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 1^ 
 
 
Heroes of the Nations 
 
 Series of Biographical Studies presenting the 
 lives and work of certain representative histori- 
 cal characters, about whom have gathered the 
 traditions of the nations to which they belong, 
 and who have, in the majority of instances, been 
 accepted as types of the several national ideals. 
 
 12°, Illustrated, cloth, each . . $1.50 
 Half Leather, gilt top, each . . $i«75 
 Nos. 33 and following Nos. . . net $1.35 
 Each ... (By mail, $1.50) 
 Half Leather, gilt top . . . net $1.60 
 
 (By mail, $1.75) 
 
 FOR FULL LIST SEE END OF THIS VOLUME 
 
tberoes of tbe iRattons 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 Evelyn Bbbott, /TO.B. 
 
 FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 FACTA DUCI8 VIVENT 0PEH08AQUE 
 GLORIA flERUM.— OVID, IN LIVIAM, 2S6. 
 THE HERO'S DEEDS AND HARD-WON 
 FAME SHALL LIVE. 
 
 AUGUSTUS CAESAR 
 
AUGUSTUS. 
 
 IN THE BRACCIO NUOVO, VATICAN LIBRARY, ROME. 
 
AUGUSTUS C^SAR 
 
 AND THE ORGANISATION OF THE 
 EMPIRE OF ROME 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 
 JOHN B. FIRTH, B.A. 
 
 (late scholar of queen's college, oxford) 
 
 TRANSLATOR OF THE LETTERS OF PLINY 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK LONDON 
 
 27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 
 
 a;^e limckerbochtt f r«s 
 1903 
 
THE LltiRAKY OF 
 CONGRtSS, 
 
 Two Copies Received 
 
 FEB 16 1903 
 
 Copyright bnuy 
 
 CLASS CL XXc. No. 
 
 COPY B. 
 
 Copyright, igoa 
 
 BY 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 Published, February, 1903 
 
 ^ 
 
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 Ube ftniclierbocfter |^re88♦ Hew 19orft 
 
Uxori Mece 
 
 Filioloque Nostra 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THERE is, so far as I have been able to ascer- 
 tain, no biography in English of Augustus — 
 a most curious fact when one considers the 
 extraordinary success of his career and the enormous 
 importance of the work which he accomplished. 
 Perhaps the reason of this apparent neglect may be 
 found in the circumstance that his character is one 
 of the most puzzling of antiquity. The Emperor 
 JuHan compared him to a chameleon; Augustus 
 himself signed his State papers with a ring bearing 
 the device of a Sphinx. Both the man and his work 
 remain " a contradiction still " ; theory and practice in 
 his case persistently refuse to be reconciled ; one can 
 rarely feel quite sure at any given point in Augus- 
 tus's life that one knows exactly what he had in 
 his mind. We know him best in the early portion 
 of his career, when Cicero was still writing his in- 
 comparable letters and delivering his incomparable 
 speeches. After Cicero's murder, the authorities 
 become meagre and unsatisfactory. In this volume 
 I have attempted to give a clear account of what 
 Augustus achieved in the establishment of the Ro- 
 man Empire, and at the same time to reveal the 
 
vi Preface 
 
 man, in so far as he reveals himself by his actions. 
 Augustus does not belong to the category of the 
 world's great men who can be labelled with a single 
 or a simple adjective. 
 
 This volume may be considered to some extent as 
 a sequel to the earUer volume on Julius Caesar in 
 this series which was written by Mr. W. Warde 
 Fowler. It also inevitably overlaps to a certain de- 
 gree the volume on Cicero, written by Mr. J. L. 
 Strachan-Davidson. I hope it may be found not 
 wholly unworthy to take a place by the side of those 
 two brilliant studies. My obligations to the in- 
 numerable scholars and historians who have worked 
 and tilled the same ground before me are exceed- 
 ingly great. For the earlier period I may specially 
 mention the illuminative essays in the great Dublin 
 edition of The Letters of Cicero ; for the constitu- 
 tional changes introduced by Augustus, Mr. A. H. J. 
 Greenidge's Roman Public Life ; and for the pro- 
 vincial administration, Professor Mommsen's well- 
 known work, The Provinces of the Roman Empire, 
 
 J. B. R 
 
 London, October, 1902. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE SEQUEL TO THE IDES OF MARCH. MARCH 15 
 
 TO APRIL 10, 44 B.C. ..... I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 OCTAVIUS CLAIMS HIS HERITAGE. APRIL TO JULY, 
 
 44 B.C. ........ 10 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE GATHERING STORM. JULY TO OCTOBER, 44 B.C. 23 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 OCTAVIAN AND THE SENATE. OCTOBER, 44, TO 
 
 MARCH, 43 B.C. 
 
 38 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN OF MUTINA : OCTAVIAN BREAKS 
 WITH THE SENATE AND SEIZES ROME. MARCH 
 TO AUGUST, 43 B.C. ..... $2 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE AND THE CAMPAIGN OF PHILIPPI. 
 
 43-42 B.C 73 
 
 vii 
 
viii Contents 
 
 CHAPTER VI PAGE 
 
 THE PERUSIAN WAR : RENEWAL OF THE TRIUM- 
 VIRATE. 41-36 B.C 94 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST SEXTUS AND DEPOSITION 
 
 OF LEPIDUS. 36 B.C II7 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE FALL OF ANTONIUS. 36-30 B.C. . . . I29 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE NEW REGIME 153 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 AUGUSTUS AND HIS POWERS. 30-23 B C. . . 166 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 THE THEORY OF THE PRINCIPATE .... 180 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 AUGUSTUS AS A SOCIAL AND RELIGIOUS REFORMER . I99 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 THE ORGANISATION OF THE PROVINCES . . . 222 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 MiECENAS AND AGRIPPA ..... 236 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE ROMANISATION OF THE WEST .... 254 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE EASTERN FRONTIER ..... 266 
 
Contents ix 
 
 CHAPTER XVII PAGE 
 
 EGYPT, AFRICA, AND PALESTINE .... 276 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE DANUBE AND THE RHINE .... 29O 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE IMPERIAL FAMILY 320 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE MAN AND THE STATESMAN .... 34I 
 
 INDEX . , 367 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 AUGUSTUS Frontispiece 
 
 In the Braccio Nuovo, Vatican Library, Rome, 
 
 SPOT WHERE THE BODY OF JULIUS WAS CREMATED 
 From Lanciani's Neiv Tales of Old Rome. 
 
 THE YOUNG AUGUSTUS 
 
 From the bust in the Vatican (Baumeister). 
 
 CICERO ......... 
 
 From a bust now in the Royal Gallery in Mad- 
 rid. 
 
 THE FORUM AS SEEN FROM THE CAPITOL 
 
 The Temple of Saturn in the foreground, in the 
 background a portion of the Arch of Titus and 
 the ruins of the Colosseum (Baumeister). 
 
 COIN OF JULIUS C^SAR AND MARCUS ANTONIUS 
 
 (cohen) 
 
 SMALL COINS OF AUGUSTUS (cOHEn) 
 
 coin of BRUTUS (cOHEN) 
 
 COIN OF MARCUS ANTONIUS AND OCTAVIUS 
 
 (cohen) . 
 
