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Who Were Cleopatra’s Grandchildren?
I’ve spent the past few years writing about Cleopatra’s daughter–a fascinating young woman that most people don’t even know existed. Today I want to talk about the next generation, the children that the infamous Queen of the Nile may have bounced on her knee if she’d lived to a ripe old grandmotherly age.
As far as we know, Cleopatra Selene was the only survivor of the Ptolemaic dynasty. But she seems to have been determined not to be the last of her line.
Though Selene’s parents were two of the most famously fertile individuals in ancient history, it is only certain that Selene had one son. He was born to her late in life and may have hastened her death. The name she chose for him is both the single most telling detail about her life and the most mysterious. Breaking with ancient tradition, her son wasn’t named after her husband, King Juba II.
Instead, Selene’s son was named Ptolemy.
The importance of this cannot be overstated. It indicates that even after having been married to Selene and ruling his own country for at least a decade, Juba’s lineage was still considered to be inferior to hers. Perhaps it indicates that she was the true ruler of Mauretania. It also may have led some to question whether or not Juba II was even the father of the boy.
In a time when it would have been considered their duty to produce children, Juba and Selene appear not to have been up to the task. Perhaps Juba and Selene did not fancy sharing one another’s bed. On the other hand, child mortality rates were extremely high in the ancient world. There may well have been other children that we just don’t know about.
An inscription from ancient Athens indicated that Juba had a son and a daughter, who is unnamed. However, this daughter need not have been the child of Cleopatra Selene because King Juba actually had another wife, Princess Glaphyra of Cappadocia.
Now, historians have argued that as a Roman citizen, Juba was unlikely to have broken with Roman law and taken more than one wife at the same time. It must be pointed out, however, that like Juba, King Herod was also a Roman citizen and had more wives than he could keep track of. Juba’s father had kept many wives and it’s entirely possible that the young king may have done the same to earn the respect of his Berber peoples. It strikes me that admirers of King Juba II who insist that he couldn’t have taken a second wife because he wouldn’t have taken a second wife may be projecting onto him some virtues of modern morality. After all, even the most Roman of the Romans–Julius Caesar–is rumored to have tried to pass a law that would allow him to take more than one wife.
A more persuasive argument, to my mind, is that Archelaus the King of Cappadocia was unlikely to allow his daughter, Glaphyra, to play second-wife to Cleopatra’s daughter. Therefore, she was probably Juba’s second wife after Cleopatra Selene’s death.
So, what does that mean for Juba’s daughter? His marriage to Glaphyra was extremely short and this daughter is never mentioned in conjunction with her, so the daughter was probably Cleopatra Selene’s child. (Professor Duane Roller has suggested that Juba may have reinstated the tradition of a harem, in which case this unnamed daughter may have belonged to a concubine. But if so, it is far less likely that she would be mentioned in an inscription.)
The most probable explanation is that the girl mentioned in the inscription is Selene’s daughter. If so, the girl was likely named in the tradition of the Ptolemaic dynasty. Another Cleopatra Something or Berenice or Arsinoe. (In my own forthcoming novel, Song of the Nile, she will be named Cleopatra Isidora.)
A third child is also hinted at. Some scholars have suggested that Selene may have had two sons, both named Ptolemy, one of whom died young. This would reconcile some confusion in the historical record about Ptolemy’s age, and might also explain why Selene would have tried for another child so late in life when it was so dangerous for her to do so. If true, it would mean that Ptolemy wasn’t the only son born to Juba and Selene, but the only surviving son.
He would go on to be the King of Mauretania and he is likely the father of the girl we now believe to be Cleopatra’s great-great-granddaughter, Drusilla of Mauritania!
Did Augustus Really Persecute Isis Worship?
A common misconception held even by some classics majors who ought to know better is that Rome was tolerant of every foreign god and the idea that Augustus suppressed Isis worship is a fictional literary flourish.
While it’s true that Rome generally accorded respect to foreign gods, there are a few religions that fell afoul of the powers-that-be. Rome virtually exterminated the Druids. They burned Christians and fed them to the lions. And we learn from Tertullian, Cassius Dio, Valerius Maximus, Josephus and others, they cracked down on Isis worship too.
The female-centric Alexandrine cult promoted unorthodox ideas about gender roles, war and slavery; it was thought to be a threat to the moral fiber of Rome. Writers like Juvenal and Cattullus propagated the idea that the religion was obscene and orgiastic. Certainly, Isis was a favorite amongst prostitutes, which couldn’t have earned her any points with the musty old conscript fathers in Rome.
