ptolemies encircling her brow. Upon the floor at her feet Iras was just breathing her last; and Charmion, scarce able to stand, was tottering at the bedside, trying to adjust the Queen’s crown.

One of the Roman officers exclaimed angrily: “Charmion, was this well done of your lady?” Charmion, supporting herself beside the royal couch, turned her ashen face towards the speaker. “Very well done,” she gasped, “and as befitted the descendant of so many Kings”; and with these words she fell dead beside the Queen.

The Roman officers, having despatched messengers to inform Octavian of the tragedy, seem to have instituted an immediate inquiry as to the means by which the deaths had taken place.[146] At first the sentries could offer no information, but at length the fact was elicited that a peasant carrying a basket of figs had been allowed to enter the mausoleum, as it was understood that the fruit was for the Queen’s meal. The soldiers declared that they had lifted the leaves with which the fruit was covered and had remarked on the fineness of the figs, whereupon the peasant had laughed and had invited them to take some, which they had refused to do. It was perhaps known that Cleopatra had expressed a preference for death by the bite of an asp,[147] and it was therefore thought that perhaps one of these small snakes had been brought to her concealed under the figs. A search was made for the snake, and one of the soldiers stated that he thought he saw a snake-track leading from the mausoleum over the sand towards the sea. An attendant who had admitted the peasant seems now to have reported that when Cleopatra saw the figs she exclaimed, “So here it is!” a piece of evidence which gave some colour to the theory. Others suggested that the asp had been kept at hand for some days in a vase, and that the Queen had, at the end, teased it until she had made it strike at her. An examination of the body showed nothing except two very slight marks upon the arm, which might possibly have been caused by the bite of a snake. On the other hand, it was suggested that the Queen might have carried some form of poison in a hollow hair-comb or other similar article; and this theory must have received some support from the fact that there were the three deaths to account for.

Presently Octavian seems to have arrived, and he at once sent for snake-doctors, _Psylli_, to suck the poison from the wound; but they came too late to save her. Though Octavian expressed his great disappointment at her death, he could not refrain from showing his admiration for the manner in which it had occurred. Personally, he appears to have favoured the theory that her end was caused by the bite of the asp, and afterwards in his Triumph he caused a figure of Cleopatra to be exhibited with a snake about her arm. Though it is thus quite impossible to state with certainty how it occurred, there is no reason to contradict the now generally accepted story of the introduction of the asp in the basket of figs. I have no doubt that the Queen had other poisons in her possession, which were perhaps used by her two faithful women; and it is to be understood that the strategy of the figs, if employed at all, was resorted to only in order that she herself might die by the means which her earlier experiments had commended to her.

Octavian now gave orders that the Queen should be buried with full honours beside Antony, where she had wished to lie. He had sent messengers, it would seem, to Berenice to attempt to stop the departure of Cæsarion for India, having heard, no doubt, that the young man had decided to remain in that town until the last possible moment. His tutor, Rhodon, counselled him to trust himself to Octavian; and, acting upon this advice, they returned to Alexandria, where they seem to have arrived very shortly after Cleopatra’s death. Octavian immediately ordered Cæsarion to be executed, his excuse being that it was dangerous for _two Cæsars_ to be in the world together; and thus died the last of the Ptolemaic Pharaohs of Egypt, the son and only real heir of the great Julius Cæsar. The two other children who remained in the Palace, Ptolemy and Cleopatra Selene, were shipped off to Rome as soon as possible, and messengers seem to have been despatched to Media to take possession of Alexander Helios who had probably been sent thither, as we have already seen.