 MAP OF THE CAMPAIGN ABOUT MUTINA . 
 
 xi 
 
 30 
 
 46 
 
 ^ 
 
 60 "' 
 
 60 
 
 60 
 
 60*^ 
 
Xll 
 
 Illustrations 
 
 MARCUS BRUTUS 
 
 From the bust in the Museum of the Capitol in 
 Rome, Visconti (Baumeister). 
 
 COIN OF CLEOPATRA (bRITISH MUSEUm) . 
 
 COIN OF MARCUS ANTONIUS AND OCTAVIA 
 
 COIN OF MARCUS ANTONIUS, OCTAVIA, AND OC- 
 
 TAVIUS (cOHEN) ..... 
 
 COIN OF sextus pompeius (babelon) . 
 
 MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE CAMPAIGNS AGAINST 
 POMPEIUS ...... 
 
 RUINS OF THE PALATINE .... 
 
 From a photograph by Alinari. 
 
 MARCUS ANTONIUS ..... 
 
 In the Vatican Museum, Rome. 
 
 THE SUPPOSED TEMPLE OF VESTA 
 From a photograph by Alinari. 
 
 COIN OF CLEOPATRA AND MARCUS ANTONIUS 
 (cohen) 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS CELEBRATING THE CAPTURE OF 
 EGYPT (cOHEN) ...... 
 
 COIN OF ORODES I. OF PARTHIA (BRITISH MUSEUm) . 
 COIN OF AMYNTAS, KING OF GALATIA (BRITISH 
 
 museum) 
 
 REMAINS OF THE ARCH OF AUGUSTUS 
 
 From Lanciani's New Tales of Old Rome, 
 
 TEMPLE OF MARS ULTOR 
 
 From a photograph by Alinari. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 92 -^ 
 
 102 " 
 
 102 J 
 
 102 
 
 102 
 
 118 
 128 
 
 148 
 
 156 
 
 170 
 
 170 
 170 
 
 170 
 
 188 
 
 202 
 
Illustrations 
 
 Xlll 
 
 THEATRE OF MARCELLUS .... 
 
 From photograph by Alinari. 
 
 THE PANTHEON ...... 
 
 From a photograph by Alinari. 
 
 HEAD OF AUGUSTUS AS FRATER ARVALIS 
 
 From Lanciani's Nexv Talcs of Old Rome. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS (cOHEn) .... 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS TO CELEBRATE PEACE (cOHEn) 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS TO CELEBRATE THE RECOVERY 
 OF ARMENIA (cOHEn) .... 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS TO CELEBRATE THE RESTORA 
 TION OF THE ROMAN PRISONERS FROM PARTHIA 
 
 (cohen) 
 
 CONTORNIATE OF HORACE (BRITISH MUSEUm) 
 
 MARCUS AGRIPPA 
 
 From the statue in Venice. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS AND AGRIPPA (cOHEn) 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS (bRITISH MUSEUm) . 
 
 COIN OF MUSA. COIN OF ORODES (BRITISH MUSEUM 
 
 STATER OF ANTIOCH (BRITISH MUSEUm) . 
 
 AUGUSTUS AND IMPERIAL ROME 
 
 From a reproduction from Wieseler's Denkmdler 
 der alien Kiinst of the cameo in Venice. 
 
 COIN OF HEROD THE GREAT (BRITISH MUSEUm) 
 COIN OF DRySUS AND TIBERIUS (cOHEn) 
 COIN OF ANTONIA AUGUSTA (cOHEn) 
 
 PAGE 
 
 206 
 
 214 ^ 
 
 230 
 230 
 
 230 
 
 230 
 
 242 V 
 
 248 -' 
 
 256 ^ 
 
 256 ^ 
 256 
 
 256 ^ 
 264 ^ 
 
 280 ' 
 
 280 *" 
 
 280 "^ 
 
XIV 
 
 Ilhistrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 COIN OF CAIUS C^SAR (cOHEn) .... 280^ 
 
 TIBERIUS 294 ./ 
 
 From the statue in the Vatican Museum, Rome. 
 
 MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE RHINE FRONTIER . . 30O 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS AND LIVIA (cOHEN) . . . 310 
 
 coin struck by tiberius in memory of augustus 
 
 (cohen) 310 
 
 cameo of julia as diana ..... 322 
 
 From the British Museum. 
 
 THE FAMILY OF AUGUSTUS ..... 332 
 Relief in San Vitale at Ravenna. 
 
 LIVIA AS PRIESTESS OF AUGUSTUS .... 342 
 From Pompeii, in the Museum at Naples. 
 
 CAMEO OF AUGUSTUS WITH AN ^GIS . . . 362 
 
 From the British Museum. 
 
 MAP SHOWING THE ROMAN EMPIRE AT THE DEATH 
 
 OF AUGUSTUS 364 
 

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AUGUSTUS C^SAR 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 THE SEQUEL TO THE IDES OF MARCH 
 
 March 15 to April 10, 44 B.C. 
 
 WHEN Julius Caesar fell, pierced with twenty- 
 three wounds, at the foot of Pompeius' 
 statue in the Senate House at Rome, the 
 Roman world was left without a master. The con- 
 spirators had slain the one man strong enough to 
 evolve order out of the chaos into which the Repub- 
 lic had been plunged. They had destroyed Caesar, 
 and with him they had hoped to destroy Caesarism. 
 But the sole result of their act of assassination was 
 to throw the State for a period of thirteen miserable 
 years into a constant succession of civil wars, out of 
 which emerged, triumphant and alone, the command- 
 ing figure of Augustus, who shattered for ever the 
 Roman Republic, and founded upon its ruins the ma- 
 jestic structure of the Empire. Yet not one of those 
 who took part in the tragedy of the Ides of March, 
 
 I 
 
2 A^igMstus CcBsar [44 b.c> 
 
 and not one of the leading statesmen of the day, seems 
 to have given a passing thought to him who was to 
 profit most by the crime which was then committed. 
 Neither Brutus nor Caesar, neither Antonius nor 
 Lepidus, neither Cicero nor any of his associates, im- 
 agined that a youth who was pursuing his military 
 studies at ApoUonia was destined to set all their 
 calculations at naught and to prove himself the ablest 
 and strongest of them all. Octavius, however, does 
 not enter upon the scene until a month after the 
 assassination of his grand-uncle and adopted father, 
 and it will be well, therefore, to describe in brief the 
 course of events from the 15th of March, B.C. 44, 
 down to the middle of April, when he returned to 
 Italy. 
 
