Cleopatra the Great (15 page)

Her brother's ally, Pompeius, had been defeated. The Nile flood, on which Egyptian agriculture was dependent, had failed again. Since the amount of water was seen as a measure of the gods' goodwill, the fact that these were the lowest levels ever recorded made great propaganda. The return of Living Isis would restore divine favour. All things considered, it was the perfect time to launch her invasion. She set out at the head of her army on the six-day march south to the Egyptian border.

Ptolemy's advisers Potheinos and Theodotus encouraged the fourteen-year-old pharaoh to go to meet her, dressed in his golden armour and military cloak woven with the images of gods and ancestors. He was accompanied by his general Achillas and the Gabiniani among a force of twenty thousand men. After arriving at Mount Kasios, some 30 miles east of Pelusium, Ptolemy's army set up camp on the sandy mounds to await Cleopatra. Then, as sister and brother finally faced each other on 28 September 48
BC
and prepared for hostilities, a small flotilla of Roman ships appeared off the coast, carrying the defeated general Pompeius, his wife Cornelia, their youngest son and two thousand men who had remained loyal. True to form, a cash-strapped Pompeius had returned to his usual source, seeking help from his ally Ptolemy XIII of Egypt.

His arrival was greeted with little enthusiasm. Not only were the royal coffers close to empty, but Ptolemy's advisers had no desire to be placed at a disadvantage with the victorious Caesar, already in the east. And there was always the real possibility that the Gabiniani troops might go over to their former general and weaken Ptolemy's forces against Cleopatra. Deciding that ‘a dead man cannot bite', Potheinos and Theodotus agreed that Pompeius' elimination would placate his enemy Caesar, who would then return to Rome, grateful to the Egyptian king, who would be allowed to remain in power.

So as Pompeius' ship pulled close to land, Ptolemy XIII granted his formal request to land and waited in full military regalia, watching as Achillas and two Roman officers of the Gabiniani were sent over to row him ashore. As he climbed down into their boat, Pompeius recognised one of the officers as having served under him — although his greetings were cut short when the same man stabbed him in the back. Ptolemy then ordered that Pompeius should be beheaded, his body cremated on the beach and his severed head embalmed to preserve it. After seizing most of Pompeius' fleet, Achillas remained with the troops in Pelusium to keep Cleopatra at bay while Ptolemy returned to Alexandria with Pompeius' head to await Caesar's arrival.

They did not have long to wait. Just a few days later the general, distinctive in his purple cloak, arrived off the coast of Alexandria with a small fleet and a modest force of four thousand. Hoping to catch up with the defeated Pompeius and extend his famous clemency, Caesar too needed money, claiming that Auletes' heirs still owed him 6000 talents. In an attempt to discourage him from landing, Theodotus sailed out to meet him with Pompeius' head as a gift — the presentation of a relative's body parts to make a political point had long been part of the Ptolemies' modus operandi. But Caesar was appalled. Although he later wrote with characteristic detachment that ‘he learns of the death of Pompeius', he was seen to be so overcome with grief at the time that he wept openly, for, regardless of recent battles, the severed head before him belonged to his son-in-law and the father of his short-lived grandchild. His genuine feelings for Pompeius were also revealed by the fact that he took the head from Theodotus and kept it safe until such time as he could give it appropriate burial ashore.

This was certainly not the reaction Theodotus was expecting. Much to his alarm and that of Potheinos, who was watching closely from the shore, Caesar reverted to his official status and, declaring his intention to carry out his duty as executor of Auletes' will, proceeded to disembark. Mindful of how this might appear to the famously volatile Alexandrians now lining the harbourside, he decided against a show of force and took only a small group of officers led by the two lictors carrying the fasces, the bundles of axes and reeds that served as traditional symbols of consular office.

Stirred up by Potheinos, the crowds assumed that Caesar was asserting Rome's power over their territory and started to grow restless. Then, ‘undaunted, with looks that ever masked his fears', Caesar brazened it out and made for the nearby palace quarter within which lay the fortified Inner Palaces and the home of the monarchs themselves. Stretching for half a mile or so along the breezy seafront, this ‘amazing building complex comprised multiple colonnaded courts of different shapes and dimensions' that marked the way each generation had added their own personal palace. Passing through its adjoining administrative buildings, Caesar finally reached the guest quarters and took up residence.

Posing as simply another Roman tourist doing the sights, he nonchalantly viewed the Library and Museum and ‘visited the temples of the gods and the ancient shrines of divinity which attest the former might of Macedonia. No thing of beauty attracted him, neither the gold and ornaments of the gods, nor the city walls; but in eager haste he went down into the vault hewn out for a tomb. There lies the mad son of Macedonian Philip', this description of Alexander by a Republican sympathizer revealing he was hated almost as much as Caesar for their shared imperial ambitions.

