Not until the midsummer of B.C. 36 were Octavian's naval preparations complete. Agrippa had been his organizer of victory. To him was now entrusted the duty of directing the powerful fighting machine which he had put together. Octavian had prevailed upon Lepidus to cooperate with him against Sextus, and he had drawn up his plan of campaign on lines which promised complete success. His naval forces were divided into three sections. Lepidus, sailing from Africa, was to strike at the western corner of Sicily. Statilius Taurus, with the squadron which Antonius had given him, was to sail from Tarentum and effect a landing on the eastern coast. While Octavian and Agrippa, with the main fleet, were to sail from the Julian Haven and gain a foothold in the northeastern corner. The first of July was chosen as an auspicious day for weighing anchor and it was hoped that the three divisions would reach their objectives simultaneously.
The dispositions of Sextus show that he was fully aware of the points at which danger was threatened. He stationed Plennius at Lilybaeum with one legion and a strong force of light-armed troops to oppose the landing of Lepidus. He held the Liparic Islands in force to prevent their being seized by Agrippa, and he posted his main fleet at Messana in the straits, in readiness to move either against Agrippa or Taurus as opportunity afforded. The son of Neptune, as Sextus delighted to call himself, enjoyed his customary good fortune. Two days after the Octavian fleets had quit harbor a violent storm got up from the south. Taurus immediately put back into Tarentum and placed his squadron out of action, while the rearguard of the main fleet, under Appius, was caught while doubling the promontory of Minerva and sadly crippled. Octavian had taken refuge in the Bay of Velia, in Lucania, but the gale shifted from the south to the southwest and, as it blew straight into the bay, his vessels could find no shelter and many of them were driven upon the rocks. He lost six of his heavy warships, twenty-six of his lighter vessels, and a still larger number of Liburnian galleys, and, since even the ships which escaped total destruction were crippled and needed repair, the expedition was brought to a sudden standstill. Lepidus alone reached his appointed destination. He, too, lost several of his storeships, but effected a landing near Lilybaeum with twelve legions and blockaded Plennius. Octavian was not disheartened even by this unexpected disaster. Owing to the lateness of the season he would have preferred to postpone the expedition until the spring, but public opinion was in too excited and nervous a state to admit of delay. Sending Maecenas to Rome to allay the apprehensions and clamors of the people, he himself crossed over to Tarentum to inspect the fleet of Taurus and give him fresh instructions, and then hurried on the repair of his ships in the harbor of Vibo. Sextus, as usual, threw away his golden opportunities. Pluming himself upon the signal protection vouchsafed to him by Neptune and Providence in the destruction of his enemy's fleet by a gale during the summer months, he permitted Octavian to refit his flotilla in peace when he should have assumed the offensive. He merely sent Menas — who had again joined him — to reconnoiter Octavian's dockyards, and Menas, after cleverly cutting out a number of Octavian's ships to show what might be accomplished by a daring raider, once more changed sides. When at length operations were resumed the war proceeded with varying fortune. Two legions on their way in merchant ships from Africa to reinforce Lepidus were destroyed by Papias, one of Sextus's captains. Octavian and Agrippa maneuvered in order to obtain a landing in the northeastern corner of Sicily. They seized Strongyle, one of the five Aeolian Islands, as a convenient base, and then, seeing that Sextus had posted large forces on the Sicilian shore at Pelorus, Mylae, and Tyndaris, Octavian left Agrippa in command and, returning to Vibo, hastened with Messala and his three legions to the camp of Taurus, near Rhegium, with the idea of crossing the channel and seizing Tauromenium by a sudden coup. During his absence, Agrippa forced a naval engagement with the fleet of Sextus, which he defeated with a loss of thirty ships, and then sailed to attack the town of Tyndaris. He believed that the Pompeian fleet was still at anchor off Mylae, and Octavian, on hearing of Agrippa's victory, promptly sailed for Tauromenium, expecting that little or no opposition would be offered him. But Sextus had divined Octavian's intentions. On the evening of his engagement with Agrippa, he had slipped away unobserved to Messana with most of his ships, leaving only a few vessels at Mylae to delude Agrippa into the belief that the main fleet still lay in that harbor. No sooner, therefore, had Octavian landed at Tauromenium than Sextus made his appearance down the straits with a large squadron and at the same time his cavalry and infantry were fast approaching. The cavalry came up before Octavian's troops had time to entrench their camp, and wrought considerable execution, and a simultaneous attack by the fleet and the infantry would probably have resulted in his entire destruction. His men, however, completed their camp during the night and, on the following morning, Octavian placed all the infantry in charge of Cornificius and himself went on shipboard to do battle with the enemy.
