Licentia Poëtica Purissima

It is the year 46 BC and Caesar, back in Rome, has been appointed by the senate of the people Dictator Per Decem Annos. Rome had rewarded its most cherished son after his victories.

"Oh, Aulus Hirtius, how good of you to come!" Julius Caesar opened his arms with enthusiasm to welcome his old army friend and personal historian.

"It is great to be here, Caesar!"

"And you brought Hirtia with you! She is so beautiful! Let me look at both of you!" He contemplated them in awe for a moment; then shaking his head he added — "No, no... she is too beautiful to be wasted... we will find her a husband!"

Hirtia's face turned red like fire, and with a shy smile she looked away, hiding her emotions.

"Oh, what am I doing! You are like family to me..." and with a gentle reverence he spoke to Hirtia.

"Hirtia, darling, go to the gardens and join Pompeia, there are wonderful refreshments... please, please, please... enjoy yourself... men’s talk is boring, eh?" And turning to Hirtius he asked with a smile:

"How was your trip, old friend?"

"Very pleasant. The sea was perfect and we had favorable winds the entire time!"

"I am so glad!" he replied with a smile.

"Caesar... if I may ask..." Hirtius made a pause, looked at the ground he was standing on, and raised his head slowly to meet Caesar’s eyes.

"...if I did not know you well, I would think you want something. What it is, I do not know. Why am I here, in Baiae, so far from Rome? Are you dissatisfied with my work?"

"Not at all!"

Caesar interjected, and placing his right hand on Hirtius’s left shoulder he added — "Go, refresh yourself and we'll talk after dinner. Evenings in the villa are a gift."

Dinner at the villa had been exquisite, very different from the field dinners the men had during their campaigning days. One of Caesar’s slaves, a Greek, had recited the poems of the Seikilos Epitaph, giving the evening a relaxed atmosphere.

After the dinner, Pompeia and Hirtia reclined on a couch for a game of Ludus Duodecim Scriptorum. Pompeia could not avoid looking at Hirtia with a motherly predisposition.

Caesar and Hirtius retired to the garden, followed by Caesar's personal assistant and slave Faberius.

"Faberius, you may leave us now. We are not to be disturbed." Caesar spoke to Faberius kindly; he had been in his service for many years.

"Caesar." Said Faberius, and with a bow of the head, turned on his heels and left the men to take position on two comfortable chairs on a spacious terrace.

The scene seemed previously arranged, staged, a thought that added to Hirtius’s anxiety — "Why am I here?"

"What a wonderful evening!" Caesar exclaimed as he reclined into the comfort of his chair.

"Caesar..."

"Ad rem sine mora!" Caesar interrupted as Hirtius was about to speak. "I read your account of the Egyptian campaign. Very impressive, but..."

Hirtius leaned over and listened attentively.

"The Battle for Pharos Island, and the adjacent Heptastadion mole, needs molding..."

"The battle was documented with witnesses’ accounts, legionary reports, and you as well. Your swim to the warship was recounted by a great many Romans." Hirtius made his case.

"Yes, I agree, but the story also mentions inexplicable passages..."

Hirtius felt an uneasy worry. He felt he needed to wash his face, drink clean water, but he remained seated; motionless. 

"You are referring to the unnatural accounts... the inexplicable..." he finally spoke, and added — "Witnesses speak of what they saw."

"No," Caesar said softly. "They speak of what they think they saw. Rome will speak of what is history."

Caesar was looking at him, not giving anything away; his face remained expressionless.

"Sir… if we omit the account of what took place on the Heptastadion causeway, the gaps will be obvious. Historians will ask questions..."

"We will give them answers." interjected Caesar, looking into his eyes.

"Sir... facts are facts. Here my skin can feel a breeze..." said Hirtius, moving his arms in circles.

"I call that... a strong wind..." Caesar corrected Hirtius. He spoke as a teacher corrects an advanced student.

Hirtius turned his head towards the sea. The sea was in the distance, illuminated by the reflection of a luna dimidiata. It was beautifully silver, but he could not enjoy it, and spoke as a smart student.

"...the harbor was experiencing strong currents..." Caesar’s face brightened, and a smile started to draw on his lips. Hirtius continued.

"The marines commanding the ships were inexperienced and collided with each other. Oars shattered to pieces... this created panic and legionaries and centurions, fearing they were going to be moored, jumped anxiously to the ships, creating an imbalance... the ships capsized..."

"And I had to jump into the water and swim to save my own life..." Caesar interrupted, his face featuring a fully developed smile. He continued:

"I got onboard a passing Roman warship and resumed command of the battle."

"...and the unnatural?" asked Hirtius.

"What unnatural? We have licentia poëtica."

The men remained silent. The warm land breeze weaved through the tree branches like invisible snakes moving in their habitat, causing the leaves to tremble softly. The sound had a calming effect on Hirtius. He nodded once.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Caesar — "I have written those details and will give you the book for you to curate, but we have covered the main points."

"Many legionaries and centurions remember the causeway... retreat... differently."

"We can change their memories"

"How?"

"I have thought of that." Caesar spoke cleverly. "I have written a play to be performed by street actors. Suetonius Oppiulatis owns a troupe. The play begins next week."

"Who is telling... this story, if I may ask."

"It will be based on anonymous accounts. It is perfect." The face of Caesar looked bright. His teeth shone under the light of the moon. 

Hirtius had felt this feeling before, he learned to hide his emotions, managing to return Caesar’s smile back in agreement.

Time passed gently. The men remained seated, their minds immersed in their memories.

"What a wonderful evening, eh?" Said Caesar breaking the spell.

"It is." Hirtius was relaxed now. He had with him Caesar’s account summary which he would curate on his arrival to Rome.

"Hirtius, we are not soldiers anymore... at least for now. I am glad the civil war has concluded. There will be more history to write, but are you planning to settle down somewhere?"

Julius Caesar spoke casually; the matter had been solved, but in his mind, the deal needed a clear conclusion. After a pause, he continued:

"Gaius Scribonius Curio is a terrible gambler and has many debts..."

Hirtius looked at him, eyes opened wide.

"Do you think I do not know? Ha! He has to sell his farm villa." Caesar reclined on his chair. "I am looking at the next owner of a very profitable land!" he added with finality in his words.

"I could not afford it, I would be in debt myself..."

"Nonsense, I will lend you the money myself!" Caesar spoke, moving his right arm in a give‑away gesture. "You can pay me back when you can; I could give you the money but you would not accept!"

"Caesar!"

"Done! There is good money in corn, you know!"

Postscript

This is s what really happened at the Battle of Pharos Island and Heptastadion causeway

If you wish to hear what Caesar and his guests might have heard that summer night in Baiae, here is a faithful interpretation of the Seikilos Epitaph.