 It was a troubled and anxious time for all, but 
 especially for the Republican chiefs. There is no 
 occasion here to analyse the motives which had led 
 Brutus, Cassius, and their fellow-conspirators to plot 
 the assassination of Caesar. They were men of widely 
 different types ; all had been generously treated by 
 their victim, and most had been selected by him 
 for high ofificial posts. But it is important to lay 
 stress upon their unanimous conviction that if only 
 Julius were removed, the Republic might be restored 
 upon its old footing, as it was prior to the outbreak 
 of the civil war between Caesar and Pompeius. They 
 believed, in short, that the Roman people were at 
 heart thoroughly devoted to the ancient constitu- 
 tion, and that, once Caesar was put out of the way, 
 the Senate would reassert its control of public affairs, 
 and the oligarchical families, to which they them- 
 
44 B.C.] Inti'oductio7i 
 
 selves belonged, resume their wonted places in the 
 State. But they had been rudely undeceived on the 
 very day of the assassination. When they marched 
 to the Forum from the Curia, waving their bloody 
 daggers and crying out that they had slain the 
 tyrant, they had been received with chilling silence. 
 So far from being enthusiastically hailed as saviours 
 of their country, the people held aloof from them; 
 Caesar's veterans had raised menacing shouts, and 
 Marcus Brutus himself was scarcely vouchsafed a 
 hearing. Hence they had slunk back to the Capi- 
 tol, glad of the security which the presence of the 
 swordsmen of Decimus Brutus afforded them. It was 
 but little compensation for their bitter disappoint- 
 ment that Cicero and a number of other Senators 
 climbed the hill of the Capitol to congratulate them 
 on their deed and join their councils. 
 
 There they spent in fruitless debate the liours 
 which should have been devoted to strenuous and 
 decisive action. Acting on the recommendation of 
 Brutus, they had spared Marcus Antonius, Caesar's 
 colleague in the consulship. Nor did they appre- 
 hend any danger from Lepidus, the Master of the 
 Horse, who was just on the point of starting to take 
 up his command in Gaul and Spain. They mistook 
 their men. As soon as Antonius heard that Caesar 
 had fallen, he made himself secure in his house and 
 opened communications with Lepidus, who assured 
 him of support and moved a detachment of his 
 troops into the city with orders to seize and hold the 
 Forum. On the morning of the i6th, Antonius took 
 steps to gain possession of Caesar's private papers 
 
4 Azigustus CcBsar [44 B.C. 
 
 and treasure, and laid hands upon the seven million 
 sesterces which were stored in the Temple of Ops. 
 The conspirators again harangued the people and 
 again met with a frigid reception. Brutus declaimed 
 against the tyranny of the dead usurper and boldly 
 claimed the favour of his hearers on behalf of Sextus 
 Pompeius and the banished defenders of the Re- 
 public. But there was no popular response, and he 
 and his friends returned to the Capitol and there de- 
 cided to treat with the Consul Antonius and request 
 him to convene a meeting of the Senate for the fol- 
 lowing day. 
 
 The Senate, accordingly, met in the Temple of 
 Tellus in the Carinae and, surrounded by the cohorts of 
 Lepidus, debated the question of the hour. The fate 
 of Romehung uponthedecision that might be reached. 
 The Liberators sought to obtain from the Senate a 
 formal justification of their action, but dared not lay 
 before the meeting the true alternative policies. A 
 justification of the murder ought logically to have 
 been accompanied by a reversal of Caesar's decrees 
 and Caesar's official appointments. But they them- 
 selves held their appointments from Caesar, and they 
 had already recognised the succession of Dolabella, 
 the Consul-designate, to the consulship which Caesar's 
 murder had just made vacant. They had no soldiers 
 at their command, except the gladiators of Decimus 
 Brutus, while the city was full of Caesar's veterans, 
 and the Forum was held by the troops of Lepidus, 
 acting in concert with Antonius. The conspirators, 
 therefore, realised the essential weakness of their 
 position, and felt obliged to temporise, especially as 
 
44 B.C.I Introduction 
 
 they were suspicious of Antonius, though he spoke 
 them fair and promised to co-operate with them 
 in the task of restoring order and public confidence. 
 They were, in fact, practically helpless ; the control 
 of events had passed into other hands than theirs. 
 Consequently, after many hours of anxious debate, 
 the Senate passed an act of general amnesty, but 
 confirmed the decrees and appointments of the dead 
 Dictator. This was plainly a confession of weakness 
 on the part of all the contending parties. Each 
 wanted time to form new combinations ; each felt 
 that the chance of immediate success was too pre- 
 carious to put fortune to the test. Antonius, Lepi- 
 dus, and Cicero all urged the same course — to say 
 nothing of the murder of Csesar, to forget the past, 
 and to begin again. 
 
 There could be no finality in a compromise which 
 solved nothing. The refusal of the Senate to ap- 
 prove or condemn, as a body, an act which each 
 Senator violently approved or violently condemned 
 in his own conscience was dictated solely by the de- 
 sire to evade a definite decision which was bound to 
 lead to blows. The ratification of Caesar's acts was 
 a public confession that his regime was not de- 
 stroyed; the amnesty granted ''for the sake of 
 peace " was a futile compromise which could not 
 last. When, therefore, the friends of Csesar boldly 
 and successfully urged the Senate to sanction a pub- 
 lic funeral, Atticus shrewdly observed to Cicero that 
 '* all was lost." It only needed a spark to light a 
 conflagration. For the moment, however, a hollow 
 truce was patched up. Lepidus banqueted Brutus, 
 
6 Augustus CcBsar [44 b.C, 
 
 and Antonius invited Cassius to sup with him. 
 Then, on the nnorrovv, the Senate formally confirmed 
 the Liberators in the offices to which Caesar had 
 appointed them. Marcus Brutus was to proceed to 
 Macedonia; Decimus to Cisalpine Gaul; Cassius to 
 Syria ; Trebonius to Asia, and Cimber to Bithynia, 
 as soon as the year was out. But there were nine 
 fateful months still to run before they could lawfully 
 take up their respective commands ; and, meanwhile, 
 Brutus and Cassius were bound to remain in the city 
 to fulfil their praetorian duties. They might flatter 
 themselves with the certain prospect of military 
 power when they reached their provinces, but for 
 the remainder of the year Antonius was supreme. 
 He was Consul ; he had the legionaries of Lepidus 
 at his beck and call ; he had one brother among the 
 praetors, and another among the tribunes ; and, above 
 all, he controlled the treasures of the State, which he 
 skilfully employed to purchase the support of the 
 doubtful and reward the services of his friends. The 
 Senate entrusted him with the duty of superintend- 
 ing the public funeral of Caesar, and providing against 
 any breach of the peace. 
 