But Caesar's real reason for visiting Alexander's city was to settle the Ptolemies' dynastic dispute to the best advantage of Rome and himself, so he ordered brother and sister to dismiss their armies and appear before him. Retaining his forces at Pelusium to keep Cleopatra at bay, Ptolemy XIII arrived with the customary pharaonic splendour and accompanied by the ever-present Potheinos. Ptolemy informed the Roman general that his sister had taken power for herself, then raised an army against him, so had forfeited all rights to the throne and left him sole ruler. Caesar then pointed out that any successor of Auletes still owed him 6000 talents, at which point Potheinos, in his role as treasurer, intervened to suggest that Caesar must surely have more pressing business elsewhere. The Roman was unimpressed with Potheinos' insolence, particularly in light of his role in Pompeius' murder. Potheinos for his part resented the challenge to his behind-the-scenes authority and made sure the Alexandrians continued their hostility, even ordering royal meals to be served on the poorest-quality tableware to imply that Caesar had stolen all the gold and silver plate.

Surrounded by the Alexandrians within the confines of the Palace quarter, Caesar then waited for Ptolemy's former co-ruler. Although she had already written to him, Cleopatra wanted to plead her own case in person. But she realised she would have to take great care if she were to make her way through the city without being recognised and avoid the guards whom Potheinos had stationed all around the palace to prevent her reaching Caesar alive. Yet against overwhelming odds, the twenty-two-year-old managed to pull off one of the most daring wartime missions ever staged, successfully crossing enemy lines with the greatest panache.

Having dismissed her troops at Pelusium, Cleopatra left camp for Alexandria in the company of a Sicilian courtier named Apollodorus, whose title, ‘Philos', was the official Macedonian term for a high-ranking confidant. With the presence of her brother's troops making an approach by land impossible she decided to take to sea, travelling west along the Delta coast towards the Pharos lighthouse. Reaching Alexandria's Great Harbour under cover of darkness, her small vessel with Apollodorus at the helm attracted little attention. As the boat approached the steps of the royal harbour beside the palace she concealed herself to avoid her brother's guards.

According to the famous version of events related by the first-century
AD
Greek historian Plutarch, Cleopatra ‘was at a loss at how to get in undiscovered' until she hit upon the idea of stretching herself full-length on a carpet which Apollodorus rolled up, tied and carried in to Caesar. Her ‘piquant wrapper' has been imagined by some to have been nothing less than a full bale of oriental rugs; other translations have suggested an alternative mode of transport after ‘she thought of putting herself into the coverlet of a bed and lying at length, whilst Apollodorus tied up the bedding and carried it on his back through the gates to Caesar's apartments'. This has been interpreted as some sort of ‘linen bag of the kind used to carry carpets' or a ‘bed-linen sack'. Certainly, a brilliantly staged piece of political daring has been reduced to little more than knockabout comedy. Yet it seems somewhat unlikely that a pharaoh of Egypt and living goddess would allow herself to be rolled up, trussed up and manhandled in such a manner, or indeed that the sudden appearance of a late-night carpet salesman touting for business around the palace would fail to raise suspicion from a guard already on high alert.

It may be that confusion was caused by the way ancient bedlinen doubled as clothing — the Greek word ‘himation' refers to a piece of material used as a bedsheet, wrapped around the body on waking to form the standard outer garment worn by both sexes throughout the day. In similar fashion, cloaks were often used as blankets and ‘coverlets and bedclothes were considered as clothing by the Romans' . The scenario of a heavily cloaked Cleopatra would certainly seem to make far more sense in the context of first-century
BC
Alexandria, where the fashion for heavy drapery would have formed the perfect disguise — particularly since the himation and more tentlike pharos mantle were often used by women to cover the face in public. By no means a recent invention, face veiling dates back thousands of years. Although never used by the ancient Egyptians, it was a widespread custom amongst elite women from Assyria in the east right through to the Greek colonies of Asia Minor and even in Athens. In Cleopatra's day it was standard practice for Greek women: ‘they wrap their heads in their himatia such that the garment seems to cover the whole face like a little mask; the eyes alone peep out; all the other parts of the face are covered by the mantles'. It was a form of dress imposed by husbands who wanted to hide their possessions from other men; one second-century
BC
Roman consul even divorced his wife for going outdoors without being fully covered, telling her that ‘by law, only my eyes should see you'.