Valerius Maximus tells us that the authorities attempted to purge the cult from Rome, going so far as to destroy her temples–though none of the workmen would take up an axe so the politician in charge had to remove his toga and start trashing the temple himself. Isis enjoyed a brief reprieve under Julius Caesar and Mark Antony–which may have had something to do with the fact that both men were sleeping with Cleopatra VII of Egypt, the New Isis.
After Cleopatra’s defeat, however, Octavian took up the mantle of protecting the moral fiber of Rome from Isis worship which, he apparently believed, subverted the proper relations of the sexes. That is to say, he didn’t believe that women should think themselves equal to men, and said so. At first he banned the worship of Isis within the sacred boundary of Rome–an indication of its status as un-Roman. However, while Augustus was away in 21 BC, his second-in-command, Agrippa, pushed the Isiacs out of the city entirely and forbid worship within a mile of Rome.
It should be pointed out that while Augustus set about destroying the Temples of Isis in Rome, he allowed himself to be portrayed making offers to Isis in traditional style on temples in Egypt. But that was Egypt, where he wanted to claim the power of the Pharaohs and make a seamless transition in rule. It’s also not clear that all these carvings were made at his direction, or on his behalf by well-meaning priests eager to curry his favor. Moreover, the appearance of Isis in frescoes and artwork on the Palatine should not be taken as an endorsement of the goddess. In the aftermath of Cleopatra’s defeat, Egyptomania took hold and it became the fashion to decorate gardens with obelisks and sphinx statues, regardless of their religious significance. That Julia, the daughter of Augustus, may have been an Isis worshipper is an interesting possibility that leads one to wonder if it was an honest spiritual calling or one more rebellion against her overbearing father.
The official Roman antipathy for Isis lasted after Augustus’ death. Josephus tells us that after a scandal during his reign, Tiberius (who was Augustus’ successor and Julia’s husband) crucified Isiac priests and threw a cult statue of Isis into the Tiber.
Much of this happened during Cleopatra Selene’s lifetime. That she continued to promote the worship of Isis in spite of this official antipathy for her goddess is an interesting facet of her life considering she would have been the most prominent Isis worshipper and a nominal member of the imperial family. It would be her nephew, Caligula, who would restore Isis worship in Rome where it would eventually flourish until the rise of Christianity.
Of What Importance Was King Herod in the Life of Cleopatra’s Daughter?
Though no ancient sources directly link the two monarchs, it’s difficult to write a novel about the life of Cleopatra’s daughter without referencing one of her mother’s bitterest enemies.
Herod the Great was Cleopatra VII’s rival even before her affair with the Roman Triumvir, Antony. As a Ptolemy, Cleopatra maintained a hereditary claim on Judea, but that wasn’t the only source of her conflict with King Herod.
To say that Herod’s personal life was a study in dysfunction is to put it lightly. When he entered on a campaign to rid himself of his wife’s relatives, of the Hasmonean Dynasty that preceded him, his mother-in-law found a sympathetic ally in Cleopatra VII. The Queen of Egypt tried to intercede on behalf of her friend, and apparently won Herod’s lifelong enmity as a result.
The feeling appears to have been mutual. Cleopatra would later demand from Antony that Herod’s whole kingdom be surrendered to her, but because Herod had been a loyal friend to Antony, he only stripped Herod of date and balsam plantations in Jericho and Ein Gedi.
The rivalry reached such a fever pitch that Herod is said to have considered assassinating Cleopatra, but was dissuaded by his advisors, who assured him that Antony would never forgive him. After Antony and Cleopatra’s defeat, King Herod went over to Octavian, asserting that he had given Antony the best possible advice: Kill Cleopatra.
Did the rivalry end there, or did Herod continue to fear the Ptolemies even after the famous queen took her own life?
Three of Cleopatra’s children survived the civil war: little Ptolemy Philadelphus, Cleopatra Selene, and her twin brother, Alexander Helios. As Ptolemies, all three could exert a claim over Judea, and because they were half-Roman, it might well have been feared that their claims might be supported against Herod if the political fortunes of Octavian should change. Even dead, Cleopatra and Antony still had their partisans, in Rome and elsewhere. Alexandrian cults like those surrounding the goddess Isis still held enormous political sway. If we credit the gospel of Matthew, then we also know that Herod was particularly threatened by children born under auspices and omens, which would have led him to be doubly wary of Cleopatra’s twins.