 How he carried out his instructions is known to 
 every one from the pages of Plutarch and Shake- 
 speare. When the funeral procession reached the 
 Forum and the bier was placed before the rostrum, 
 Antonius, as chief magistrate, stepped forward to 
 pronounce the oration over the dead. With consum- 
 mate skill he recited the honours which the Senate 
 had heaped upon Caesar, the titles they had showered 
 upon him of " Consecrate," " Inviolable," '' Father 
 
44 B.C.] Introdttction 
 
 of his Country." And the Senate had slain him! 
 Claiming only to speak as the dead man's friend, he 
 passionately declared that he was prepared to avenge 
 the victim he had not been able to save. Then, 
 when the Senators around him murmured their dis- 
 approval at the tone of his address, he artfully 
 pretended to allay the dangerous passions he had 
 aroused, by saying that Caesar's death must have been 
 a judgment of the gods. Divine power alone could 
 have destroyed so potent a divinity and so god-Hke 
 a man. Then, approaching the bier, he broke into 
 a wild invocation, chanting the praises of the con- 
 queror who had avenged the defeats of the Roman 
 arms, and had never lost a battle. The waxen ^^%yy 
 which shewed every red and gaping wound, was held 
 aloft to excite the compassion of the vast assembly, 
 and Antonius himself seized the blood-stained toga 
 which Caesar had worn on the Ides of March, and 
 waved it in the air to display the rents made by the 
 pitiless daggers. The clever actor had played his 
 part well. He had roused his excitable hearers to a 
 state of frenzy. The seething crowd in the Forum 
 refused to allow the body of their murdered patron 
 to be taken outside the walls to the Field of Mars. 
 Cries were raised that the last rites should be per- 
 formed in the adjoining Temple of Jupiter, and the 
 ashes of the dead deposited at the shrine of the god. 
 When the priests came forward and stayed this act 
 of profanation, the crowd rushed into the neigh- 
 bouring houses, stripped them of their benches and 
 tables, and built the funeral pyre in the Forum it- 
 self. Overcome by uncontrollable emotion, Caesar's 
 
8 Augustus CcBsar [44 b.c. 
 
 veterans cast their arms upon the blazing pyre ; 
 women and children threw their trinkets and jewels 
 into the flames, and the body of the Dictator was 
 consumed amid the lamentations of the whole people. 
 Violence formed the inevitable accompaniment of this 
 dramatic scene, and it was fortunate for Brutus and his 
 friends that they had been wise enough to withdraw 
 from public observation on so dangerous a day. 
 
 Antonius had raised the storm ; it was Antonius 
 who quelled it. But the tumult which he had so 
 artfully contrived strengthened his position enorm- 
 ously. It helped to shatter the nerves — never very 
 strong — of the Republicans and their sympathisers. 
 After the scene in the Forum it was idle for Brutus 
 and Cassius to delude themselves with the belief 
 that the murder was popular with the people of 
 Rome. Antonius, therefore, felt strong enough to 
 invite them to his councils, and shew a conciliatory 
 front. He summoned frequent meetings of the 
 Senate, reassured the House by his constitutional 
 procedure, and further gained its confidence by 
 moving that the obnoxious office of Dictator should 
 be for ever abolished. The proposal was carried by 
 acclamation, and the attitude of the Consul seemed 
 so frank and honest that Cicero was led to break 
 out into the exulting cry that Rome was at length 
 delivered not only from kingly rule, but even from 
 all apprehension of it. Antonius pretended to be 
 reconciled with his colleague, Dolabella, and the 
 Senate voted him permission to enrol a body-guard 
 of six thousand soldiers for his personal protection. 
 He made good use of his power. Relying upon the 
 
I- 
 < 
 
 IT -. 
 O ^ 
 
 « g 
 
44 B.C.] Introduction 
 
 ratification of Caesar's acts by the Senate, he boldly 
 claimed the same authority for the notes and mem- 
 oranda which he had found amongst Caesar's papers 
 and, when genuine memoranda were lacking, forged 
 others to suit his purpose. The Senators had given 
 themselves over, bound, into his hands, and even 
 when they saw that they were being tricked their 
 protests were ineffectual. The Consul ruled in the 
 dead Caesar's name and by the dead Caesar's author- 
 ity ; surrounded by his six thousand swordsmen, he 
 turned his mansion into a strong fortress, while the 
 State treasure which he had seized in the Temple of 
 Ops supplied him with abundant resources. So 
 secure did he feel that he even quitted the city and 
 proceeded to Campania to superintend a new assign- 
 ment of lands to the veterans under the provisions of 
 an agrarian law which his brother Lucius, the tribune, 
 had brought forward. Meanwhile, his colleague, 
 Dolabella, to whom he had left the administration of 
 Rome, set to work to undermine his position, and 
 levelled to the ground the monuments of Caesar. 
 During Antonius' absence the nobles again plucked 
 up a momentary courage, and Cicero, from his villa 
 at Puteoli, lauds Dolabella to the skies. "■ Our 
 friend Dolabella is doing amazingly well," he writes ; 
 ''he is quite one of us now." Thus, from day to 
 day, the miserable round of intrigue went on until 
 the middle of April, when Octavius returned to claim 
 his patrimony. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 OCTAVIUS CLAIMS HIS HERITAGE 
 April to July 44 B.C. 
 
 CAIUS OCTAVIUS, at this time a mere strip- 
 ling of eighteen, was the grand-nephew of 
 Julius Caesar. His father, Caius Octavius 
 the elder, who died when his son was but four years 
 of age, had rendered good service to the State and 
 had won the praise of Cicero for his just and vigor- 
 ous administration of the province of Macedonia. 
 He had married twice, his second wife being Atia, 
 daughter of Marcus Atius Balbus and of Julia, 
 the younger sister of Julius, and the only son of 
 this marriage, was born in October of the year 6^ 
 B.C., during the consulship of Cicero and Caius 
 Antonius. Suetonius narrates how on the day of 
 his birth the Senate was deliberating on the con- 
 spiracy of Catiline, and the father came late to the 
 meeting. His tardy arrival attracted attention, and 
 Publius Nigidius, on hearing the cause and ascer- 
 taining the hour of the child's birth, at once de- 
 clared, " The Lord of the World has been born." 
 The story is almost certainly as apocryphal as the 
 
44 B. C] Octavius Claims his Heritage 1 1 
 
 others which are recorded of Octavius' boyhood, and 
 we maybe justly sceptical of portents and divine in- 
 timations which pretend to foretell the future career 
 of those who subsequently achieve greatness. We 
 are told, for example, how the child, who had been 
 left one evening in his cradle on the ground floor of 
 the house, was found the next morning in the turret 
 of the roof, facing the rising sun ; how, as soon as he 
 began to speak, he bade the frogs cease their noisy 
 croaking around his grandfather's country villa, and 
 henceforth they croaked no more ; how an eagle 
 once swooped down and snatched from his hand a 
 piece of bread, and then returned and restored the 
 morsel ; how Quintus Catulus dreamed that he had 
 seen Jupiter himself place the Roman Republic in 
 the lap of a boy, whom on the following day he recog- 
 nised to be Octavius. Even Cicero is said to have 
 dreamed that he saw Jupiter put a scourge in Octa- 
 vius' hands; and Julius Caesar was believed to have 
 decided upon adopting him owing to an omen which 
 he observed near the battle-field of Munda. More 
 interesting still is the story of a visit paid by Octa- 
 vius in ApoUonia to the astrologer, Theogenes, in 
 the company of his friend Agrippa. Agrippa was 
 promised a magnificent and almost incredibly pro- 
 sperous career, and, apprehensive lest a less radiant 
 future should be in store for himself, Octavius at 
 first refused to disclose the hour of his birth. His 
 scruples, however, were eventually overcome, and he 
 gave the necessary information, whereupon Theo- 
 genes leaped from his chair and worshipped him. 
 Tales such as these, which, so far as history is aware, 
 
12 AtcgiistMS CcEsar [44 B.C. 
 
 were not made public until after Octavius attained 
 to supreme power, scarcely deserve serious atten- 
 tion ; but they are especially interesting in the case 
 of one, who, throughout his long life, firmly believed 
 that he was the favourite of Heaven. 
 