In my opinion, Octavian now decided to take over Egypt as a kind of personal possession. He did not wish to cause a revolution in the country by proclaiming it a Roman province; and he seems to have appreciated the ceaseless efforts of Cleopatra and her subjects to prevent the absorption of the kingdom in this manner. He therefore decided upon a novel course of action. While not allowing himself to be crowned as actual King of Egypt, he assumed that office by tacit agreement with the Egyptian priesthood. He seems to have claimed, in fact, to be heir to the throne of the Ptolemies. Julius Cæsar had been recognised as Cleopatra’s husband in Egypt, and he, Octavian, was Cæsar’s adopted son and heir. After the elimination of Cleopatra’s three surviving children he was, therefore, the rightful claimant to the Egyptian throne. The Egyptians at once accepted him as their sovereign, and upon the walls of their temples we constantly find his name inscribed in hieroglyphics as “King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Son of the Sun, Cæsar, living for ever, beloved of Ptah and Isis.” He is also called by the title Autocrator, which he took over from Antony, and which, in the Egyptian inscriptions, was recognised as a kind of hereditary royal name, being written within the Pharaonic cartouche.[148] His descendants, the Emperors of Rome, were thus successively Kings of Egypt, as though heads of the reigning dynasty; and each Emperor as he ascended the Roman throne was hailed as Monarch of Egypt, and was called in all Egyptian inscriptions “Pharaoh” and “Son of the Sun.” The Egyptians, therefore, with the acquiescence of Octavian, came to regard themselves not as vassals of Rome, but as subjects of their own King, who happened at the same time to be Emperor of Rome; and thus the great Egypto-Roman Empire for which Cleopatra had struggled actually came into existence. All Emperors of Rome came to be recognised in Egypt not as sovereigns of a foreign empire of which Egypt was a part, but as _actual Pharaohs of Egyptian dominions of which Rome was a part_.

The ancient dynasties had passed away, the Amenophis and Thutmosis family, the house of Rameses, the line of Psammetichus, and many another had disappeared. And now, in like manner, the house of the Ptolemies had fallen, and the throne of Egypt was occupied by the dynasty of the Cæsars. This dynasty, as it were, supplied Rome with her monarchs; and the fact that Octavian was hailed by Egyptians as King of Egypt long before he was recognised by Romans as Emperor of Rome, gave the latter throne a kind of Pharaonic origin in the eyes of the vain Egyptians. It has usually been supposed that Egypt became a Roman province; but it was never declared to be such. Octavian arranged that it should be governed by a _praefectus_, who was to act in the manner of a viceroy,[149] and he retained the greater part of the Ptolemaic revenues as his personal property. While later in Rome he pretended that Cleopatra’s kingdom had been annexed, in Egypt it was distinctly understood that the country was still a monarchy.

He treated the Queen’s memory with respect, since he was carrying on her line; and he would not allow her statues to be overthrown.[150] All her splendid treasures, however, and the gold and silver plate and ornaments were melted down and converted into money with which to pay the Roman soldiers. The royal lands were seized, the palaces largely stripped of their wealth; and when at last Octavian returned to Rome in the spring of B.C. 29, he had become a fabulously rich man.

On August 13th, 14th, and 15th of the same year three great Triumphs were celebrated, the first day being devoted to the European conquests, the second to Actium, and the third to the Egyptian victory. A statue of Cleopatra, the asp clinging to her arm, was dragged through the streets of the capital, and the Queen’s twin children, Alexander Helios and Cleopatra Selene, were made to walk in captivity in the procession. Images representing Nilus and Egypt were carried along, and an enormous quantity of interesting loot was heaped up on the triumphal cars. The poet Propertius tells us how in fancy he saw “the necks of kings bound with golden chains, and the fleet of Actium sailing up the Via Sacra.” All men became unbalanced by enthusiasm, and stories derogatory to Cleopatra were spread on all sides. Horace, in a wonderful ode, expressed the public sentiments, and denounced the unfortunate Queen as an enemy of Rome. Honours were heaped upon Octavian; and soon afterwards he was given the title of Augustus, and was named _Divi filius_, as being heir of _Divus Julius_. He took great delight in lauding the memory of the great Dictator, who was now accepted as one of the gods of the Roman world; and it is a significant fact that he revived and reorganised the Lupercalia, as though he were in some manner honouring Cæsar thereby.[151]