Given the portrait of Herod that has come down to us through the ages–namely that he was so power hungry and paranoid that he had his own sons put to death as rivals–it is difficult to believe that he ever viewed Cleopatra’s daughter with dispassion. Cleopatra Selene not only survived childhood, but went on to become Queen of Mauretania. Are we to believe that King Herod was not made uneasy to see his enemy’s daughter given more territory to rule than all the other client kingdoms in the empire put together?
Cleopatra Selene and her husband Juba appear to have had the implicit trust of Augustus, and did not need to make frequent visits back to the capitol to secure his good will, but Herod was less secure. Whereas Selene and Juba founded a port city and named it after Caesar, Herod commenced building two such cities, naming them both after Augustus. Whereas Cleopatra Selene and Juba appear to have worked in easy concert with their proconsular neighbors in Africa Novo, Herod was obliged to get permission for his military exploits, and overstepped on at least one occasion, prompting an angry letter from Augustus. Given these tensions, it is hard to imagine that Herod and Selene did not wish one another ill.
However, whether or not an active rivalry between Herod and Cleopatra Selene existed, the King of Judea was a pivotal contemporary figure in her life by which she must have measured most of her accomplishments as a client queen. That Herod comes down to us through history more well-known than Cleopatra Selene is partially a function of her gender, but also because her reign was one of relative peace and prosperity, lacking the big splashy family drama that marked Herod’s rule.
Did Cleopatra Really Dissolve A Pearl and Drink It?
When Cleopatra was wooing Marc Antony, she bet him that she could spend a veritable fortune on a single meal. He doubted her. In response, she is said to have dissolved a valuable pearl in vinegar and gulped it down. But is the story true? No one knows for certain, but new research shows that it is not out of the realm of possibility. My favorite line in the article?
The cocktail would have been less appetizing than a martini with the traditional olive, but still palatable.
How Did Cleopatra Really Die?
The story of Cleopatra’s death, as handed down to us by her conqueror, is that she killed herself by means of a poisonous snake. According to Suetonius, the stunned Octavian summoned snake charming Psylli to suck the poison from puncture wounds found on her arm. Later, she was depicted in a wax effigy during Octavian’s triumph with an asp clutched to her breast and contemporary poets like Virgil also alluded to the snake as the instrument of her death.
It could be that they were all wrong. As Plutarch eventually admits, no one knows the truth of how Cleopatra died. Strabo may have actually been in in Alexandria at the time of her death, and he suggests that she may have put poison at the end of a needle. But none of the ancients seem to have favored the idea that she gulped down a poisonous mixture in the form of a drink, so modern claims that there was no cobra and that she drank a poison concoction must be eyed with at least a little healthy skepticism.
It’s become fashionable to challenge the manner in which Cleopatra died and also to suggest that she may have been murdered or forced to suicide. It’s even theorized that Octavian sent Dolabella to the queen with an elaborate story about how she’d be dragged through the streets of Rome for the express purpose of convincing her that killing herself was the only way to preserve her dignity.
Adherents to these theories point out that Octavian was a master propagandist who wanted to be rid of the queen and was willing to lie about how she died so as to ensure that he’d be held blameless. However, it seems that historians ought to base their conclusions upon more than a belief that Octavian was a liar.
It may well be true that a living Cleopatra was an enormous inconvenience to Octavian. He was undoubtedly better off with her dead than alive. However, it’s equally true that there isn’t a single ancient source that accuses Octavian of having killed the queen or having encouraged her to kill herself. In fact, Plutarch tells us that Cleopatra was researching painless forms of suicide long before Octavian stepped foot in Alexandria and his information may have come from Cleopatra’s only living daughter, through Juba II. Moreover, we’re presented by an undisputed claim that when Cleopatra was first captured, she was already trying to kill herself with a knife. Even after she was disarmed by Gaius Proculeius, the queen thereupon stopped eating and allowed herself to succumb to illness until Octavian threatened her children. All of this happened before the much ballyhooed talk with Dolabella, and establishes a pattern of suicidal behavior.
Finally, there is the matter of Octavian trying to revive her. Certainly, Octavian was not above play-acting, but this would seem to fit the pattern of historical sources that tell us the queen’s death came as a surprise to him.
Like Plutarch, I’ll admit that no one knows the truth of how Cleopatra died. But the preponderance of the evidence still seems to be that she took her fate into her hands and ended her own life…quite possibly with the help of a venomous snake. And for purposes of a historical novelist, suicide by snake was good enough for Margaret George, so it’s good enough for me!