 Of the boyhood of Octavius little authentic is 
 known. As a lad of twelve he delivered a funeral 
 oration over the body of his grandmother Julia, and 
 at the age of sixteen he assumed the toga of man- 
 hood. Then, shortly afterwards, when Julius Caesar 
 set out for his Spanish campaign against the Pom- 
 peians, Octavius gained some credit for the skill he 
 displayed in making his way through a hostile coun- 
 try to join his uncle, with a few cornpanions who 
 had been shipwrecked with him during the voyage 
 to Spain. That campaign concluded, Csesar busied 
 himself with his preparations for the projected war 
 against the Dacians and the Parthians, and sent his 
 nephew to ApoUonia, in Epirus, there to complete 
 his military studies. It was in Apollonia that he 
 heard the news of Caesar's murder from a messen- 
 ger despatched hotfoot by his mother to carry the 
 dreadful tidings. He had, therefore, to decide im- 
 mediately upon his course of action in circumstances 
 of exceptional difficulty. Many alternatives offered, 
 but all must have seemed almost equally perilous. 
 Removed as he was from the capital, where the 
 state of parties changed from hour to hour and no 
 one knew what the morrow would bring forth, he 
 can have had no trustworthy information to guide 
 him. If even the principal actors in the drama at 
 Rome could not look twenty-four hours ahead, Octa- 
 
THE YOUNG AUGUSTUS. 
 
 FROM THE BUST IN THE VATICAN. 
 
 {Baumeister.) 
 
44 B.C.] Odavius Claims his Heritage 1 3 
 
 vius in Epirus must have been tormented with cruel 
 perplexity. Possibly he did not even know that his 
 uncle had made him his principal heir. Julius, 
 when he drew up his will, was in the prime of life 
 and might still hope for a son ; and, though Octavius 
 was his favourite nephew, there is no ground for 
 believing that he had encouraged the youth to 
 expect the reversion of his political supremacy. 
 Whatever ambitious schemes, therefore, the young 
 student at ApoUonia may have revolved in his mind, 
 he must have heard of Caesar's assassination with 
 feelings of dismay. His mother, Atia, urged him to 
 repair at once to Rome, though, when she wrote, 
 she did not know the contents of Caesar's will. Yet, 
 when he laid this plan before his friends at Apol- 
 lonia, they counselled him not to undertake so 
 hazardous a journey. Marcus Agrippa, a youth of 
 his own age, and Quintus Salvidienus recommended 
 him to present himself to Caesar's legions quartered 
 in Epirus and ask for their protection, and some of 
 the officers of these troops invited him to place him- 
 self at their head. There is little doubt that they 
 would have welcomed him with alacrity, but such a 
 step would have been interpreted as a challenge to 
 civil war and would have placed him in an es- 
 sentially false position. He decided, therefore, to 
 put this dangerous counsel on one side and make 
 his way to Rome. The decision was justified by 
 the result. Octavius had no official status ; he was 
 the recognised head of no party ; he was merely a 
 private citizen and kinsman of the dead Caesar ; and, 
 as we have seen, the intriguers at Rome do not seem 
 
14 Augustus CcBsar [44 B.C. 
 
 to have included the possible ambitions of Octavius 
 in their calculations and never imagined that within 
 a few months he would be a factor in the State with 
 whom they one and all would have to reckon. 
 
 He made no parade of his coming. So anxious 
 was he not to attract attention that, instead of land- 
 ing at Brundisium, he put in at the obscure little 
 port of Lupia, where he learnt that Caesar had made 
 him his principal heir and left him a gigantic for- 
 tune. He learnt, too, of the extraordinary state of 
 afTairs at Rome, of the ascendancy of Antonius, and 
 the radical weakness of the Republican party and 
 their leaders. Octavius was still a boy of eighteen, 
 but though his years were few and his experience 
 limited, he possessed the true instinct of statesman- 
 ship and boldly mapped out for himself the policy 
 which he intended to pursue. As Caesar's heir, he 
 would claim his patrimony in the ordinary legal 
 and constitutional way. And as the very name of 
 Caesar would prove a powerful political weapon to 
 help his ambitions forward, he assumed the title of 
 Caius Julius Caesar Octavianus, and presented him- 
 self as a Caesar to the garrison of Brundisium. Many 
 of his friends, sure that one so inexperienced as he 
 could not combat successfully the perils and difficult- 
 ies before him, prophesied that he would share the 
 fate of Julius. But they little understood the charac- 
 ter of him upon whom they urged their timid coun- 
 sel. Octavian was a born intriguer and saw that there 
 was room even for a late comer in the struggle. 
 
 In the first place, there was no natural head of the 
 constitutional party. The ranks of the Optimates 
 
44 B.C.I Octaviiis Claims his Heritage 1 5 
 
 had been sadly thinned in the late Civil War, and 
 many of its ablest leaders had been slain. The sur- 
 vivors virere jealous of one another, and especially 
 jealous of Cicero. Brutus was only the titular leader 
 of the Httle knot of Senators who had been privy to 
 the conspiracy, and, since the Ides of March, he had 
 given repeated proofs of weakness rather than of 
 strength. There were few staunch, uncompromis- 
 ing Republicans in the Senate, though there were 
 many with definite Republican leanings, who could 
 occasionally be warmed into vigorous applause and a 
 shew of resolute action under the spell of Cicero's 
 eloquence. But the majority of its members were 
 anxious only to join the winning side and seem to 
 have lent their active support to Cicero, to Antonius, 
 and to Dolabella, according as each of these in turn 
 appeared to be upon the crest of the wave. The 
 events of the past month had also proved, beyond 
 doubt, that the murder of Caesar was, on the whole, 
 condemned by public opinion. Those who approved 
 it were lukewarm and timid ; those who denounced it 
 were hot for vengeance and carried swords. It had 
 not excited any spontaneous outburst of enthusiasm 
 in favour of the tyrannicides, for the people of Rome 
 had never regarded JuHus as a tyrant. He had not 
 restricted their liberties, whatever blows he had ad- 
 ministered to the oligarchs, and they were not dis- 
 posed to make the quarrel of the Senate their own. 
 Caesar had won victories ; he had flattered their pride 
 by extending the limits of the Republic ; he had 
 shewn himself a chivalrous and magnanimous victor 
 in his struggle with Pompeius ; he had tolerated no 
 
1 6 Augustus Ccesar [44 B.C. 
 
 proscription ; he had proved himself a generous and 
 bountiful patron. It was not alone the veteran sol- 
 diers of his grand army who lamented his death and 
 cursed his murderers ; and it is to this that must be 
 ascribed the success with which Antonius had con- 
 trived to obtain the dominating position which he 
 held when Octavian returned to Italy. He was Con- 
 sul, it is true, and he had the support of Lepidus ; 
 but it was as the friend of Caesar, the lieutenant of 
 Caesar, and the inheritor of Caesar's policy that he was 
 able to checkmate with such amazing ease the de- 
 signs of the Liberators. Octavian, therefore, might 
 reasonably expect that when he appeared as Julius's 
 heir and adopted son he would attract to himself 
 the support of a large section of the Caesarians, and 
 would start with the good wishes of all who sin- 
 cerely lamented the tragedy of the Ides of March. 
 
