049 - Apollo and Dionysus

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome, episode 49, Apollo and Dionysus. Last time, Antony and Octavian, but really, Antony, defeated the combined armies of Brutus and Cassius at the Battle of Philippi in late 42 BC. Just two years removed from the assassination of Julius Caesar, an assassination that was supposed to herald the return of the Republic, the Romans were as far removed from democracy as they had been under the Tarquins. Power now resided fully in the hands of just three men, Octavian, Antony, and Lepidus. Their word was law, no debate, and no appeal. But of course, it was not the final ambition of any one of the three to rule with colleagues, they all aimed to hold the prize for themselves.

For now, the triple alliance held because their triumph was too fresh not to be threatened on all sides by men who, having submitted, now waited for any opportunity to throw off the triumvirate yoke. But even understanding their precarious position, the dynamic within the triumvirate began to change. Lepidus, who had been left in charge of Italy while the other two triumvirates went east, was about to find himself the odd man out in what had always been a struggle between Octavian and Antony.

After Philippi, the balance of power that would define the next few years of alliance and rivalry between the two lead triumvirates began to shake out. Mark Antony stayed in the east with eight legions, while Octavian took the remaining troops, old Caesarian veterans, and surrendered liberator soldiers alike, back to Italy. The two triumvirates had signed an agreement granting Antony power over the empire east of the Adriatic and Octavian the west, excepting greater Gaul, which remained in Antony's hands. Each would focus on their sphere of influence to solidify power for the triumvirate.

Antony obviously had the more glamorous position. It had long been a Roman ambition to invade Parthia and move the empire into the eastern interior. It was now up to Antony to pick up the baton dropped first by Crassus and then by Julius Caesar and carry it across the finish line. Octavian, meanwhile, was left with the unenviable task of demobilizing tens of thousands of veterans, finding them lands to settle on in an overcrowded continent without any money left in the treasury to purchase the necessary land. While Antony went off to play conquering hero, Octavian was left to play bureaucratic dunce, caught between angry veterans and angry citizens. Plus, the one real internal threat to the triumvirate remaining after Philippi was left Octavian to deal with. Sextus Pompey, the now 25-year-old son of Pompey the Great, had gathered a pirate fleet and taken control of Sicily.

For Antony, it was all eastern queens, never-ending banquets, and planning for greatness. For Octavian, it was grain shortages, general strikes, and angry mobs.

The main problem facing the triumvirate, which was fast becoming a biumvirate, especially now that the rich province of Spain had been taken away from Lepidus and given to Octavian, was that the state coffers were empty. No thought had been spared for the future when the triumvirate built their war machine to face Brutus and Cassius, but, having won now, they were faced with the consequences of victory. In particular, promises of land had been made to the soldiers to entice them into the army in the first place and then keep them there through the hard times. Now the bill was coming due.

In the past, as with Pompey's veterans or Julius Caesar's veterans, the riches won in battle were used to purchase property for the retiring soldiers. Though there was no enshrined eminent domain protection that required the state to pay a fair price for seized land, it was simply practical to do so. It kept hurt feelings to a minimum and left everyone, soldier and citizen alike, relatively happy. But Octavian and Antony had not conquered foreign lands and returned home seated atop a massive pile of cash. They had barely emerged from a bitter civil war that had left them very, very poor, rather than very, very rich.

Back in Rome, Octavian faced a choice, renege on the promise to the some 40,000 soldiers scheduled for retirement, or simply take by force the land needed to keep his word. It should come as no surprise to anyone that in this new world order, where soldiers were the principal currency of politics, that Octavian chose the latter. He marked down sites across Italy to settle the veterans and arbitrarily confiscated the necessary land. Some of the seizures came from large senatorial estates that could absorb the loss. But just as often, the settlement swallowed entire free holdings. Families whose only crime was living where Octavian's finger landed on a map were thrown off their land.

The public was outraged. And as the dispossessed streamed into Rome, where else could they go? Riots broke out between ex-soldiers and evicted citizens. Octavian realized he could only push the civilian population so far before they would come after him with pitchforks. And so he called a halt to the confiscations. But unfortunately, what had been seized already was not enough to satisfy all the veteran claims. So now, rather than facing angry mobs of citizens, Octavian faced angry mobs of ex-soldiers.