The fight lasted the whole day and resulted in a decisive victory for Sextus. Most of Octavian's ships were sunk or captured, and though he managed to reach the Italian coast in safety, only a single armor bearer was left to escort the Triumvir to the sheltering camp of Messala. Thence he sent word to Agrippa apprising him of the disaster and begging him to send what aid he could to Cornificius. The latter, completely isolated and with no store of provisions, boldly decided to march across the mountains, and, after a terrible journey, during which his men were harassed by the enemy and tortured by the heat and want of water, he fell in with Laronius and the three legions which Agrippa had dispatched to his assistance. But the blow which Octavian had received was too serious to be kept secret and again he was obliged to send Maecenas to Rome to put down the revolutionists who were causing disorder. Happily, however, for himself, he found in Messala — one of the proscribed whose death warrant he had himself signed — a most loyal lieutenant, and contrived to transport his army from the mainland to the port of Tyndaris, which Agrippa had succeeded in capturing. There he assembled an army of 20,000 legionaries and 5,000 light-armed troops, while the main fleet lay at anchor in the bay. Sextus held the defiles which led to the northeastern corner of the island and the coast towns, but soon afterwards abandoned Mylae and concentrated his forces at Pelorus and Messana. Meanwhile Lepidus, after slowly traversing the island from Lilybaeum, was now within touch of his colleague, and the fleet of Taurus was busy ravaging the coast towns upon which Sextus depended for his supplies. Despairing of success against the overwhelming land forces of Octavian and Lepidus fast converging upon him, Sextus determined to stake everything upon a final naval engagement. Three hundred ships of war were engaged on either side and the battle in the Bay of Naulochus was fiercely contested. Agrippa had provided each of his captains with a powerful grappling-iron, called the harpago, a stout iron-shod beam, five cubits long, with an iron claw attached to the end. This was thrown by a catapult upon the enemy's deck and machine power drew the two ships together as soon as the claw had obtained a firm grip. The ordinary naval tactics of the time were rendered useless by this device and the two squadrons closed and fought in one confused mass. Victory at length inclined to the Octavians and only seventeen ships of the Pompeian fleet managed to escape to Messana. Seeing that the day was lost, Sextus fled without waiting to give orders to his infantry and the whole Pompeian land force at Naulochus surrendered without striking a blow. Then, hurriedly placing his most portable treasures upon shipboard at Messana, Sextus fled away to Lesbos in the hope of extorting from Antonius a share in the sovereignty of the East. After some brief successes in Bithynia, he was made prisoner and put to death at Miletus in his fortieth year. He can hardly be said — despite the name he bore — to have been the head of a political faction, though he naturally rallied to his standard all those who were driven to fly from the vengeance of the conquering Triumvirs. Sextus was little better than a freebooter, a corsair chief, whose hand was against every man. Cicero and the Republican leaders after the murder of Julius had shunned him as one who had ceased to be a true Roman. He had been the associate and patron of pirates in Cilicia. He had lived as a guerilla leader in Spain. His admirals were ex-slaves and freedmen whose services his proud and exclusive father would have disdained to employ. And the amazing success which attended him for so many years was due not so much to his military capacity as to his perception of the overwhelming importance to be attached to the command of the sea. Italy could be starved. Sextus recognized this obvious truth and acted upon it. While the other aspirants for power were quarreling among themselves and collecting legions, he gathered ships and gained the undisputed control of the Western Mediterranean. If he had possessed any real strategical ability, he might have won for himself a place in the Triumvirate. Time and again, fortune favored the superior skill of his sailors. Repeatedly the shattered fleets of Octavian lay at his mercy. But he never once rose to the full height of his opportunities. He always awaited attack, and the persistency of Octavian and Agrippa was bound to win in the long run.
With the ignominous flight of Sextus from Messana, the success of Octavian's Sicilian campaign was assured. Yet before it closed it was destined to take yet another entirely unexpected turn. Soon after Sextus quit the island, his lieutenant, Plennius, entered Messana unopposed with eight legions. The reduction of this strongly fortified town was assigned to Agrippa and Lepidus jointly, while Octavian remained in camp at Naulochus. Plennius was in no mood to fight to the death for a chief who had forsaken him and he intrigued with Lepidus, to whom he agreed to surrender the city on the understanding that his soldiers should have an equal share with those of Lepidus in the plunder it afforded. Agrippa protested, but in vain. The soldiers of Lepidus were admitted into the city, and Plennius and his troops immediately ranged themselves under Lepidus' standard. This new accession of strength seems to have turned the brain of the Triumvir. He boldly claimed Sicily as his own prize. He had been despoiled, he said, of the provinces which had previously been allotted to him and was now determined to hold what he had won. Octavian, hastening up from Naulochus to meet this unforeseen danger, had a stormy interview with his colleague and they parted in hot anger and prepared for battle. But once more the legions refused to adopt their masters' quarrels. They were sick of civil war, and intrigue took the place of fighting. Octavian's emissaries were busy in the camp of Lepidus, where they found no enthusiasm for so indolent and incapable a commander, and Octavian resolved upon the daring expedient of riding up with a body of horsemen, which he left at the entrance, while he entered the camp almost alone. His boldness nearly cost him his life. Lepidus called to arms and Octavian in the confusion was struck with a javelin upon the breastplate. But though he was driven from the camp, detachment after detachment of the Lepidan army transferred their standards to his side, and eventually Lepidus was left absolutely alone. Throwing off his military garb, he approached the victor to beg for mercy, and found Octavian in a generous mood after so bloodless a victory. His life was spared, and though the African command was taken from him, Octavian permitted him to retain the chief priesthood.