Meanwhile the three children of Cleopatra and Antony found a generous refuge in the house of Octavia, Antony’s discarded wife. With admirable tact Octavian seems to have insisted upon this solution of the difficulty as to what to do with them. Their execution would have been deeply resented by the Egyptians, and, since Octavian was now posing as the legal heir to the throne of Egypt, the dynastic successor of Cleopatra, and not a foreign usurper, it was well that his own sister should look after these members of the royal family. Octavia, always meek and dutiful, accepted the arrangement nobly, and was probably unvaryingly kind to these children of her faithless husband, whom she brought up with her two daughters, Antonia Major and Minor, and Julius Antonius, the second son of Antony and Fulvia, and brother of the murdered Antyllus. When the little Cleopatra Selene grew up she was married to Juba, the King of Numidia, a learned and scholarly monarch, who was later made King of Mauretania. The son of this marriage was named Ptolemy, and succeeded his father about A.D. 19. He was murdered by Caligula, who, by the strange workings of Fate, was also a descendant of Antony. We do not know what became of Alexander Helios and his brother Ptolemy. Tacitus tells us[152] that Antonius Felix, Procurator of Judæa under the Emperor Nero, married (as his second wife) Drusilla, a granddaughter of Cleopatra and Antony, who was probably another of the Mauretanian family. Octavia died in B.C. 11. Antony’s son, Julius Antonius, in B.C. 2, was put to death for his immoral relations with Octavian’s own daughter Julia, she herself being banished to the barren island of Pandateria. Octavian himself, covered with honours and full of years, died in A.D. 14, being succeeded upon the thrones of Egypt and of Rome by Tiberius, his son.

During the latter part of the reign of Octavian, or Augustus, as one must call him, the influence of Alexandria upon the life of Rome began to be felt in an astonishing degree; and so greatly did Egyptian thought alter the conditions in the capital that it might well be fancied that the spirit of the dead Cleopatra was presiding over that throne which she had striven to ascend. Ferrero goes so far as to suggest that the main ideas of splendid monarchic government and sumptuous Oriental refinement which now developed in Rome were due to the direct influence of Alexandria, and perhaps to the fact that the new emperors were primarily Kings of Egypt. Alexandrian artists and artisans swarmed over the sea to Italy, and the hundreds of Romans who had snatched estates for themselves in Egypt travelled frequently to that country on business, and unconsciously familiarised themselves with its arts and crafts. Alexandrian sculpture and painting was seen in every villa, and the poetry and literature of the Alexandrian school were read by all fashionable persons. Every Roman wanted to employ Alexandrians to decorate his house, everybody studied the manners and refinements of the Græco-Egyptians. The old austerity went to pieces before the buoyancy of Cleopatra’s subjects, just as the aloofness of London has disappeared under the Continental invasion of the last few years.

Thus it may be said that the Egypto-Roman Empire of Cleopatra’s dreams came to be founded in actual fact, with this difference, that its monarchs were sprung from the line of Octavian, Cæsar’s nephew, and not from that of Cæsarion, Cæsar’s son. But while Egypt and Alexandria thus played such an important part in the creation of the Roman monarchy, the memory of Cleopatra, from whose brain and whose influence the new life had proceeded, was yearly more painfully vilified. She came to be the enemy of this Orientalised Rome, which still thought itself Occidental; and her struggle with Octavian was remembered as the evil crisis through which the party of the Cæsars had passed. Abuse was heaped upon her, and stories were invented in regard to her licentious habits. It is upon this insecure basis that the world’s estimate of the character of Cleopatra is founded; and it is necessary for every student of these times at the outset of his studies to rid his mind of the impression which he will have obtained from these polluted sources. Having shut out from his memory the stinging words of Propertius and the fierce lines of Horace, written in the excess of his joy at the close of the period of warfare which had endangered his little country estate, the reader will be in a position to judge whether the interpretation of Cleopatra’s character and actions, which I have laid before him, is to be considered as unduly lenient, and whether I have made unfair use of the merciful prerogative of the historian, in behalf of an often lonely and sorely tried woman, who fought all her life for the fulfilment of a patriotic and splendid ambition, and who died in a manner “befitting the descendant of so many kings.”

THE END.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.

GENEALOGY OF THE PTOLEMIES.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Dickens.

[2] Sergeant.

[3] The Egyptian reliefs upon the walls of Dendereh temple and elsewhere show conventional representations of the Queen which are not to be regarded as real portraits. The so-called head of the Queen in the Alexandria Museum probably does not represent her at all, as most archæologists will readily admit.