On top of everything else, Sextus Pompey, having taken control of Sicily with a fleet that far outgunned anything the Triumvirs could muster at this point, began a blockade of Italy that left the all-important grain supply lines broken. Octavian, in a word, was miserable.

By contrast, out in the eastern provinces, Marc Antony had styled himself as the new incarnation of Dionysus and was doing his best to live up to the ecstatic lifestyle that defined the Greek god of wine and abundance. He indulged endlessly in everything the provinces had to offer, and going far beyond what would be considered good taste back in Rome, the new Dionysus actively joined in the rituals of the eastern mystery cults. Antony traveled slowly from Greece into Asia Minor and settled in Cilicia on the southern coast. From this base of operations, he planned to raise money and men for his invasion of Parthia. But having already bled the provinces dry during the years of civil war, there was little left that Rome could squeeze out of the natives.

Realizing increased taxes weren't getting him anywhere fast, Antony's gaze naturally turned south across the sea to the rich lands of Egypt. Conveniently, now fully in control of her country, Cleopatra had styled herself as the new Isis. In Egyptian mythology, Isis was the sister and wife of Osiris, who had long been seen as an eastern analog for, wait for it, Dionysus. The match was too perfect not to embrace completely. Antony invited Cleopatra to meet with him in Cilicia, and the queen agreed.

The alliance they forged was mutually beneficial. Antony got the revenue stream he needed for his further adventures, and Cleopatra got a new Roman patron to protect her position in Egypt. Julius Caesar had been the personal guarantor of her rule, and with him dead, she needed a powerful ally in Rome to maintain the throne. It was a match made in heaven, literally according to their mutual propaganda campaign. Antony decided to follow Cleopatra to Alexandria for the winner. Beyond the political alliance they cemented, the weather spent in each other's company produced twins.

41 BC arrived chock full of bad news for both triumphers. In Italy, Antony's brother Lucius, who was consul for the year, conspired with Antony's wife Fulvia to foment a rebellion against Octavian. Just how in the loop Mark Antony was remains unclear. Of course he claimed he knew nothing about it, but that was after the fact, after the rebellion failed spectacularly. Certainly, he took no active part in the machinations, he had other things to worry about.

Well aware that the Romans were planning an invasion, the Parthians had launched a preemptive strike into Syria. Antony quickly abandoned his love nest in Alexandria and returned to military life.

The protracted, if ultimately minor, uprising in Italy against Octavian was hatched by Fulvia and Lucius Antony once the breadth of Octavian's political troubles became apparent. The young man was struggling mightily with the thorny issues that come when there is too little land and too little grain, and he was traveling fast down a road of pleasing none of the people, none of the time. To top things off, his aristocratic pampered upbringing had left him with something of a tin ear politically. In the midst of a grain shortage caused by Sextus Pompey's blockade, for example, Octavian attended a lavish banquet where each guest came dressed as a different Greek god. In contrast to Antony's embrace of the indulgent and emotional Dionysus, Octavian came dressed as Apollo, god of light and rationality. Octavian meant only to have a bit of fun and begin the process of associating himself publicly with the divine Apollo, but instead the public was outraged that while they starved self-styled gods were eating all the food.

If public opinion polls had existed, Octavian's numbers would have been in the toilet. So Fulvia and Lucius Antony stirred up resentment amongst the struggling veterans while simultaneously picking up the cause of the dispossessed and now starving ex-freeholders. They managed to raise some legions of disgruntled citizens and sent word around to the standing armies loyal to Antony that this was all being done with his approval. But the Antonian generals were skeptical and held back from what was clearly a half-baked scheme to oust Octavian. They were talking about directly assaulting the heir of Julius Caesar. He may be unpopular, but still, that was not a thing done lightly. If it was what Antony wanted, so be it, but let the orders come from him. Until then, they were staying put.

Octavian sent his friend Agrippa to deal with the floundering rebel army, which holed up in the fortress town of Perugia in central Italy. After a long siege, the town finally fell to Octavian's forces. It was a minor victory against a weak opponent, but it had the effect of giving Octavian a military victory in his own right, without anyone being able to point to a more senior officer who really won the battle, even though Agrippa really won the battle. It was an important legitimizing moment for the young statesman, who badly needed a legitimizing moment.

