Augustus, page 8
A WORLD AT WAR
By the time of the Civil War Octavius was living with his mother in the house of his stepfather Philippus. His grandmother Julia had died in 51 BC – her husband presumably some time in the years before that. Although only twelve, Octavius delivered the oration at Julia’s funeral and was praised for his performance. Aristocratic funerals were public events, commencing with a ceremony in the Forum, followed by a procession outside the City where the cremation itself would be carried out. It was an opportunity not simply to praise the deceased, but to parade the achievements of all their ancestors. In the grandest funerals, actors were hired to don the regalia and wear the funeral masks of all the men who in former generations had held high office, making them visible reminders of past glories. It was conventional for a young man of the next generation to deliver the eulogy, connecting him with the great deeds of the past and implicitly promising similar achievements from him in the future.6
This was the first formal occasion where the young Octavius was the centre of attention, bringing him a closer association with his famous – and currently highly controversial – great-uncle. In other respects he was simply one of the teenage aristocrats riding out and exercising in public, meeting and competing with others of his generation. Philippus is said to have taken an active role in the supervision of his stepson, and it is more than likely that Octavius began to accompany him when he went about his business and attended public meetings or the Senate. Both Philippus and Atia daily questioned his paedogogus and tutors about his activities and progress. In later years Atia in particular was held up as an example of the ideal Roman mother:
In the good old days, every man’s son, born in wedlock, was brought up not in the chamber of some hireling nurse, but in his mother’s lap, and at her knee. And that mother could have no higher praise than that she managed the house and gave herself to her children . . . In the presence of such a one no base word could be uttered without grave offence, and no wrong deed done. Religiously and with the utmost diligence she regulated not only the serious tasks of her youthful charges, but their recreations also and their games. It was in this spirit, we are told, that Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, directed their upbringing, Aurelia that of Caesar, Atia of Augustus: thus it was that these mothers trained their princely children.7
Mothers could be distant, and were certainly supposed to be authoritative figures, whose approval needed to be earned, as the child conformed to the behaviour expected by family and state.8 When the Civil War began Atia and Philippus felt that Rome might become dangerous and sent the teenage Octavius to stay in one of his step-father’s villas – we know of at least two, one at Puteoli and the other near Astura (on the coast nearer Rome), but there may have been others. Philippus refused to commit himself to either side. So too did Octavia’s husband Marcellus, the man who had handed the sword to Pompey just a few weeks before. Julius Caesar declared that he would respect such neutrality and only fight those who fought him. The Pompeians, boasting of their defence of law and the Republic, threatened to treat anyone who was not for them as an enemy.9
We do not know when it was felt safe for Octavius to return to Rome, but he was certainly there by late 47 BC, and on 18 October he formally became a man. There was no set age for this ceremony, which tended to occur somewhere between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. Octavius was a few weeks past his sixteenth birthday. The bulla charm placed around his neck as an infant was finally laid aside, and the youth was given his first shave. His hair was also cut. Boys were allowed long, fairly shaggy hair, but a shorter, neater style was appropriate for an adult citizen. Boys also wore the toga praetexta with its purple border – otherwise only worn by magistrates. Octavius now marked his new status by donning instead the man’s plain toga virilis. Yet another of Suetonius’ stories of omens of future glory claims that, in the process of removing his child’s toga, his tunic ripped and fell down around his ankles – signifying that magistrates and Senate would one day be subject to him. As usual it is impossible to know whether this accident happened or was a later invention. After ceremonies held in the family home, male relatives and family friends would escort the new adult through the heart of the City, passing through the Forum and then climbing the Capitoline Hill to the Temple of Jupiter, to sacrifice and make an offering to Iuventus, the god of youth.10
