Marching With Caesar-Antony and Cleopatra: Part I-Antony, page 28
Once the fleet was repaired, Octavian tried again, shifting his tactics somewhat to try to defeat Sextus through the overwhelming superiority of land forces and pin Sextus in his main port of Messana by cutting off the rest of the island. Using their fleets, Agrippa and Octavian would blockade the port to trap Sextus in the city with a combination of Lepidus’ Legions and Legions that Octavian would land on the eastern coast of Sicily. To do this, he would have to cross the narrow strait between Scolacium and Tauromenium where his slow transports would have no chance against the warships of Sextus’ fleet. The only way to neutralize Sextus’ fleet was with Agrippa, who was ordered to try drawing Sextus’ fleet into a battle off the northern coast of Sicily, which would allow Octavian to slip past to land at Tauromenium. To support this operation, Lepidus was ordered to bring up the other four Legions from Africa, but Sextus intercepted that fleet with a small force he had patrolling the sea between Sicily and Africa, two Legions being drowned before ever setting foot on dry land. The other two managed to land, but were in complete disarray. Octavian was scouting in his own vessel and saw that most of Sextus’ fleet was now on the north side of Sicily, so he gave the order for Agrippa to engage the enemy. The senior Consul did, and there followed a battle in which Agrippa took the upper hand, but was far from being decisive, so Sextus was able to withdraw with most of his fleet in good order. More importantly, Sextus divined what the Triumvir and his chief admiral were about, so keeping part of his fleet in place to fool Agrippa he sailed with the bulk of it to Messana, where he would lay in wait for what he had determined to be the main thrust of the attack. Meanwhile, Octavian received word that Agrippa was completely successful instead of partially, so instead of crossing at night, which would have been the prudent thing to do, he ordered his fleet composed of both troop transports and warships, to cross in broad daylight. This, of course, was what Sextus was waiting for.
Proving that some of Pompey Magnus’ blood ran through him, Sextus did not do what might have been expected by attacking the fleet while it was still at sea, which would have allowed many of the Triumvir’s troops to escape in the confusion. Instead, he waited to let Octavian reach Tauromenium and begin unloading his army before striking with a combination of his navy and land forces. It could have been a complete and total victory; while Octavian’s army was landing and starting on their camp, from the north came Sextus’ cavalry by land, along with his fleet from the same direction by sea. From the south was Sextus’ Legions, yet for some reason the commander of Sextus’ Legions did nothing, while only his cavalry harried Octavian’s forces. Neither did Sextus’ fleet, which also held back and did not engage Octavian’s ships forced to be at anchor as the army made camp, instead letting them discharge their cargo before making way back out to deeper water. Sextus could have crushed Octavian’s army and trapped him on shore, but instead Octavian took the opportunity to escape in a Liburnian and join the fleet, while his army, despite the constant harassment from Sextus’ cavalry was able to build a fortified camp by working through the night. With his army now safe for the moment, Octavian’s greatest danger came from Sextus himself, who finally sailed out with his fleet to engage the Triumvir, inflicting heavy damage, only being stopped by nightfall.
Octavian was left afloat amid the wreckage of a number of his ships, cut off from Sicily, so he made for the mainland with Sextus in hot pursuit. He made it ashore, but he was forced to hide from shore parties sent to hunt him down and kill him. Octavian survived by spending the night in a cave in the hills with only one of his slaves with him. The next day he was walking along the coast road when he spotted the sails of some ships and, thinking that they were part of his fleet, ran down to the shore to signal them, only to discover that they were in fact Sextus’ ships, forcing the young Triumvir to run for his life again. Somehow, he made his way back to his camp with the help of strangers who sheltered and guided him there, where after a day or two of rest he recovered, then prepared to start again.
While Octavian and Agrippa were planning their next move, the stranded army on Sicily, led by Cornificius, was facing a situation where they were surrounded by Sextus’ army without any resupply from the sea. Realizing that staying put would not solve his problem, Cornificius burned the boats beached near his camp, then began marching in the direction of the northern coast, crossing the flank of the volcano Mount Etna. The whole way he was harassed by Sextus’ cavalry, which on the third day was joined by Sextus himself, who brought the infantry. Cornificius suffered losses in dribs and drabs, and while at first men refused to leave their comrades behind, after a time the burden of carrying the wounded slowed them down too much, so they were left behind to be butchered by Sextus’ men. Still, Cornificius managed to lead his ever-shrinking army to a spot on the northern coast to wait for some form of aid from either Agrippa or Octavian. That succor came from Agrippa, who had followed up his own victory over Sextus by landing on the northern coast with the troops assigned to him, taking the towns of Tyndarus and Mylae. Almost as quickly as he had it, Sextus lost the advantage, when Octavian finally brought the rest of his own army over to Sicily, and now commanded 23 Legions, 5,000 cavalry and 20,000 auxiliaries. Sextus was forced to retreat to the only major port and city under his command, Messana in the northeastern tip of the island. Penned up there as Octavian consolidated his hold on the island, Sextus’ options were reduced to only one, to launch an all-out attack with his navy to try breaking the blockade to extract his fleet and army, and in early September, that is what he attempted. The Battle of Naulochus was fought in plain view of the respective land forces of both sides, who instead of fighting each other, chose to watch the naval battle from the shore. When I was told of this, I did not understand it, until a day a few years later when I found myself doing the same thing. What I realize now is that everyone on both sides knew that the naval battle was the one that would decide the outcome of not just this engagement, but the whole war, so what was the point of risking your life when it ultimately did not matter whether or not your part of the battle was won?