[4] This island has now become part of the mainland.

[5] For a restoration of the lighthouse, see the work of H. Thiersch.

[6] Josephus.

[7] The first Ptolemy brought the body of Alexander to Alexandria, and deposited it, so it is said, in a golden sarcophagus; but this was believed to have been stolen, and the alabaster one substituted.

[8] Surely not 200 feet, as is sometimes said.

[9] Some years later, after it had been popularised by Augustus.

[10] Plutarch: Cæsar.

[11] Bell. Civ. III. 47.

[12] Susemihl. Geschichte der griechischen Litteratur in der Alexandrinerzeit.

[13] In hieroglyphs the name reads _Kleopadra_. It is a Greek name, meaning “Glory of her Race.”

[14] Representations of Cleopatra or other sovereigns of the dynasty dressed in Egyptian costume are probably simply traditional.

[15] Mommsen.

[16] Or do I wrong the hero of Utica?

[17] Porphyry says he died in the eighth year of Cleopatra’s reign, and Josephus states that he was fifteen years of age at his death. This would make him about seven years old at Cleopatra’s accession, which seems probable enough.

[18] He had been Consul with Julius Cæsar in 59.

[19] The end of September, owing to irregularities in the calendar, of which we shall presently hear more, corresponded to the middle of July.

[20] According to Plutarch and others; but the incident is not mentioned in Cæsar’s memoirs.

[21] I do not know any record of what became of the 2000 men of Pompey’s bodyguard. They probably fled back to Europe on the death of their commanding officer.

[22] As Consul he would have been entitled to twelve lictors, as Dictator to twenty-four; but we are not told which number he employed on this occasion.

[23] I quote the telling phrase used by Warde Fowler in his ‘Social Life at Rome.’

[24] In interpreting the situation thus, I am aware that I place myself at variance with the accepted view which attributes to Cæsar an eagerness to return quickly to Rome.

[25] It is not certain whether the 2000 horse are to be included or not in the total of 20,000.

[26] In spite of the statement to the contrary in De Bello Alexandrino.

[27] So the early writers state.

[28] Page 235.

[29] It is usually stated that Cæsar remained in Egypt chiefly because he was in need of money, as is suggested by Dion, xlii. 9 and 34; Oros, vi. 15, 29, and Plutarch, 48. But the small sum which he took from the Egyptians is against this theory.

[30] In ancient Egypt the princes and princesses often had male “nurses,” the title being an exceedingly honourable one. The Egyptian phrase sometimes reads “great nurse and nourisher,” and M. Lefebvre tells me that in a Fayoum inscription the tutor of Ptolemy Alexander is called τροφεὺς καὶ τιθηνὸς Ἀλεξάνδρου.

[31] Plutarch.

[32] See p. 31.

[33] Note also (p. 112) Cæsar’s departure with his army from the besieged Palace.

[34] This was actually some time in January.

[35] Just as the British Army of Occupation now in Egypt was originally stationed there to support the Khedive upon his throne and to keep order.

[36] Corresponding to the actual season of February.

[37] Pliny, vi. 26.

[38] Pliny, vi. 26.

[39] Page 57.

[40] It has generally been stated that Cæsar left Egypt before the birth of Cæsarion, an opinion which, in view of the fact that Appian says he remained nine months in Egypt, has always seemed to me improbable; for it is surely more than a coincidence that he delayed his departure from Egypt until the very month in which Cleopatra’s and his child was to be expected to arrive, he having met her in the previous October. Plutarch’s statement may be interpreted as meaning that Cæsar departed to Syria after the birth of his son. I think that Cicero’s remark, in a letter dated in June B.C. 47, that there was a serious hindrance to Cæsar’s departure from Alexandria, refers to the event for which he was waiting. Those who suggest that Cæsar did _not_ remain in Egypt so long are obliged to deny that the authors are correct in stating that he went up the Nile; and they have to disregard the positive statement of Appian that the Dictator’s visit lasted nine months. Moreover, the date of the celebration of Cæsarion’s seventeenth birthday (as recorded on p. 361) is a further indication that he was born no later than the beginning of July.