It is just possible that Julius Caesar witnessed this important stage in his great-nephew’s life. He had reached Italy on his return from the east at the end of September, but then had to organise the coming expedition to Africa, quell a mutiny of legionaries who had grown frustrated during his long absence, hold elections, and then get to Sicily by the middle of December. Probably he was too preoccupied to attend, but he was already displaying an interest in the sixteen-year-old. The death of a leading Pompeian at the Battle of Pharsalus left a vacancy in the college of pontiffs. Julius Caesar formally recommended his great-nephew as candidate and the electorate duly obliged.11
Although now officially an adult and one of Rome’s senior priests, Octavius continued to live under the roof of Philippus, while Atia still regulated her son’s life and his education. He was considered an uncommonly handsome lad. His hair curled a little and was slightly blond (subflavum), although such descriptions of colour are hard to judge and may simply mean brown rather than black. He had small teeth, separated by more space than was common; in later life these decayed badly, but they were no doubt better in his youth. His complexion was neither notably dark nor fair, his movements were graceful and his body and limbs so well proportioned that he seemed taller than he was. One of his own freedmen later claimed that as an adult he was more than five foot six inches (five foot nine by the smaller Roman measurements), but this was probably a generous estimate. Octavius clearly saw himself as short, and for much of his life wore shoes with built-up soles in an effort to seem bigger.12
Julius Caesar was a tall man with piercing eyes, and if he could not match his height, his great-nephew liked to feel that his own gaze was powerful. Roman aristocrats were raised with a highly developed sense of their own and their family’s importance. Octavius was especially self-confident, and is said to have gathered a circle of friends around him from an early age. His biographer Nicolaus of Damascus later claimed that he also attracted the attention of predatory older women. In the hope of hiding his charms, he appeared less often at busy times of day when he might be seen, even taking to attending temples only during the hours of darkness. As well educated as their brothers, but barred from public life and married off and divorced to cement or break political alliances, there were plenty of bored senators’ wives with absent or uninterested husbands in Rome. Clodius’ sisters were the frequent subject of gossip about their affairs and their wild lifestyle – one of them was the ‘Lesbia’ of whom the poet Catullus wrote in love, then hatred and longing after she left him. The mother of one of Julius Caesar’s subordinates, Decimus Junius Brutus, was described by a fellow senator in colourful terms:
Among these was Sempronia . . . well blessed by fortune in her birth and physical beauty, as well as her husband and children; well read in Greek and Latin literature, she played the lyre, danced more artfully than any honest woman should, and had many other gifts which fostered a luxurious life. Yet there was never anything she prized so little as her honour and chastity; it was hard to say whether she was less free with her money or her virtue; her lusts were so fierce that she more often pursued men than was pursued by them . . . She had often broken her word, failed to pay her debts, been party to murder; her lack of money but addiction to luxury set her on a wild course. Even so, she was a remarkable woman; able to write poetry, crack a joke, and converse modestly, tenderly or wantonly; all in all she had great gifts and a good many charms.13
The young Octavius is supposed to have resisted the lure of such well-born sirens. Yet aristocratic youths were granted considerable licence when it came to sexual exploits, unlike their sisters. Rome had plenty of brothels, and there were numerous high-class courtesans, who needed to be wooed and cared for in expensive style. Mark Antony was currently having an affair with a mime actress named Cytheris, and had paraded her quite publicly while Julius Caesar was away and he was serving as his deputy in Italy. This was also a slave-owning society, when human beings were property. A slave had no right to resist if his or her owner wished to have sexual intercourse with them.14
Octavius went to Spain for the campaign against Cnaeus Pompeius, but due to illness arrived too late for the fighting. Even so he was welcomed and treated with particular warmth by Julius Caesar. On his return to Rome he moved out of Philippus’ house and took an apartment nearby. Many of the better-class insulae had large flats and it was common for wealthy young men to rent them in the years before they married and acquired a house of their own. The seventeen-year-old still spent a good deal of time with his parents, although occasionally he held dinner parties for his friends. Some of these later claimed that for a whole year he abstained from all sexual activity, seeing this as good for his general health and especially his voice. A man wanting to climb the political ladder needed to be at least a moderately good orator. Yet whatever the professed reason, it is very revealing that a whole year of sexual abstinence was seen as exceptional, not simply for young Roman aristocrats in general, but as an achievement for Octavius in particular.15
