Page 37 of Agrippa

The Battle of Naulochus, as it became known, took place a few days later.

Both sides mustered all the naval forces at their disposal, roughly three hundred ships apiece.

I slept well aboard my flagship the night before the engagement. We might be beaten – in war one never knows; too much depends on chance – but I had at least the confidence of knowing I had done all I could to prepare.

It was the strangest battle I ever fought, arranged like a spectacle in the Circus Maximus. Thousands of infantry, ours and theirs, separated by only a stretch of sandy beach, were lined up on the shore to watch. Once again, Sextus chose to remain on land and communicate with his commanders from a wooden tower using signals flashed by a mirror. Caesar and Lepidus watched from a tent in the dunes but left the tactics to me.

I sailed our fleet past them along the coast, flags flying, trumpets sounding. The sea was calm, with a breeze blowing off the mountains. The enemy slipped anchor and came out to meet us.

Just as before, they charged us at full speed and attempted to disable us by shattering our protruding oars and hurling every kind of missile – arrows, javelins, and balls of burning pitch shot from catapults, which stuck to our decks and started innumerable small fires. But they could only do this once, otherwise as soon as the ships crashed into one another, they risked being set ablaze themselves.

After their first pass, while our sailors were busy smothering the fires with blankets, they tacked and turned. That was when our marines in their towers released their catapults and unleashed the harpaxes. They flashed across the blueness of the sky, trailing their chains and cables, and thudded into the enemy’s hulls.

I had feared the enemy might have learned their lesson and devised countermeasures – scythes mounted at the end of long poles, for example, would have enabled them to cut the ropes that were attached to the chains. But this they did not do. Instead, once hooked, they attempted to escape by trying to row backwards. The lines tautened and rose dripping from the surface of the sea.

Their oarsmen certainly were strong, and their desperation lent them extra power. However, each of our triremes had one hundred and twenty rowers, whilst their liburnians carried only sixty, so that in this deadly tug of war, we were invariably the victors. We winched them in, and close combat began.

Caesar said to me afterwards that these were some of the longest moments of his life, as it was impossible from the shore to make out who was winning. It was equally hard to tell where I was, in the thick of battle, as they jumped onto our ships as well as we onto theirs, and both sides shouted to one another in Latin and quickly learned their enemy’s watchwords. I was tricked myself and let a man pass who suddenly turned and would have stabbed me if I hadn’t realised my mistake in time and thrust my sword into his stomach.

The decks were slippery with blood, the sea so thick with bodies it appeared as though one could have walked across them.

But we had the greater numbers, of men if not of ships, and slowly we gained the upper hand. I became aware that some of their vessels were attempting to escape – seventeen in total broke away and headed towards the Straits of Messana. Once their comrades saw that, they lost heart, and their formation began to break. Now we were able to pick off the stragglers one by one, pursuing them until they ran aground or came to a standstill – capturing them, sinking them or setting them on fire.

Our infantry on the beach, seeing what was happening, cheered us on. The enemy troops began to melt away and Sextus’s mirror ceased to flash. He had fled, and although we did not know it yet was on his way to board a fast boat and sail to exile in the eastern Mediterranean.

Once the struggle was won, I waded ashore and was warmly congratulated by Caesar. Even Lepidus shook my hand. But there was no time for celebration. Our scouts informed us that Sextus’s men were fleeing along the coastal road back towards their last redoubt in the port of Messana.

Lepidus volunteered at once to pursue them with his overwhelming force, and left with his officers. Caesar watched him go and ordered me to follow.

– We may rule the sea, but he dominates on land, and I do not trust him.

His political instinct as ever was infallible. When the commander of the garrison at Messana saw the size of Lepidus’s army approaching, he immediately offered to surrender the town in return for safe passage. At a council of war, I argued that we should wait and consult Caesar. But Lepidus saw his opportunity to take the prize and absorb the last of Sextus’s soldiers into his army. He sent me back to Caesar with a message.

– Tell your young friend that things have changed. Marcus Aemilius Lepidus is no longer willing to be pushed around and fobbed off with Africa while he and Antony divide the world between them. Tell him I now regard Sicily as my province, and I demand the equal share of authority that is due to me as a member of the Triumvirate.

When I returned to Caesar and relayed Lepidus’s words, he laughed.

– What a greedy, vain old fool he is. It’s time to settle matters with him once and for all.

We passed the night in Naulochus and left the following morning with our army. This was a much smaller force than that of Lepidus, but at its core were the veterans who had followed Caesar for years, whereas Lepidus’s was largely composed of African auxiliaries, mercenaries, pressed men and ex-prisoners, including those who had just surrendered at Messana.

By noon, we were at the gates of Lepidus’s camp, which lay within sight of Messana’s walls. At first his officers refused to admit us. There was an ugly skirmish. Someone threw a javelin at Caesar, which narrowly missed. But we made short work of them, and then Caesar seized their standard and we entered the camp.

Carrying the standard, he rode slowly at the head of his column along the wide avenue towards the centre. Thousands of Lepidus’s soldiers came out of their tents to see him. It was a brave act. I was fearful for his safety. Any one of them could have rushed out and struck him down. But they stood in silence. He mounted the rostrum beside the altar and spoke in a loud, clear voice.

– I am Gaius Octavian Julius Caesar, rightful heir of Gaius Julius Caesar, and to any man who is prepared to follow me, I promise fair treatment, land and a bounty of five hundred sesterces.

A murmur of assent gradually swelled into a roar of approval. It was clear they felt no great loyalty to Lepidus. They defected en masse.

Once they had sworn allegiance to him, Caesar sent a message into the town, summoning Lepidus to the camp. After a day’s hesitation, during which Lepidus gradually came to realise the extent of the mutiny against him, he agreed.

Knowing Caesar’s reputation for cruelty to those who surrendered, he must have feared his final day had dawned. He came white-faced and trembling, with only a few staff officers for support. But Caesar received him graciously, allowing him to keep his sword, before informing him of his fate. He was to be stripped of his province and the title of triumvir. He would be allowed to retain his position as chief priest, but only on condition he retired to his seaside villa on the Ligurian coast and remained there in retirement unless Caesar sent for him.

It was a bitter humiliation. A true Roman would have killed himself. But after a few feeble attempts to bargain, Lepidus accepted the offer. He left under guard, and that was the last time I ever saw him.

Caesar now controlled more than forty legions and a navy of over five hundred ships. Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica and all Sextus’s wealth was his, in addition to his existing provinces of Gaul and Spain.

The Triumvirate was over. Three had become two. Only Antony stood between him and complete domination of the Roman world.