Consequently, they stood on the shore watching, each side cheering for their rowing comrades as the battle raged back and forth. The fighting lasted most of the day, until finally Agrippa and his fleet gained the upper hand, breaking the enemy formation to start a rout. Much like a battle on land, the real slaughter only begins when one side’s cohesion is lost by the inevitable step backwards, taken by first one man then another until the formation breaks into pieces. In the case of the naval engagement, it’s a ship instead of a man, but the principle is the same. There is strength in the unity of a compact formation, but the moment one captain allows his vessel to lag behind the others, or even worse gives the orders to reverse oars and pull out of the line, he dooms his comrades. Seeing what was happening on the water caused much confusion and consternation among Sextus’ ranks, while Octavian’s forces raised their voices in salute to Agrippa’s victory. Sextus, seeing that all was lost on the sea, ordered his own ship back to Messana, assuring the victory of Octavian. This was when the real slaughter began as captains either tried to make a break for it on the open sea, or rowed their ships onto the beach, where they and their crews were cut down by the troops waiting on shore. The commander of Sextus’ cavalry immediately went over to Octavian, as did at least one Legion, yet somehow Sextus managed to slip away in the night aboard his fastest ship with nothing but as much money as he could carry and his young daughter. It would be expected that Octavian would have ordered his entire fleet to hunt Sextus down, but it was at this moment that Lepidus chose to demonstrate once and for all that he was Rome’s biggest fool.
Lepidus had been stewing in Africa for the last few years, no doubt convincing himself that he was just as worthy a candidate to be First Man as either Octavian or Antonius were. However, until he came to Sicily, he had no opportunity to try and show it. Puffed up by his success in taking Lilybaeum, he ignored the fact that the Legions of Sextus that he defeated there were the dregs of the Roman army, consisting almost entirely of deserters and men considered unfit for service in the true Legions, along with escaped slaves. Lepidus began making plans for his own campaign to take over first the island of Sicily, then the rest of the Roman world. He did have a large army, with about a third composed of veteran Legions, mostly the boys of the Thirties, as we referred to the Legions numbered Thirty and higher. The most senior Legion in Lepidus’ army was none other than the star-crossed 14th, which had been wiped out under the command of Sabinus back in Gaul now almost 20 years before. The veterans of the second enlistment of this Legion were scheduled for discharge, but had been enticed by Lepidus to remain under the standard with the same kind of promises of huge bounties that had worked so well for Octavian. The rest of his force was composed of Legions recruited from the Romans of Africa and were green as grass, but he had a lot of them, as well as those Numidians who gave us so many problems almost ten years before.
Despite his ineptitude, Lepidus managed his part of the Sicilian campaign competently enough, which I put down to the fact that he had some capable, experienced Legates and senior Centurions. My opinion may be biased yet it is also supported by the evidence of Lepidus’ actions, when he marched into a blocking position in time for the Battle of Naulochus. His army was part of the force gathered on the shore and managed to be the first to get to the gates of Messana, where the defenders threw open the gates to him and surrendered, whereupon he immediately showed his profound stupidity. Somehow, Lepidus got the idea into his head to convince these men to swear allegiance to him, temporarily swelling his army to a size of more than 20 Legions, though he either refused or was too stupid to recognize how practically worthless in battle most of that army was. With these reinforcements, such as they were, he managed to convince himself that he was now in the stronger position. None of this would have happened if Octavian had been present at that moment, but he was not. His absence was again the subject of much talk and speculation, particularly on the part of Antonius and his agents.