[41] It has generally been thought that this was simply a pleasure cruise up the Nile; but the number of ships (given by Appian) indicates that many troops were employed, and the troops are referred to by Suetonius also.

[42] The _thalamegos_ described by Athenæus was not that used on this occasion, but the description will serve to give an idea of its luxury.

[43] Athenæus, v. 37. The number of banks of oars and the measurements, as given by him, are probably exaggerated.

[44] It was presented to the British Government, and now stands on the Thames Embankment in London. It is known as “Cleopatra’s Needle.”

[45] Cicero, A. xi. 17. 13.

[46] He could have performed the journey in five days or less with a favourable wind.

[47] Notably Dr Mahaffy.

[48] Judging by the remark of the commentator on Lucan, ‘Pharsalia,’ x. 521.

[49] A coin inscribed with the words _Ægypto capta_ was struck after his return to Rome (Goltzius: de re Numm.)

[50] Houssaye, ‘Aspasie, Cleopatre, Theodora,’ p. 91, for example, says that society was shocked at a Roman being in love with an Egyptian; and Sergeant, ‘Cleopatra of Egypt,’ writes: “It was as an Egyptian that Cleopatra offended the Romans.”

[51] Horace’s Ode was written after the engineered talk of the “eastern peril” had done its work--_i.e._, after Actium.

[52] Ad Atticum, xv. 15.

[53] I think this fact may be regarded as an argument in favour of the opinion that Cleopatra had been in Rome already several weeks.

[54] Venus and Isis were identified in Rome also.

[55] As, for example, when the actor Diphilus alluded to Pompey in the words “Nostra miseria tu es--Magnus” (Cicero, Ad Att. ii. 19).

[56] I use the words of Oman.

[57] Pliny (vi. 26) says that some £400,000 in money was conveyed to India each year in exchange for goods which were sold for one hundred times that amount.

[58] Horace, Od. 1, 2.

[59] Ferrero writes: “The Queen of Egypt plays a strange and significant part in the tragedy of the Roman Republic.... She desired to become Cæsar’s wife, and she hoped to awaken in him the passion for kingship.” But this is a passing comment.

[60] No Englishman is troubled by the knowledge that the mother of his king is a Dane, and no Spaniard is worried by the thought that his sovereign has married an Englishwoman. The kinship between Roman and Greek was as close as these.

[61] Porphyry, writing several generations later, states that he died by Cleopatra’s treachery; but he is evidently simply quoting Josephus. Porphyry says that he died in the eighth year of Cleopatra’s reign and the fourth year of his own reign. This is confirmed by an inscription which I observed in Prof. Petrie’s collection and published in ‘Receuil de Traveaux’. This records an event which took place “In the ninth year of the reign of Cleopatra ... [a lacuna] ... Cæsarion.” The lacuna probably reads, “... and in the first (or second) year of the reign of ...” This inscription shows that in the Queen’s ninth year Cæsarion was already her consort, which confirms Porphyry’s statement.

[62] Kaiser, Czar, &c.

[63] Cymbeline.

[64] Both Hammonios and Sarapion are common Egyptian names.

[65] This may mean that Cleopatra had gone to some other part of Rome either permanently or temporarily.

[66] Suetonius: Cæsar, 76.

[67] The action _februare_ means “to purify,” here used probably to signify the magical expurgation of the person struck and the banishing of the evil influences which prevented fertility.

[68] Compare also the whip carried by a Sixth Dynasty noble named Ipe, Cairo Museum, No. 61, which seems more than a simple fly-flap.

[69] The Egyptian word is _mes_.

[70] Plutarch: Brutus.

[71] According to Suetonius, the Queen had now been sent back to Egypt, but a letter from Cicero, written in the following month, shows that she was in Rome until then.

[72] The site is near the present Campo dei Fiori.

[73] Plutarch: Cæsar.

[74] Page 162.

[75] Appian.

[76] Some authors state that he cried “Et tu, Brute”; others that the words “my son” were added; while yet others do not record any words at all.

[77] Ferrero has shown that March 19th was a day of _feriae publicae_, when the funeral could not take place. It could not well have been postponed later than the next day after this.