 His first act had been to assume the name of Caesar. 
 Yet, while he deliberately chose this title, which the 
 career of Julius had already made almost incompat- 
 ible with the maintenance of a private station, he 
 disavowed all political ambition, and gave out that 
 his sole object was to secure his patrimony. He at 
 once transmitted to the Senate and to Antonius his 
 claim to his inheritance, and, suppressing the zeal of 
 the veterans who flocked to join him, he made his 
 way slowly towards Rome, accompanied only by a 
 small retinue of personal friends. He travelled by 
 a circuitous route, for we find him at Naples on 
 April 1 8th, and he took the opportunity of calling 
 upon Cicero in his neighbouring villa at Puteoli. It 
 was no chance visit that he then paid. Octavian 
 
44 B.C.] Octavius Claims his Heritage 1 7 
 
 was anxious to make friends and to disarm oppos- 
 ition in the ranks of the Optimates. He knew that 
 Antonius would do his best to keep him out of his 
 inheritance ; if, therefore, he could secure the sup- 
 port, or even the neutrality, of Cicero, his position 
 would be the stronger when he reached the capital. 
 The letters written by Cicero to Atticus during 
 the first half of April shew that the veteran states- 
 man was depressed and morbidly anxious at the 
 turn which events had taken. The triumph of 
 Antonius worried him. *' You see," he writes on 
 April nth, ''after all, the tyrant's hangers-on in 
 enjoyment of hnperium ; you see his armies and his 
 veterans on our flank." Or, again, '' The only result 
 of our policy is that we stand in awe of the con- 
 quered party." The Liberators had quitted Rome 
 and left the field to Antonius; Cicero's only consol- 
 ation is the memory of the Ides of March. Again 
 and again that ominous phrase appears in his cor- 
 respondence. The present may be dark and the 
 future desperate, but he turns for satisfaction to the 
 past, and tries to console himself with the thought 
 that he has witnessed the slaying of a tyrant. From 
 Octavian he expects little danger. ''Are the people 
 flocking to see him?" he writes on the nth. "Is 
 there any suspicion that he is meditating a coup ? 
 For my own part, I don't expect it." A week later 
 Balbus, who had visited Octavian, came to tell 
 Cicero the result of the interview, and announced 
 that Octavian intended to accept the inheritance. 
 Cicero foresees from this only that there will be " a 
 fine scrimmage with Antonius." He was then at 
 
1 8 Augustus CcBsar [44 b.c. 
 
 PuteoH, where Balbus, Hirtius, and Pansa were stay- 
 ing with him as his guests. The adjoining villa was 
 owned by Philippus, the step-father of Octavian, and 
 thither the young aspirant betook himself. " He is 
 quite devoted to me," wrote Cicero on the 21st. 
 There had been an interchange of visits, and Octa- 
 vian had been careful to pay to Cicero the deference 
 which Cicero loved. He had asked for counsel and 
 advice; he had taken pains to conciliate his favour, 
 and, when politics were mentioned, had kept a strict 
 guard upon his tongue. Octavian must have known 
 perfectly well how eagerly Cicero applauded the 
 murder of Caesar, and how absolutely he had thrown 
 in his lot with the Liberators. But at such a mo- 
 ment he would keep his ambitions well in the back- 
 ground, and speak only of his desire to obtain his 
 rightful inheritance. Doubtless the young dissem- 
 bler expressed to Cicero his entire acceptance of the 
 amnesty passed by the Senate, and disavowed in the 
 strongest terms any intention of seeking to avenge 
 his uncle's death. We can imagine him solemnly 
 protesting his overwhelming desire for peace and 
 settled government and his readiness to support 
 Cicero in his efforts to restore the reins of power to 
 the Optimates. *' Octavian treats me with great 
 respect and friendliness," says Cicero on the 22d, 
 though he is not wholly convinced of the honesty of 
 his intentions. The assumption of the hated name, 
 Caesar, keeps his suspicions alive. He mistrusts 
 the associates by whom Octavian is surrounded, for 
 they are always threatening ** Our Friends" with 
 death. " How can he be a good citizen," he asks, 
 
44 B.C.] Octavius Claims his Heritage 19 
 
 "with such a name and such a following? The 
 idea is impossible." And then he adds : "■ Octavian 
 says the present state of things is intolerable. But 
 what do you think when a boy like that goes to 
 Rome, where even our Liberators are not safe?" 
 In brief, the result of the meeting between Octavian 
 and Cicero at Puteoli was that Cicero, despite his 
 suspicions, was flattered by the young man's atten- 
 tions, and was encouraged to hope that he might 
 influence him for good. Cicero was thoroughly 
 convinced that Octavian's mission to Rome would 
 be fruitless; that if he measured swords with An- 
 tonius he would inevitably fail ; and that he was far 
 too young and inexperienced to cope with his antag- 
 onists. He was, on the whole, well disposed towards 
 him, and wished him no harm, but he made the fatal 
 blunder of treating him, and thinking of him, as a 
 boy. '' Fancy," said he, " that boy going to Rome 
 to match himself against grown men ! " 
 
 Antonius began by making precisely the same 
 blunder and scorned the notion that he had any- 
 thing to fear. He was absent from Rome when 
 Octavian turned his steps in the direction of the 
 capital and leisurely proceeded north. Yet even 
 while he was in the neighbourhood of Naples Octa- 
 vian had given striking proof of his boldness and 
 resolution. He had pledged himself to defray the 
 cost of the shows at the festival of the Parilia on 
 April 2 1st, a festival in which Julius had always 
 taken the keenest interest. This was his first step 
 to conciliate the favour of the Roman citizens, and 
 they admired equally the boldness of the giver and 
 
20 Augustus CcEsar [44 B.C. 
 
 the magnificence of his entertainment. So when, 
 after a few days' halt at Tarracina, Octavian entered 
 the capital, he found the populace prepared to give 
 him a warm welcome. He had awakened their curi- 
 osity. All classes were eager to see and note the 
 bearing of Caesar's heir. And it was remarked that 
 on the day of his entry there was a peculiarly ra- 
 diant effulgence around the sun, from which men 
 drew auguries favourable to the prospects of him 
 who came as a private citizen, claiming a private 
 citizen's rights. But there was a general feeling that 
 the heir to Csesar's fortune would soon appear as a 
 claimant for political power. His mother, Atia, and 
 his step-father, Philippus, did what they could to per- 
 suade him to drop the name of Caesar, but his unhesi- 
 tating answer was that the Dictator had thought him 
 worthy to bear it, and that to shrink from accept- 
 ing so glorious a name would be a confession of 
 unworthiness. Consequently, he lost no time in ap- 
 pearing before the City Praetor, Caius Antonius, and 
 formally declared his intention of taking up his in- 
 heritance, as Caesar's first heir. It was also neces- 
 sary for him to obtain the sanction of the people to 
 his adoption by means of a lex curiata^ and to this 
 end he pleaded his cause in a speech wherein he 
 eulogised his benefactor to the skies and took care 
 to promise that he would pay the legacies which 
 Caesar had left to every citizen. The speech was 
 well received by the people, so well, indeed, that it 
 brought the Consul Antonius back to Rome in haste 
 with the intention of silencing the new and danger- 
 ous rival who had appeared in his absence. A stormy 
 