Lucius Antony committed suicide just as Perugia fell, and Fulvia went into exile. She died of an illness the next year in Greece, after an emotional confrontation with Antony, who blamed her for the whole unnecessary fiasco. In her attempt to exploit Octavian's weakness, she had left him stronger than ever.

Perhaps smarting from the unexpected betrayal by the Antonys, and also glowing with renewed confidence, in early 40 BC, Octavian broke a clear provision in his agreement with Antony to leave Gaul alone. The governor of the province, a staunch Antonian general named Calenus, suddenly died, and without consulting his triumvirate partner, Octavian went north and took command of the eleven legions stationed there. The move was nothing less than an act of war so far as Antony was concerned.

Leaving the east in the hands of his capable lieutenants, Antony immediately headed back to Italy to confront his young colleague. With Octavian seemingly intent on breaking the triumvirate, Antony simultaneously sent out feelers to Sextus Pompey in Sicily looking for an alliance. He found the young Republican amenable to a joint operation, and Antony signaled that Sextus should harass the coast of Italy at will to put pressure on Octavian. Antony also picked up the support of the Republican fleet that had once upon a time blockaded the Adriatic prior to the Battle of Philippi. In what was shaping up to be the final showdown between Antony and Octavian, the old Republicans were clearly casting their lot with Antony.

In an attempt to blunt the efforts of Antony's diplomacy, Octavian decided that it was high time he took a wife and arranged a marriage with the widowed Scribania. She was a much older woman and seemed a poor match until you consider that she was also Sextus Pompey's aunt-in-law. In the highly familial world of Roman politics, Octavian was signaling his own willingness to ally with Sextus. At the very least, he hoped to make the young admiral think twice before taking sides against his new uncle.

Antony and his fleet arrived in Brundisium and found the city locked up tight by Octavian's garrison. A siege began, and Octavian hurried down with his armies to assess the situation. Was this the beginning of the end of the triumvirate?

In an interesting turn of events, the answer turned out to be an emphatic no. Centurions in both camps had had enough of civil war. They had had enough of killing each other. They were friends, neighbors, comrades, in some cases family. Enough was enough. You know the old saying, what if they threw a war and no one showed up? At Brundisium, that's exactly what happened. The centurions went to their respective commanders and said, look, you do what you want, but we're not going to battle. We would suggest coming to some kind of agreement, because the only way this is going to end now if you both refuse to compromise is some kind of single combat gladiatorial deathmatch for control of the empire, which is fine, we'll cheer you on, but we're not doing your fighting for you anymore.

Left mutually defenseless, Antony and Octavian decided to deal. The triumvirate alliance was reconfirmed and the east-west power sharing was formalized, with Antony crucially conceding Gaul to Octavian. Lepidus still hung in there in his official triumvirate and was granted the province of Africa, but by now he was irrelevant. The third wheel triumvirate will make one last big play to get back in the game after the campaign against Sextus Pompey in Sicily, but it will only net him a forced retirement.

The treaty was met with relief by the people of Rome and further celebrated when news came of the final deal sealer. Newly widowed Antony would wed Octavian's sister, Octavia. The triumvirate was one big happy family again. They all returned to Rome together to celebrate the coming nuptials.

Meanwhile, Sextus Pompey, who had so recently been courted by both triumvirates, was now out in the political cold again and returned to his blockade. But though he was not going to play the part of kingmaker, his strangulation of the grain supply routes was taking its toll on Rome and the triumvirates came under immense pressure to come to terms with him. After initially refusing any compromise, the triumvirate finally bowed to the ever-rising grain prices and in the summer of 39 BC invited Pompey to the bargaining table. In exchange for lifting the blockade, the triumvirates offered to legalize his hold over Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, making the young man governor of all three islands. In addition, they would slate him for a consulship the next year. After mulling it over, Sextus agreed.

By legalizing Sextus, the triumvirates also invited back into the fold all the republican exiles who had fled to his banner. Prescribed families, lucky to get out of Rome alive, were now allowed to return to their homes. One young family who took the triumvirate up on their offer of clemency was Tiberius Claudius Nero, his 19-year-old wife Livia Drusilla, and their infant son, also named Tiberius. They had been on the run since Tiberius the Elder had joined and then fled from Fulvia's ill-advised revolt two years before. Tiberius was something of a doofus who always managed to find himself on the wrong side of any given fight, going back to his stance against the first triumvirate 15 years earlier.