[78] Page 170.

[79] Which, as will be seen, he ultimately attempted to do.

[80] See page 235, where I suggest that Serapion had possibly decided to throw in his lot with Arsinoe, who perhaps claimed the kingdom of Cyprus, and to assist the party of Brutus and Cassius against that of Antony which Cleopatra would probably support.

[81] Found at Tor Sapienza, outside the Porta Maggiore. The best gold and silver coins of Antony, issued by Cnæus Domitius Ahenobarbus, correspond with the bust in all essentials.

[82] It is satisfactory to read that Lucilius remained his devoted friend until the end.

[83] St Paul was also trained in this school.

[84] The elephant’s head I describe from that seen upon the Queen’s vessel shown upon the coins.

[85] The recipe for the preparation of incense of about this period is inscribed upon a wall of the temple of Philæ, and shows a vast number of ingredients.

[86] Plutarch: Antony.

[87] Hor. 1. ii. Sat. 3.

[88] Josephus says Ephesus, Appian Miletus.

[89] Page 275.

[90] Ferrero.

[91] Marquardt: Privatleben, p. 409.

[92] Page 59.

[93] Prof. Ferrero and others have already pointed this out.

[94] Page 160.

[95] See pp. 196, 197, 291, 305.

[96] The suggestion that an actual marriage took place was first made by Letronne, was confirmed by Kromayer, and was accepted by Ferrero.

[97] Page 298.

[98] Brocardus: Descriptio Terræ Sanctæ, xiii.

[99] Page 275.

[100] Fulvia, it will be remembered (page 255), employed 3000 cavalry as a bodyguard under similar circumstances.

[101] This passage is sometimes quoted to show that no definite marriage had taken place at Antioch; but it only indicates that the marriage to Cleopatra was not accepted as legal in Rome.

[102] For the governing of his Eastern Empire Antony found it convenient to make his headquarters at Alexandria during the winter and Syria during the summer, and his movements to and fro were not due to pressing circumstances. The whole Court moved with him, just as, for example, at the present day the Viceregal Court of India moves from Calcutta to Simla. Thutmosis III. and other great Pharaohs of Egypt had gone over to Syria in the summer in this manner.

[103] Velleius Paterculus.

[104] I here adopt the statement of Dion, and not that of Plutarch.

[105] Page 286.

[106] I suppose the “purple stone” referred to by Lucan was the famous imperial porphyry from the quarries of Gebel Dukhan, though I am not certain that the stone was used as early as this. Cf. my expedition to these quarries described in my ‘Travels in the Upper Egyptian Deserts.’

[107] Even Athenæus refers to Antony as being _married_ to Cleopatra; and the reader must remember that, not the fact of the marriage, but only the date at which it occurred, is at all open to question. I do not think this is generally recognised.

[108] Ferrero thinks he went direct to Ephesus, but Bouché-Leclercq and others are of opinion that he went first to Alexandria, and with this I agree.

[109] Page 262.

[110] Page 162.

[111] Plutarch.

[112] Page 296.

[113] Propertius. Canopus was an Egyptian port with a reputation much like that once held by the modern Port Said. Anubis was the Egyptian jackal-god, connected with the ritual of the dead.

[114] An earlier eunuch of the same name, it will be remembered, played an important part in Cleopatra’s youth.

[115] The numbers given by the early authors are very contradictory, but Plutarch states that Octavian reported the capture of three hundred ships.

[116] Not upon the sixty Egyptian ships, as Plutarch states: that is an evident mistake, as the proportion of numbers per ship will at once show.

[117] The fact that Dellius knew something of the plans for the battle fixes the date of his desertion to this period, as Ferrero has pointed out.

