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.
[Illustration:
_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.
[Illustration:
LAGOS.
|
+--------+
|
FIRST HUSBAND. = BERENICE I., = PTOLEMY I.,
| grandniece | Soter I.,
| of Antipater | a General of
| of Macedon. | Alexander the
| | Great, afterwards
| | King of Egypt.
| |
+----------------+ +-------+-----+
| | |
MAGAS, = APAMA ARSINOE II., = PTOLEMY II., = ARSINOE I.,
King | of second wife Philadelphus, | first wife,
of | Syria. and sister, King of Egypt. | daughter of
Cyrene. | first | Lysimachos,
| _married_ to | King of
| Lysimachos, | Thrace.
| King of Thrace. |
| |
+---------------+ +-------------+
| |
BERENICE II. = PTOLEMY III.,
| Euergetes I.,
| King of Egypt.
|
+---------+-------+-------------------+
| | |
ANTIOCHOS PTOLEMY IV., = ARSINOE III. MAGAS.
the Great, Philopator, |
King of King of Egypt. |
Syria. |
| |
+-----+ +-------------+
| |
CLEOPATRA I. = PTOLEMY V.,
| Epiphanes,
| King of Egypt.
|
+-----+------------------+----------------+--------+
| | | |
PTOLEMY VI., PTOLEMY VII. = CLEOPATRA II. |
Eupator, Philometor, | |
King of Egypt. King of Egypt. | |
| |
| |
+----------------------------+--------+ |
| | |
PTOLEMY VIII., CLEOPATRA III. = PTOLEMY IX., |
Neos Philopator, | Euergetes II., |
King of Egypt. | King of Egypt. |
| |
+----------------+----------------+-----+ |
| | | |
N.N. = PTOLEMY X., = CLEOPATRA IV. SELENE. |
Soter II., | |
King of Egypt. | |
| |
+------------+-+----------------+--------+ |
| | | | |
CLEOPATRA V. = PTOLEMY XIII., = N.N. | BERENICE III. = PTOLEMY XI.,
| Neos Dionysos, | | | Alexander I.,
| “Auletes.” | | | King of Egypt.
| | | |
| | PTOLEMY, |
| | King of |
| | Cyprus. |
| | PTOLEMY XII.,
| | Alexander II.,
| | King of Egypt.
+-------+-------+ +-------+
| | |
CLEOPATRA VI. BERENICE IV., |
_married_ Archelaus, |
High Priest of |
Komana. |
|
+-----------+-------+--------------+----------+
| | | |
PTOLEMY XV., | ARSINOE IV. JULIUS = *CLEOPATRA VII.* = MARCUS
King of Egypt. | CÆSAR. | | ANTONIUS.
| | |
PTOLEMY XIV., | |
King of Egypt. | |
CÆSARION, |
Ptolemy XVI., |
King of Egypt. |
|
+-----------------------+----------------------+-----+
| | |
ALEXANDER HELIOS, CLEOPATRA = JUBA, PTOLEMY.
_married_ Iotapa SELENE. | King of
of Media. | Mauretania.
|
+-----------+-------+
| ?|
PTOLEMY, DRUSILLA. = ANTONIUS FELIX,
King of | Procurator of
Mauretania. | Judæa.
|
^
]
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 “[Illustration]”.
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.