His only lasting contribution to Roman history was the fact that he agreed to a divorce when Octavian announced that he intended to marry Livia, having fallen madly in love with her at first sight. The only complication was that both Livia and Scribonia were pregnant. Devoid of sentimentality, Octavian divorced Scribonia on the day she gave birth to his only biological child, a daughter named Julia, in October 39 BC. He and Livia were wed three days after she gave birth to her second son, Drusus.

With these marital ties lined up, the Julio-Claudian dynasty that we have all come to know and love finally fell into place. The infant Tiberius would, in time, be adopted by Augustus and then inherit the throne, becoming Rome's second emperor. His brother, Drusus, was the father of Claudius, grandfather of Caligula, and great-grandfather of Nero. Germanicus is in there too, but we'll get to all that.

Almost immediately after securing the treaty with the triumvirate, Sexus realized that he had made a terrible deal. He was already in control of Sicily, Corsica, and Sardinia. There was nothing the triumvirate could have done about that, so he had bargained for control over things he already controlled. In return, he had given up the mantle of last defender of the republic. The money and support that flooded his way for playing this part suddenly dried up. All his allies had returned home or given up on him.

Octavian was no fan of the agreement either, but with the situation in the west finally settled, Antony clapped down on any talk of further aggression against Sextus. He needed things quiet in Rome if he was ever going to get the eternally delayed Parthian campaign off the ground.

Just by 38 BC, with Antony back in the east planning his war and Sextus disrupting the grain supply again in an attempt to stay relevant, Octavian decided to ignore his colleagues' wishes and deal with the meddlesome Pompey once and for all. With the defection of one of Sextus' top captains, Octavian decided to strike while the iron was hot. He now knew where young Pompey was and exactly what his defenses were. If he could clear Sextus off the table quickly, Antony would return from the east with Octavian's undisputed ruler of the Western Empire. It was a seductive thought, and so he voided the treaty with Sextus and attacked.

Octavian planned a two-pronged assault of Sicily. He ordered a fleet led by Sextus' ex-captain to sail south and attack the north coast of the island. Meanwhile, the triumvirate himself would lead another force in from the east. He hoped to quickly pin Sextus down in Massana, just across the straits from mainland Italy. But this initial thrust turned into a complete debacle. The fleet coming south was challenged, defeated, and forced to retreat. Octavian quickly shifted his plans and decided to try to rush through the straits of Massana and link up with the retreating fleet. Two prongs were nice, but if this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought, one great big prong was better than two little prongs. But Octavian was an inexperienced naval commander, and as soon as he set sail, Sextus pounced and drove Octavian's fleet into the rocks. Octavian barely escaped with his life. Most of his fleet was either on fire or dashed on the rocks. In a cruel twist of fate, the next morning Octavian and the survivors awoke to a sudden storm and what few ships they had left sunk.

Octavian struck while the iron was hot all right, and it burned him badly.

Confused but undeterred, Octavian called for Agrippa to help plan a new invasion. To give his friend all the resources he needed, Octavian had the 26-year-old appointed consul for the year 37 BC. That whole year was spent building a new fleet. But because Octavian wanted to lull Sextus into a false sense of security, and because any attempt to construct anything in a regular port would likely be harassed by constant attack, Agrippa designed and built canals linking an inland lake to the sea. Then, under the cover of a dense forest, out of sight, he built and trained a massive new navy on the lake.

Of more immediate importance to Octavian, on January 1, 37 BC, the same day that Agrippa assumed the consulship, the term of the second triumvirate officially expired. He and Antony were still in power, obviously, but technically they had no standing within the political system. So a summit was scheduled to work out the details of renewing the pact. Antony returned from the east and his opening skirmishes with the Parthians in the spring, and at Tarentum, he and Octavian met and hashed out the terms. It was roughly the same deal as before, Octavian would control the west, and Antony the east. This time, rather than sealing the deal with a marriage, a troop exchange was arranged. Antony needed ships for his war with Sextus, and Antony needed ground legions for his invasion of Parthia. So Antony traded 120 ships for four of Octavian's legions.