[118] Dion Cassius states (though he afterwards contradicts himself by speaking of the Queen’s panic) that Antony had agreed to fly to Egypt with Cleopatra, and this view is upheld by Ferrero, Bouché-Leclercq, and others; but I do not consider it probable. One can understand Antony flying after the departing Queen in the agony and excitement of the moment; but it is difficult to believe that such a movement was the outcome of a carefully considered plan of action, for all are agreed that previous to the battle of Actium his chances of success had been very fair. If the two had arranged to retire to Egypt together, why was Cleopatra’s treasure, but not his own, shipped; and why did they refuse to speak to one another for three whole days? Ferrero thinks that he had arranged amicably with Cleopatra to retire to Egypt with her, and that the naval battle had not gone much against him; but surely it is difficult to suppose that he would deliberately desert his huge army and his undefeated navy for strategic reasons.

[119] Scholz: Reise zwischen Alex. und Parætonium.

[120] Pliny, Epist. iii. 16.

[121] In a very similar manner Herod, who had taken the part of Antony and who now feared that Octavian would dethrone him in favour of the earlier sovereign, Hyrcanus, put that claimant to death, so that Octavian, as Josephus indicates, should not find it easy to fill Herod’s place.

[122] I found the remains of this fortress on an island behind the Governorat at Suez.

[123] Page 116.

[124] Plutarch definitely states this, and I here use the fact as one of the main arguments in my suppositions in regard to Cleopatra’s plans.

[125] I do not think it could have been begun to be built at this time, although Plutarch says so: it would have taken many months to complete. It was more probably already in existence.

[126] Page 272.

[127] Page 130.

[128] Page 147.

[129] I do not think that the celebrations of this anniversary which now took place could possibly have occurred later than the middle of April, and therefore Cæsarion could not have been born later than the beginning of July, an argument which bears on the length of Julius Cæsar’s stay in Egypt, discussed on page 128. It seems always to have been thought that the holding of the anniversary this year was anti-dated for political reasons, but it will be seen that the actual date was adhered to.

[130] Page 246.

[131] I fancy that the word asp is used in error, for I should think it much more probable that the deadly little horned viper was meant.

[132] In view of the activities of the Arabs of Petra, it is unlikely that she sent him by the sea route from Suez, which was little used by the merchants.

[133] Page 118.

[134] When dying she is said to have regretted that she did not seek safety in flight.

[135] This seems clearly indicated by Plutarch.

[136] Dion Cassius suggests that Cleopatra did attempt to play into Octavian’s hands, but the accusation is quite unfounded, and is an obvious one to make against the hated enemy.

[137] This fact, the significance of which has been overlooked, is an interesting indication of Cleopatra’s definite claim to be a manifestation of Venus-Aphrodite-Isis. See pp. 121, 144, 228.

[138] The sounds perhaps came from Octavian’s outposts, which were just outside the Gate of Canopus.

[139] Page 366.

[140] Plutarch does not give Serapis as one of the reasons of Octavian’s clemency, but Dion says this was so.

[141] Page 355.

[142] Plutarch tells us that this doctor wrote a full account of these last scenes, from which he evidently quotes.

[143] Dion Cassius.

[144] Octavian now always spoke of the Dictator as his father, and he called himself “Cæsar.”

[145] Plutarch. It is very probable that Cleopatra’s doctor, Olympus, was by her side, and afterwards wrote these words down in the diary which we know Plutarch used.

[146] The following evidence as to the manner of the Queen’s death is given by Plutarch, and it is clear that it was the result of an investigation such as I have described.

[147] Page 365.

[148] In hieroglyphs this reads _Aut’k’r’d’r K’s’r’s_.

[149] Strabo, xvii. i. 14; Tacitus, Hist. i. 11.

[150] This was said to have been due to a bribe received from one of Cleopatra’s friends, but it was more probably political.

[151] Page 174.

[152] Tacitus, Hist., v. 9.

Transcriber’s Notes

Text on cover added by Transcriber and placed in the Public Domain. The original cover appears at the beginning of some versions of this eBook; in this version, it is represented by “”.

Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained.

Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.

Page 8: The quotation beginning with “had an irrestible charm” had no closing quotation mark. Transcriber added one after “her voice when she spoke.” It may belong earlier, after “certain piquancy.”

In the Genealogy Chart, “CLEOPATRA VII.” was printed in all-caps boldface, which is represented here by asterisks. Other all-caps names originally were printed in small-caps.

Footnote 129, originally footnote 3 on page 361: “anti-dated” was printed that way.