Such was the end of Lepidus' insane ambition. According to Suetonius, he was first confined to a residence at Circeii and then, says Cassius Dio, was recalled to Rome in order that his humilation might be the more conspicuous. His character need not detain us. Julius had appointed him Master of the Horse during his first dictatorship, and Julius, as a rule, showed a shrewd knowledge of men. But whatever promise Lepidus may have displayed in his earlier career was falsified in his later years. He owed the position he attained to his high rank, to his great wealth, and to the timely aid which, on more than one occasion, he had lent to Antonius at critical moments in the latter's career. But he had neither energy nor ability enough to retain his place in the Triumvirate, and when his patron removed to the East his fall was certain. The rash challenge which he flung down to Octavian was the act of a madman and precipitated his unlamented ruin.
Octavian was now the undisputed head of an enormous army and a powerful and victorious fleet. Forty-five legions of infantry, 25,000 horsemen, and 40,000 light-armed troops acknowledged him as their general and 600 warships sailed under his flag. Africa and Sicily were added to his command, and from the latter alone he wrung a tribute of 1,600 talents. But though there was no enemy in open arms against him he still had to reckon with the turbulent and disaffected temper of his troops. Some of the legions broke into open mutiny, demanding their discharge and rewards equal to those given to the men who had fought at Philippi. Finding that the troops could not be browbeaten into obedience he had recourse to conciliation, and by dexterously discharging and sending away from Sicily the most insubordinate, by distributing 500 drachmae per man to the remainder, and holding out promises of more, he quelled the mutiny and returned to Rome triumphant. There is no reason to doubt the sincerity of the welcome which was accorded to Octavian alike by the Senate and by the people of Rome. The defeat and flight of Sextus Pompeius had relieved them of all apprehension of famine. Corn had stood at famine prices throughout the years that Sextus had been master of Sicily, and the ill-success which had attended Octavian's previous campaigns had created widespread depression and disaffection. The whole of the Italian peninsula was exhausted with the long wars through which it had passed, with the pillage it had suffered from the legions which had marched and countermarched incessantly throughout its length and breadth, and from the bands of runaway slaves who had taken advantage of the paralysis of the administrative machine to quit their masters and live by indiscriminate plunder. The one passionate desire of Italy and Rome was for peace and quiet, for an opportunity to recuperate, for a breathing space during which they might once more be free from war's alarms. There was only one man in the West who could give them what they wanted. That man was Octavian, and though he was their master — and Rome never loved its masters — he could at least guarantee them security. The youthful conqueror — he was still but twenty-seven years of age — approached the capital with words of conciliation upon his lips. Summoning the people to assemble outside the pomerium — a concession to the letter of a law which had repeatedly been broken by himself as well as by others — he promised them peace and clemency. He declared that the civil wars were over. That there was no longer any necessity for bloodshed, and that the Triumvirate, which the people detested so heartily, should come to an end as soon as his colleague Antonius had brought his Parthian campaigns to a conclusion and they might both, with safety to themselves, lay down their extraordinary powers. To mark the happy occasion, he remitted outstanding arrears of debt to the Treasury and abolished several taxes, restored to the urban magistrates the free exercise of their old powers, and ostentatiously burnt in public a number of important letters, which he had seized in Sicily, containing proof of the guilty correspondence which some of the leading men in Rome had maintained with Sextus Pompeius. The people accepted his pledges and promises with enthusiasm. They voted him a public residence on the Palatine and proposed to take away the chief priesthood from the now friendless and humiliated Lepidus and confer it upon his conqueror. Octavian refused. He remained content with an ovation for his Sicilian victories and with the erection of a marble column in the Forum, surmounted with a golden image of himself which bore the inscription, "Peace, long disturbed, be reestablished on land and sea." Nor were these honors the less merited because they were paid not to the champion but to the subverter of the Roman Republic.
Octavian now enters upon a new phase of his wonderful career. He had achieved success. It remained for him to prove that he deserved it. The Triumvirate by the degradation of Lepidus had been reduced to a Duumvirate. Lepidus' share had fallen to him and his course lay tolerably clear before him. Sooner or later, there must come a rupture with Antonius and a fight to the death for single undisputed supremacy. For that, he must prepare cautiously but surely, and this was the object to which he now bent his unremitting energies and his consummate and sagacious statecraft. Five years were to elapse before the rivals decided their quarrel at Actium, and the authorities for this important period of Octavian's life are unhappily meager and unsatisfactory. Yet the glimpses which are afforded us of the resolute young ruler, girding himself to prepare for the inevitable, enable us fully to understand why he succeeded and why Antonius failed. Octavian saw that the most pressing need of his time was decent government, decent administration, and a decent executive. And these he determined to give to Rome.