44 B.C.] Octavius Claims his Heritage 2 1 
 
 interview took place in the Consul's house. Octa- 
 vian demanded his inheritance ; Antonius replied 
 that Caesar's money was not private but public 
 treasure, and had been spent by him in the service of 
 the State. He took credit to himself for having se- 
 cured the ratification of Caesar's acts, warned Octavian 
 that he was courting danger, and sought to divert 
 him from the policy which he seemed determined to 
 adopt. But Octavian was not to be browbeaten out 
 of his rights, and when he left the presence of the 
 Consul his next step was to realise all the private 
 estate of Caesar, borrow money from his friends and 
 relatives, and raise a sum sufficient to pay the lega- 
 cies which Caesar had bequeathed to the people. 
 Not content with this, he provided the shows in 
 honour of Caesar, as founder of the Temple of 
 Venus the Ancestress, which Julius had built in ful- 
 filment of a vow made on the morning of the battle 
 of Pharsalus. 
 
 Thus Octavian had not been a month in Rome 
 before he had made a bold bid for popularity 
 and had succeeded in attracting to himself the 
 sympathies of the crowd. Profiting alike by the 
 absence of the Republican chiefs and by the unpop- 
 ularity of Antonius, he boldly demanded that the 
 golden throne and crown, which the Senate had de- 
 creed to Caesar, should be exhibited at the festival. 
 This was vetoed by the tribunes in the service of 
 Antonius, but the absence of these glittering tokens 
 of power was more than compensated by the appear- 
 ance in the heavens of a comet of unusual splendour, 
 which Octavian and his friends immediately hailed 
 
2 2 Augustus CcBSar [44 B.C. 
 
 as proof that Caesar was now admitted to the com- 
 pany of the gods. He ventured, therefore, to erect 
 a statue to the new divinity in the Temple of Venus, 
 the head being surmounted by a golden star, and in 
 the midst of fhe excitement caused by this evident 
 sign from heaven, the Senate was prevailed upon to 
 decree that henceforward the name of the month 
 Quintilis, which stood fifth in the Roman calendar, 
 should be changed to that of Julius. If this was a 
 triumph for the dead Dictator, whose statues, not a 
 month before, had been thrown down by Dolabella, 
 it was an even greater triumph for Octavian, the 
 Dictator's heir, who now clearly stood forward as an 
 aspirant for power. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE GATHERING STORM 
 July to October, 44 B.C. 
 
 BY sparing Antonius when they slew Caesar, the 
 Liberators had foredoomed their schemes to 
 ruin. The Consul outplayed them in the game 
 of intrigue and, in spite of the act of amnesty 
 and the confirmation of their prospective appoint- 
 ments, their plight grew daily more precarious. 
 They began to realise that they were marked men, 
 and that if the Csesarian party triumphed, their de- 
 struction was certain. Speedily, therefore, their timid 
 sympathisers in the Senate began to hold more and 
 more aloof, for no one knew what desperate stroke 
 Antonius might be meditating. Most of the leading 
 Republicans, judging that they could breathe more 
 easily in the country than in Rome, betook them- 
 selves to their villas and waited for a sign, thus aban- 
 doning the capital to Antonius and his adherents. 
 This was an unmistakable proof of weakness, which 
 could not be rectified even by the frenzied efforts of 
 Cicero to rally all those who remained true to the 
 old Constitution. The Liberators, left alone in 
 
 23 
 
24 Attgushis Ccesar [44 B.C. 
 
 Rome, speedily found their position untenable. As 
 praetors, Brutus and Cassius were legally bound to 
 remain within the walls, but they, too, retired to- 
 wards the end of April to Lanuvium. Decimus 
 Brutus hurried away to his province of Cisalpine 
 Gaul, Trebonius to Asia, and Cimber to Bithynia. 
 But it is clear that they had no settled plan of con- 
 certed action and merely drifted with the times, 
 looking helplessly to one another to initiate a 
 policy. 
 
 That they were thoroughly despondent is evident 
 from the letters which Cicero wrote during these 
 troubled weeks, while he passed restlessly from villa 
 to villa in the south of Italy. He could not disguise 
 from himself the truth that things were going very 
 badly for the cause, and that Antonius held all the 
 winning cards. And supposing there was war, what 
 was he to do ? He had already compromised him- 
 self by his approbation of the Ides of March ; he 
 would be bound to take a side and join either Sex- 
 tus Pompeius or Brutus. It would not be as it was 
 in Caesar's day, when one might remain neutral, sure 
 of magnanimity from the conqueror ; this time there 
 must be a formidable massacre of the losing party. 
 Then, as he heard of the skilful use which Antonius 
 was making of Caesar's papers, the unpalatable truth 
 was borne in upon him that, after all, Caesar's assas- 
 sination had done the Republic no good. '' The 
 Republic," he writes to Cassius, " has avenged its in- 
 juries by the death of the tyrant — nothing more. 
 Which of its dignities has it recovered ? We are act- 
 ually endorsing the rough notes of the man whose 
 
44 B.C.] The Gathering Storm 25 
 
 laws we ought to have torn down from the walls 
 where they are inscribed." 
 
 Cicero, in fact, was living from day to day in nerv- 
 ous apprehension, tortured by his increasing convic- 
 tion of the futility of Caesar's murder. Dependent 
 for his information on letters from Atticus and his 
 other correspondents in Rome, it was impossible 
 for him to gauge the situation correctly. There is 
 something pathetic in the eager way he snatches at 
 the passing straws of hope. Dolabella's repression 
 of a slight Caesarian tumult at Rome throws him into 
 transports of joy. He had been thinking of quitting 
 Italy and going to Greece — anywhere to be out of 
 the way. Immediately he cheers up and declares 
 that he cannot dream of leaving at such a moment. 
 He almost forgives Dolabella for not paying him 
 back the dowry of TuUia ; he hails him as the leader 
 for whom they have been looking in vain. Then news 
 comes from Rome that Dolabella has been bought by 
 Antonius, and Cicero is once again in despair. " I 
 think about Greece more and more." "The Ides of 
 March do not afford me the consolation they did." 
 '* There was courage in the arms which slew Caesar, 
 but the statesmanship was that of a child." And on 
 May I ith, when he hears how Antonius is gathering 
 the veterans around him, he gives way to a gloomy 
 foreboding that war is inevitable. ''Old age makes 
 my temper sourer than it was. I am disgusted with 
 everything. But then my active life is over. Let 
 the younger men solve the problem." That is the 
 cry of a disappointed man in a moment of petulance 
 and utter weariness of mind and body. Yet the 
 
26 Augustus CcBsar " [44 B.C. 
 
 next day he is at work again, doing his utmost to 
 rally his friends round the Republic. Cicero's loyalty 
 to Brutus at this time was perhaps more creditable 
 to his heart than to his judgment. He had per- 
 suaded himself that the fate of the Republic depend- 
 ed upon the Chief of the Liberators. The shrewd 
 Atticus had challenged this view ; Cicero repeated it 
 in emphatic language : — '' Either the Republic will 
 fall or else it will be saved by Brutus and his friends." 
 And throughout these weeks he was for ever striv- 
 ing to strengthen the weak-kneed, to infuse into 
 them new courage and energy, and to confirm the 
 loyalty of the doubtful. 
 
