Free Cleopatra and Antony by Diana Preston Page A

the Senate building as well as Clodius’ remains. Rival gangs fought among the flames. Every respectable Roman leader was appalled. Even Cato turned to Pompey to rescue the republic from mob rule. Pompey answered the call of duty with alacrity, speedily restoring order, and Milo was exiled. Basking in the glory and respect he had always thought his due, Pompey remarried. He did not accept Caesar’s offer of his seventeen-year-old great-niece Octavia—thirty-seven years Pompey’s junior and another future wife of Antony—but instead took the hand of the beautiful and highly patrician Cornelia, the young widow of Crassus’ son Publius. Pompey was now moving toward the republican faction and away from Caesar and the popular party but, again enraptured by the charms of a young wife, he did not act decisively.
    It was Caesar who took the lead by seeking to extend his command in Gaul until he could once more legally stand for the consulship in 48. The hard-line republicans and traditionalists such as Cato opposed the proposal, suspecting that Caesar merely wanted to preserve his armies intact and himself, as an officeholder, immune from prosecution by his enemies for exceeding his authority until after winning the consulship, when, with his veterans at his elbow, he could ram through legislation augmenting his own powers and rewarding his loyal followers. Pompey procrastinated, unwilling to abandon Caesar entirely, but in the end he came down in favor of the Senate, reassuring his new followers grandiloquently that if Caesar intervened militarily, “I only have to stamp my foot and all over Italy legions and cavalry will rise from the ground.”
    Tensions rose further in what Cicero called “a struggle for personal power at the state’s expense” as Caesar maneuvered to bolster his position. Although still in Gaul, he secured a strong man to represent him in Rome: Antony. Under Caesar’s patronage, Antony was elected tribune. In the face of the hostility of most of the Senate he displayed not only the physical courage he had shown previously but also a fiery oratory in defending Caesar and virulently attacking Pompey. In January 49, using the powers of the tribunes, restored after Sulla’s death, Antony vetoed a Senate bill that ordered Caesar to surrender his command or be outlawed as an enemy of the people. The Senate’s response was to eject Antony from their midst and threaten him with death if he returned, as well as to grant Pompey emergency powers. Antony and some other of Caesar’s supporters disguised themselves as slaves and, hiding in the backs of carts, fled toward northern Italy, where Caesar, encamped with a single legion, was awaiting the outcome of the Senate vote.
    Before Antony could reach him, Caesar heard reports of what had happened in Rome and realized that he had to act decisively, albeit unconstitutionally, if he was to win power or indeed, in all probability, preserve his life. On January 10, 49, his legion crossed the cold waters of the river Rubicon in the Apennines, which formally marked the boundary between Cisalpine Gaul, one of the provinces Caesar commanded, and Rome. Caesar’s laconic comment “Let the dice fly high,” made as he gave the order to advance, shows that he knew the gamble he was taking. In marching out of his province in arms toward Rome he was committing treason, breaking one of Sulla’s laws that had not been overturned.
    Antony joined Caesar at Rimini. Having taken the irrevocable step, Caesar advanced quickly on Rome. The Senate remained suspicious of Pompey and refused to grant him all the freedoms he required to marshal an effective resistance. Thus Pompey took a decision that was sound militarily but disastrous politically. He abandoned Rome, proclaiming that any senator or official who remained was a traitor. Caesar cleverly responded that he, on the other hand, would consider any who were not openly against him as with him.
    Pompey retreated swiftly south and,