Although classical sculpture did not show the face covered either by veils or helmets, both of which were pushed back to reveal the subject's face, veiling was occasionally represented on a small scale: there are scenes on Greek vases showing women with their himatia pulled over their faces as they dance before their menfolk and the deities Dionysos and Artemis. The face veil also appears on small-scale sculpture, the most accomplished example being a bronze figurine from Alexandria of such quality that she may well have been one of the royal favourites or ‘minor wives' passing through the palace en route to the king. With only her painted, elongated eyes visible, she is completely swathed in her sheetlike mantle. The outline of her hair is pulled back into a bun just visible through ample drapery which makes her body appear ‘fluid and like a whirlwind', recalling the way the sea breezes caused the mantles of Alexandria's ladies to blow about them like the billowing mantle of Isis Pharia, whose colossus stood guard close to the palace.

It is therefore quite intriguing to imagine a similarly clad Cleopatra on her daring mission to reach Caesar, silently moving through the harbour's dark waters beneath the towering figure of her alter ego. As her boat reached the seaward side of the palace she must have pulled her dark mantle tight about her, concealing her well-known face as she followed Apollodorus swiftly up the white stone steps and across the limestone esplanade before disappearing into the shadows. They would have entered by one of the palace entrances no doubt used by the steady stream of favoured female courtiers on their visits to successive kings. It has reasonably been suggested that, should the need have arisen, Latin-speaking Apollodorus would have been able to communicate with any Roman guards they encountered — either Ptolemy's Gabiniani or Caesar's personal bodyguards — allowing his royal charge to pass unhindered through the passages of the labyrinthine palace she knew so well.

Slipping into Caesar's quarters, Cleopatra then famously revealed herself. But, rather than springing unceremoniously out of an unrolled carpet, dizzy and unkempt, it is far more likely that she simply pulled back her heavy dark mantle to reveal her face in a gesture recalling the way gods' statues were concealed from profane eyes within temples. For even the Romans knew that in Egypt the sacred inscription accompanying the bejewelled statue of Isis stated, ‘I am that which is, which hath been, and which shall be, and none have ever lifted the veil that hides my Divinity from mortal eyes.'

As Living Isis now revealed her own divinity before Caesar's eyes, her appearance as the many-named goddess brought together multiple strands of mythology in a superbly stage-managed event, laden with meaning and innuendo which only the limits of Caesar's intellect would prevent him from understanding. Veiling had been a key part of marriage ceremonies dating back to at least the sixth century
BC
, and the unveiling of a bride by her husband in both Greek and Roman ceremonies signified the surrender of her virginity to him. Since the concept of a woman unveiling herself in front of a man whom she did not know was completely alien within these cultures, Cleopatra's highly suggestive gesture may therefore have been an invitation to some sort of union or alliance.

Her unveiling must also have revealed inner clothing made of the ultra-fine linen that the Ptolemies so favoured, from Arsinoe IFs gauzy veils to the transparent robes of Physkon whose visibly obese physique had so horrified his Roman guests. Yet as Cleopatra's ‘white breasts were revealed by the fabric of Sidon,' a popular tale of the time described how its hero ‘could see her whole body in it, and her desire grew even greater than it had been before' — feelings no doubt shared by the Roman who stood before her.

Cleopatra certainly seems to have been deeply attractive to Caesar, despite current notions that she was no great beauty, based on interpretations of coin images whose masculine-type features were deliberately exaggerated to compete with those of male rivals. A form of propaganda also employed by her female predecessors Hatshepsut, Nefertiti and Cleopatra III, the masculine-type portraits of the seventh Cleopatra have nevertheless been added to the ambiguous statement that ‘her beauty was not in and for itself incomparable'. This has been taken to mean that she simply was not beautiful, rather than that there were other women whose beauty could compare with hers. But the same ancient source clearly states that Cleopatra was able to rely on ‘the power of her beauty' while another clearly admits she ‘was a woman of surpassing beauty, and at that time, when she was in the prime of her youth, she was most striking. Being brilliant to look upon and to listen to, with the power to subjugate every one, even a love-sated man already past his prime, she thought that it would be in keeping with her role to meet Caesar, and she reposed in her beauty all her claims to the throne'.

Certainly her surviving portrait busts seem to support her legendary beauty, despite doubts that they may represent Cleopatra because they are not inscribed — but then there are only three known statues of Ptolemaic royal women which do bear an identifying inscription. Even the famous bust of a royal woman in a tall blue crown from Amarna has no convenient name tag, yet no one has so far suggested that this is not Nefertiti. And given their characteristic features and iconography, it is usually possible to identify images of the Ptolemies, including the seventh Cleopatra herself.