But in a move that would sow the seeds for the demise of the triumvirate, while Antony duly sent the ships, Octavian refused to live up to his end of the bargain and never sent the promised legions. Antony was furious at the betrayal, and it destroyed whatever trust he had left in his partner for good. War between them was now inevitable. It was just a matter of time.

Agrippa shepherded the renewal of the triumvirate through the senate and the assemblies, and having placed his friend back in official power, returned to the fleet that he would lead against Sextus. In the spring of 36 BC, the 300 ships, each bigger than anything Sextus commanded and equipped with the latest in grappling hook technology, sailed out into the Mediterranean.

For this latest attempt to conquer Sicily, Octavian now envisioned a three-pronged assault. With Agrippa attacking the north coast, he ordered Lepidus to land ten legions on the southern coast and begin capturing as much territory as possible. With Sextus busy fighting on two fronts, Octavian himself would ferry more ground legions across the straits. Sextus would be overwhelmed.

At first things went great. Lepidus landed and began capturing city after city. But when Agrippa attacked from the north, Sextus suspected that it was just a feint meant to distract from whatever Octavian was up to. So he left just enough ships to make a nice show of fighting Agrippa and led the rest around the Horn into the straits of Masana. Octavian, thinking he had outsmarted Sextus, had landed with a force to establish a beachhead and then found himself trapped by the sudden appearance of Sextus's fleet.

Braving possible capture, Octavian slipped through the blockade in a small ship to link back up with the rest of his army. It was do or die time now. He had to get the rest of his army into Sicily or all would be lost. Rumors were already filtering in that Lepidus was talking alliance with Sextus. Octavian needed to fill the island with his own men before any deal was struck. Luckily though, Sextus was spread thin and only had 300 ships left at his disposal. With so many blockading the straits, he was forced to leave some of the northern ports defenseless. Agrippa was able to easily capture and hold them. Octavian hooked back up with his legions on the mainland and sailed them north to land under the protection of Agrippa's fleet. Pretty soon, the transfer was complete.

Totally outnumbered on land, Sextus gathered all of his ships at his stronghold in Masana. The only hope he had left now was to provoke a sea battle. In early September, he led his ships out of the harbor and went looking for Agrippa. The two fleets met off the northeast coast of the island near the city of Nalochis. On paper, it was an even engagement, east side controlling 300 ships, but Agrippa's fleet was larger and more powerful. It was by no means a one-sided affair, but throughout the whole day's fighting, Sextus lost ships at a slightly faster rate. By the end of the day, the Pompeian captains determined that the cause was lost and began to surrender to Agrippa rather than keep fighting.

With his navy captured, it was all over for Sextus. He took the 17 ships that remained uncaptured and sailed east. Over the course of the next year, he tried to find asylum and allies, but was rebuked at every turn. Unwilling to surrender, he was eventually captured in Anatolia and executed by a provincial governor loyal to the Triumvirate.

After Agrippa's victory at Nalochis, Octavian now stood alone in the west. There was no one left to challenge his rule. Well, almost no one. Lepidus, who had conquered most of Sicily during the invasion, suddenly decided to reassert himself in the Triumvirate. He claimed by right of conquest Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, and demanded that Octavian recognize his claim. Octavian scoffed at this notion. He had not gone through all this trouble to take Sicily just to give it away to a rival. He sent men into the ranks of Lepidus' legions to sow dissent. Lepidus, who was never very popular with the average grunt, watched in horror as his legions began to desert from his banner en masse.

Without any leverage left, Lepidus met with Octavian and rescinded his claim. Octavian, seizing an opportunity to eliminate Lepidus from the balance of power, decided to unilaterally expel him from the Triumvirate as punishment. From now on, though the name never caught on, it truly was a biumvirate. Lepidus retired to a plush estate on the Italian coast and lived another 20 years in comfortable obscurity.

Next week, we'll head east to trace the ups and downs of Antony's campaigns against the Parthians. But as I said before, it was more downs than ups. The apex of Antony's career was the Battle of Philippi. Everything after that was just a slow descent into ruin.

Completely in control of the West now, Octavian would use every tool at his disposal to turn public opinion against his colleague, particularly harping on the fact that Antony seemed to be going native, dressing in Eastern fashion, and living a life of scandalous adultery with Cleopatra. Octavian told anyone who would listen that the new Dionysus had lost touch with Roman values that were, of course, exemplified by Octavian, the new Apollo.