DICTATOR
Julius Caesar made himself dictator for just a few days in 49 BC so that he could hold consular elections. He became consul for 48 BC, and again in 46 BC, 45 BC (when initially he was sole consul just as Pompey had been in 52 BC), and 44 BC. When news of Pharsalus reached Rome, he was named dictator again, and held this office for twelve months, double the normal period of dictators in the past with the exception of Sulla. In 46 BC he was named dictator for ten years, although the post was to be formally renewed each year. In the early weeks of 44 BC his dictatorship was made perpetual. Other powers were added. He became overseer of customs/behaviour (praefectura morum), taking over tasks traditionally associated with the censorship which had struggled to be effective in recent decades. In 45 BC the dictator was granted the right to nominate consuls and half the lesser magistrates for the next three years, for he planned a major expedition against the Parthians and so expected to be away for much of this time.16
Yet, for all his power, it is important to remember just how short a time Julius Caesar actually spent in Rome: he fought campaigns in every year except 44 BC, and even then was about to set out for war when he was murdered. There was very little time, and in the years that followed his true intentions were clouded by rumour and propaganda. Even so, the dictator showed all his accustomed restless energy in a flurry of activity, legislation and reform, but it is often difficult to tell how much was actually done rather than simply announced or planned. There was certainly an extensive programme of land distribution to demobilised legionary veterans and the urban poor, following on from his actions as consul in 59 BC. Many were set up on farms in Italy, often taken from the estates of dead Pompeians or purchased with the spoils of war. There were also citizen colonies established in the provinces, most notably at Carthage and Corinth.
The number of magistrates, except for the consuls, was increased, so that there were now forty quaestors and twenty praetors each year. Some of this was motivated by the need to reward loyal followers or newly loyal former Pompeians, but there was also a practical element. With an ever-growing empire to run, there was simply more work for magistrates. Many more senators were nominated, a high proportion of them from the local aristocracies of the Italian towns, but a few from the citizen populations of the Spanish and Gallic provinces. The Senate grew in size to over 900 members, replenished each year when the newly elected quaestors were enrolled in its ranks.17
Pompey had given Rome its first stone theatre, part of a grand complex paid for by the spoils from his victories. Julius Caesar employed the money from Gaul to begin a remodelling of the voting precinct on the Campus Martius. The old saepta was to be paved and walled with marble, and awnings provided to give shade to the citizens as they waited. As dictator he continued this project, rebuilt the Senate House, and began a new forum, the Forum Julium, at an angle from the main Forum and including a temple to his divine ancestor Venus and more space for public business and commerce. Building projects gave well-paid work to the unemployed, and celebrated the glory of the man behind them. Roman aristocrats had long embarked on such monuments to their achievements. It was simply the scale that had changed.18
New laws regulated life and business in Rome itself, Italy and the provinces, and brought some relief to those in debt. The Roman calendar was based on the lunar cycle with a year of 355 days, and required extra months to be inserted into some years by the college of pontiffs in an attempt to keep some connection with the actual seasons. This was subject to politically motivated manipulation and by the middle of the first century BC was badly out of kilter with nature. The Julian calendar is essentially the one we use today, slightly modified in the sixteenth century, and was based on the solar cycle with a year of 364 days and an extra day every fourth year. Three intercalary months were added to 46 BC by the pontiffs, including the young Octavius, so that the year had 446 days and 1 January in the new calendar would begin at something like its proper time. As an honour, the month of Julius Caesar’s birth was renamed Julius – our July.19