Yet even if it is accepted that she was beautiful, perceptions of what constitutes beauty have varied tremendously throughout history — from Rubenesque to Twiggy-thin, from noses long and aquiline to small and retrousse, the ancient ideal of beauty seems far from the artificially enhanced glamour of modern times. Certainly one high-class courtesan portrayed on an ancient Greek vase, looking at her face in a mirror with the tag line ‘she is beautiful', seems rather wide of the mark to modern eyes, as does the image of the legendary courtesan Phryne who was renowned down the centuries as an all-time beauty. She was the model for Praxiteles' famous sculpture of Aphrodite, regarded as breathtaking by all who saw it, but the statue has at best a mediocre face, which is far outshone by the aesthetic qualities of Kleopatra's sculpted features, at least from this twenty-first-century Western female's perspective.

Clearly, in the eye of the beholder, images of Cleopatra have been subjected to an incredibly wide range of descriptions. One female writer has claimed she was ‘pretty neither by the standards of [her] own day nor by those of ours', while discussing one of Cleopatra's marble heads another female historian believes that ‘whilst it does not flatter her it bears a close relationship to the portraits of Alexander the Great'. Then again, male commentators claim the same head ‘suggests her great physical beauty' and ‘is infinitely more beautiful than the unflattering coin portrait, and it does convey an image of the great queen's personality'. As for these coin portraits, which have led some experts to declare that ‘even the famously attractive Cleopatra VII of Egypt is shown with a flabby neck that suggests a goitre', they have variously been described as portraying someone who looks like a man ‘in drag' and ‘a cruel, hook-nosed hag' whereas to others the face is both ‘attractive' and ‘radiant'.

Regardless of such widely differing opinions of her physical beauty, the ancient sources agree that Cleopatra's character exerted a force all of its own. It was said that ‘contact of her presence, if you lived with her, was irresistible; the attraction of her person, joining with the charm of her conversation, and the character that attended all she said or did, was something bewitching'. She was also blessed with ‘a most delicious voice', in contrast to the high pitch of most female voices which apparently deviated so far from the masculine ‘norm' they made men feel uncomfortable. Nor was the Greek belief that ‘silence is the ornament of women' likely to have been a view held by Cleopatra.

Able to converse easily on all matters of culture and politics, enhanced by travel to places in Greece, Italy and Syria that were also familiar to Caesar, ‘she had the facility of atuning her tongue, like an instrument with many strings, to whatever language she wished. There were few foreigners she had to deal with through an interpreter, and to most she herself gave her replies without an intermediary — to the Ethiopians, Troglodytes, Hebrews, Arabs, Syrians, Medes and Parthians. It is said she knew languages of many other peoples too, although the preceding kings had not tried to master even the Egyptian tongue, and some had indeed ceased to speak Macedonian.' Although there are no references to her speaking Latin, it seems hardly credible that she would not have been able to understand the language of those with whom she had to deal throughout her life, for not all Romans could speak Greek. Yet Caesar, trained in Greek and Latin rhetoric, is known to have conversed in Greek, the medium of scholars.

A modern psychiatric profile has claimed that Cleopatra had a borderline psychological disorder and a ‘narcissistic personality seems consistently to be the best description for her'; but she had been raised as a goddess from birth, and such traits are hardly surprising in a descendant of Alexander and three centuries of monarchs who believed themselves divine and were worshipped by their people. Yet the supreme self-confidence that such belief gave Cleopatra was clearly most attractive: Caesar must have greatly admired her youthful vitality and fearless nature, graphically demonstrated by the means she used to reach him and perhaps inspired by his own well-publicised methods of crossing enemy lines. For only a year earlier he had run the blockade of Pompeius' fleet in the Adriatic, having ‘muffled his head with a cloak and secretly put to sea in a small boat, alone and incognito', as she had just done.

Despite the age gap, the twenty-two-year-old Greek pharaoh was not so different from the fifty-two-year-old Roman general, who may well have been something of a father figure. His sculpted images certainly show a man not dissimilar in appearance to Auletes, and for all their differences the two men shared some distinct characteristics. Both were flamboyant, both were pragmatic, and when necessary both were completely ruthless.

Born in 100
BC
, Gaius Julius Caesar — pronounced in the same way as the German ‘Kaiser', which, like the Russian term ‘Tsar', is a derivative — was named after his father, a government official. The family were descended from an exclusive group of aristocrats who used dynastic marriage to increase their wealth and social status. Educated by a tutor who had himself studied Greek and Latin rhetoric in Alexandria, the young Caesar became a keen poet and writer. Already ambitious, he broke off his first betrothal to make a more politically useful marriage with Cornelia, daughter of the powerful statesman Lucius Cornelius Cinna; their only child, Julia, was born in 76
BC
.