Similarly as at Philippi, Octavian had been struck by one of his bouts of illness the night before the battle, at least that was the story put out by Octavian’s agents. Naturally, Antonius did not see it that way, in fact paying to have a series of verses written that his agents recited at every inn and around the Legion fires that mocked and ridiculed Octavian, calling him a coward. I will make no comment about this matter, since I was not there and I have lived this long and have no desire to end my days by some accident, but it is not treason to say that Octavian’s absence no doubt emboldened Lepidus to take the actions that he did. For a period of a few watches, Lepidus was ruler of Sicily and was thereby the strongest man in Rome. Nevertheless, when word reached Octavian of his colleague’s actions, he made a miraculous recovery, and what he did next makes the accusation of personal cowardice ring hollow in any fair man’s ears. Agrippa was still at sea, so Octavian, with only a few of his companions and dressed in plain tunic and cloak, came to Lepidus’ camp, asking permission to enter, which was granted by an undoubtedly confused commander of the guard. I can only imagine the dilemma of seeing one of the Triumvirs approaching the camp of another who has for all intents and purposes declared war. I am sure that the calculation of the relative worth and abilities of each entered into the commander’s thinking, because the gate was opened and Octavian allowed entry. Octavian then began walking among the men, calling to them to honor the agreement made between the Triumvirs to cooperate, but more than anything just showing them that he was unafraid, which always has a powerful effect among fighting men. It did not hurt that I am sure that the veterans among the army saw the vision of Caesar walking among them, so much so that many of them saluted him as their true commander. However, there are always toadies and lickspittles so that when Lepidus, hearing the uproar, ran from his tent to see what Octavian was doing, he ordered some of these scum to hurl their javelins at the other Triumvir, which they did. Some of Octavian’s companions were struck down, two of them being killed, while one javelin reportedly struck Octavian before miraculously bouncing off his chest, which many of the men put down to divine intervention. Personally, I suspect it had more to do with what Octavian was wearing under his tunic. Whatever the case, Octavian was unhurt, but forced to flee. Despite it appearing to be a defeat, in reality his actions and courage in daring to appear in the enemy camp, along with Lepidus’ own cowardly actions in ordering men to do what he should have done on his own by facing Octavian with sword in hand, turned out to be a victory for Octavian as men began talking among themselves.
It did not take long for sentiment to turn against Lepidus, the atmosphere becoming so hostile that Lepidus, fearing for his own skin, made his own journey to Octavian’s camp, where he threw himself down at Octavian’s feet, begging to be saved from his own men. Octavian had every right to execute Lepidus on the spot for ordering his own attempted murder, but one thing that Octavian had gleaned from his walk through the camp of Lepidus was the men’s desire for the fighting between Romans to end. We were all tired of the prospect of facing other Romans and though if we were ordered to do so we would do our duty, it held no appeal to us. So, instead of doing what I am sure he wanted to do, Octavian brought Lepidus to his feet, doing no more than sending him back to the mainland as a private citizen, with a suggestion to Lepidus that it was best for him to retire from public life. Despite having every reason to do so, Octavian did not even strip Lepidus of his title as Pontifex Maximus, though he was never allowed within the sacred precincts of Rome. He spent the rest of his days in Circeii, where he died not too long ago, making the world a little better place. With the removal of Lepidus, there were only two players on the stage, Octavian now undisputed master of Rome, Italia, and Africa. While this drama in the West was being played out, Marcus Antonius was leading us into disaster, death, and ruin in the wastes of Parthia.
Chapter 5- Parthia
Antonius finally arrived in the East for the third, and what would turn out to be the final time, it being his destiny never to see Rome again. He came just after the beginning of the same year as the Battle of Naulochus, which at the time of his arrival was still several months in the future, bringing with him levies of fresh troops and a huge surprise for me. Antonius installed himself at Antioch, giving immediate orders for our part of the army in Damascus to relocate there, in preparation for the invasion, which appeared finally to be moving forward. The news that we would be leaving Damascus was not the kind of thing that could stay secret for long, even for the time it took me to walk from the camp to the market where Miriam was working that day. I approached the stall, where she was standing at the front of it as if she were waiting for me. Drawing closer, I could see that she was trembling, obviously struggling to keep her composure. Hashem was standing in the stall, holding the knife he used to slice off hunks of meat, his face clearly showing a desire to use it to slice something off of me.
Not seeing any point in denying or avoiding the subject, I said, “I suppose you’ve heard.”
She did not say anything, just nodded her head, looking up at me with eyes full of unshed tears, and I felt horrible.
“Miriam,” I said gently, “you knew this day was going to come, that I would have to leave. I’ve never hidden that from you, have I?”
“No,” she said sadly, dropping her head so I could not see her face, which somehow made it worse. “You have always been honest that you would be leaving. It does not make it any easier, though.”
“No, it doesn’t,” as I realized with some surprise that I actually meant it and was not just saying what she wanted to hear.
I would genuinely miss Miriam, and I was not ready to lose her from my life.
“Why don’t you come with me?” I asked suddenly.
She lifted her head sharply to look me in the eyes. I saw happiness there, but only for a moment, then her head dropped again and she shook her head.
“I cannot, Titus Pullus,” she said softly. “If I left with you, it would only postpone the end of . . . us,” she finished. “But you would still leave, and every day we are together, I love you more.”