This was only one of a flood of honours and privileges offered to the dictator. On his return from the war in Africa he had celebrated four triumphs – one more than Pompey and more than any past hero of the Republic. All of them, for Gaul, Egypt, Asia and Africa, were ostensibly victories over foreign enemies. Even so there were paintings carried in the African triumph showing the deaths of leading Pompeians. When he returned from Spain at the end of 45 BC Julius Caesar openly celebrated a fifth triumph that was blatantly won over fellow Romans in a civil war.20
Yet his policy of clemency remained. Despite some people’s fears, victory did not cause Julius Caesar to unveil hidden cruelty and become a new Sulla. Nor were his supporters permitted free rein to plunder and murder at will. Loyal Caesareans certainly did well – Julius Caesar once said that he would reward even a bandit if the man had served him faithfully. Men gained senatorial rank, high office and provincial commands. Property was confiscated from the estates of dead enemies, but it was not simply given away to his own partisans. Auctions were held, and Mark Antony was one of those surprised to find that the dictator actually expected the high sums bid to be paid. Similarly those who had hoped for an abolition of existing debt – a popular cry in Roman politics was for ‘new account books’ (novae tabulae) – were disappointed by the moderate relief offered to them.21
Octavius received a share of the rewards. He was awarded token military decorations in the African triumph even though he had remained in Italy throughout the conflict. He was also made a patrician as Julius Caesar added to the ranks of the ancient aristocracy, greatly thinned by decay and more recently civil war. His great-nephew’s requests to pardon friends’ relatives who had fought on the Pompeian side were readily approved by the dictator. Octavius received several honorary posts, and a degree of public affection from Julius Caesar. As well as his great-nephew, the dictator had two nephews, the sons of his other sister Julia (not the mother of Atia). Quintus Pedius, the child of her first marriage, was the oldest and served with him in Gaul and the Civil War. Less is known of her son from her second marriage, Lucius Pinarius, and it may be that he was only starting his career. It is impossible to say whether later claims of the particular affection shown to Octavius are inventions. He was only eighteen by the end of 45 BC, too young to be felt particularly noteworthy in public life.22
It was not only the loyal Caesareans who did well in these years. Two of the new praetors to assume office on 1 January 44 BC were Marcus Junius Brutus and Caius Cassius Longinus, both of whom had served with Pompey and only surrendered after Pharsalus. Brutus was the son of Servilia, Cato’s half-sister and Julius Caesar’s long-time mistress, and now received the especially prestigious post of urban praetor. Both men were already probably marked down for the consulship when they became old enough. In most cases petitions to let other Pompeians return from exile were successful. Cicero gave an enthusiastic speech in 46 BC when Julius Caesar permitted the return from exile of Marcus Claudius Marcellus, cousin of Octavia’s husband and the man who as consul in 51 BC had been especially vitriolic in his hostility.
THE IDES OF MARCH
The rule of the dictator was far from harsh, his reforms practical and generally for the wider good of the state. Yet no one should have such vast powers at all, let alone in perpetuity. Sulla had been far more brutal, but at least Sulla had resigned his dictatorship after a few years and retired to private life. Julius Caesar called him ‘a political illiterate’ for doing so, and showed no sign of willingness to give up his dominance of the state. He was in his fifty-sixth year and, although troubled with epilepsy, it was perfectly possible that he would live on for decades. The planned Parthian War would give him the clean glory of fighting a foreign enemy, and add even more to his prestige when he returned in three years or so.23
Julius Caesar had regnum, effectively royal power over the state. The honours given to him were extensions to those granted to the great men of the past – most notably Pompey – but far surpassed them all in scale. He sat on a golden chair of office, wore the triumphing general’s toga and laurel wreath on all public occasions, and was given the right to sport the high boots and long-sleeved tunic which he claimed were the garb of his distant ancestors, the kings of Alba Longa – a city near Rome and a rival in its early history. A pediment, like those on a temple, was added to his house. Other honours brought Julius Caesar very close to divine status, although it is harder to say whether or not he was actually deified in his lifetime. The idea was anyway less shocking to the Romans with their polytheistic tradition than to us. Stories told of heroes who became gods through their deeds, and it was common enough to praise great achievements as ‘god-like’.24