 To confirm the doubtful — that was the difficulty. 
 These formed an overwhelming majority of the 
 Senate. Again, there were Caesar's friends to be 
 taken into consideration, men of the stamp of the 
 Consuls-designate, Hirtius and Pansa. They had 
 been loyal adherents of Caesar while Caesar lived. 
 They owed their promotion to him ; they had fought 
 in his campaigns ; he had promised them the consul- 
 ship for the ensuing year. It was obviously of vital 
 importance to the Republican cause that they should 
 be won over to some reasonable compromise. What, 
 then, were their views upon the extraordinary situ- 
 ation in which they found themselves? Cicero sup- 
 plies the answer. They roundly condemned the 
 Ides of March; they would negotiate with Cicero, 
 but they would have nothing to do with the Liber- 
 ators. They believed that Caesar's acts would be 
 nullified and abrogated if the Liberators proved 
 triumphant, and that Caesar's friends would be pro- 
 
44 B.C.] T^he Gathering Storm 27 
 
 scribed. For that reason they welcomed Octavian 
 on his arrival in Italy. Yet, while they distrusted 
 Brutus and Cassius, they equally distrusted Anton- 
 ius, whose domination threatened their peaceful 
 succession to the consulship. Hence they were per- 
 fectly prepared to be friendly with Cicero, and lend 
 an ear to his schemes, but were careful not to pledge 
 themselves too deeply. Caesarians at heart, they 
 were willing to accept any compromise whereby they 
 might enter quietly upon their ofilice at the begin- 
 ning of the new year. 
 
 Antonius had summoned a meeting of the Senate 
 for the first of June, and had flooded Rome with 
 soldiers to overawe opposition. Cicero had long 
 debated whether he should attend and had finally 
 decided that it would not be safe for him to put in 
 an appearance. Brutus and Cassius dared not leave 
 their retreat. Antonius, therefore, found little active 
 opposition when he laid before the Senate his high- 
 handed proposition to abrogate in part the allotment 
 of provinces which had been ratified at the earlier 
 meeting of March 17th. On that occasion Marcus 
 Brutus had been confirmed in his appointment to 
 Macedonia and Cassius in his appointment to Syria. 
 Now the Consul proposed that Macedonia should be 
 given to himself and Syria be transferred to his 
 colleague, Dolabella. There was no shadow of just- 
 ification for this outrage upon constitutional pro- 
 cedure, and Antonius hardly deigned to offer reasons 
 or excuses for the demand. His motives, indeed, 
 were too transparent to be disguised. Now secure 
 of the co-operation of the treacherous Dolabella, his 
 
28 Atcgushcs CcEsar L44 B.C. 
 
 aim was to gain control of the legions assembled in 
 the East for the Thracian and Parthian wars. Then, 
 a few days later, after this coup de main had been 
 triumphantly carried through the Senate, he induced 
 that body to pass another decree assigning to Brutus 
 and Cassius the duty of providing the capital with 
 grain, a sort of roving Commissionership with cer- 
 tain military powers in the Mediterranean littoral. 
 They had to decide whether they would pocket their 
 pride and tamely submit to so gross an insult. Cicero 
 put the case very neatly in one of his letters to Atti- 
 cus. If they accepted the Commissionership as an act 
 of favour from Antonius, they would sacrifice their 
 principles. To attempt a counterstroke was impos- 
 sible ; they had neither the courage nor the means to 
 carry it through. And yet if they quietly acquiesced 
 in the domination of the Consul, who could guar- 
 antee their lives? That was the situation in a nut- 
 shell. Antonius had cleverly thrust them into a 
 corner, and Cicero, quick to see that a false move 
 would be fatal, hurried up to Antium to discuss 
 what had best be done. 
 
 He gives us a graphic picture of the meeting, 
 which throws a flood of light upon the character of 
 the Liberators and the hopelessness of their position. 
 It was a family council, in which the ladies of the 
 house shared and took a prominent part. Ser- 
 vilia was there, the resolute mother of the vacillat- 
 ing Brutus ; Portia, wife of Brutus and Cato's 
 daughter, and Tertia, the half-sister of Brutus and 
 wife of Caius Cassius, were also present. What was 
 to be done? Cicero had gone to Antium with his 
 
44 B.C.] The Gat her mg Storm 29 
 
 mind made up. It was not safe for Brutus to go to 
 Rome ; he had no alternative, therefore, but to ac- 
 cept the Commissionership. The advice was good 
 and the Liberators knew it, but it was none the less 
 unpalatable. Cassius, in a towering fury, with his 
 eyes darting fire, vowed that he would never go to 
 Sicily. ''Then where will you go?" asks Cicero. 
 *' To Achaia," was the answer. ''And Brutus?" 
 " To Rome, if Cicero advised it." " Quite impos- 
 sible," said Cicero ; " your life would not be worth a 
 day's purchase." Mutual recriminations followed. 
 They stormed at Decimus Brutus for wasting his 
 time in chasing robbers in Cisalpine Gaul instead of 
 making a stand against Antonius. They reproached 
 one another for the opportunities which they had 
 let slip, for their timorous action after the Ides of 
 March, for the empty truce they had patched up with 
 the Consul. They saw that they had missed every 
 opening and fumbled every chance. Cicero tried to 
 quell the tempest. " The past was past ; let bygones 
 be bygones." In the end he drew from them their 
 reluctant consent to accept the Commissionerships. 
 But he quitted Antium with a heavy heart. He 
 was leaving the nerveless leaders of a broken party, 
 and he despaired of the future. " I found the party 
 like a ship with her timbers starting ; nay, fast going 
 to pieces. They have no plans, no judgment, no 
 system." Brutus and Cassius formally took over 
 their new duties ; Cicero himself sought and ob- 
 tained a legatio from Dolabella — now the tool of 
 Antonius — which enabled him to leave Italy at any 
 moment. The fortunes of the Republicans had 
 
30 Augushis Ccesar [44 B.C. 
 
 touched their lowest ebb. Their principal anxiety 
 during the next three months was not so much 
 to get back the power they had lost, as to secure 
 their own personal safety. Antonius had uttered 
 the dark menace: "Only the man on the win- 
 ning side has a chance of seeing length of days." 
 Cicero heard it, turned his eyes towards Greece, and 
 tried to forget the cares of politics in composing his 
 philosophical treatises on Old Age, Friendship, 
 Glory, and Fate. He shrank from the turmoil which 
 was brewing. Still loyal to Brutus, he saw only too 
 well how unfit Brutus was to lead a party. " I send 
 you Brutus's letter," he writes to Atticus on July 6th, 
 **but, good God! did you ever see such feckless- 
 ness?" A week later the Ludi ApolUnares were 
 celebrated in Rome. It was the duty of Brutus, as 
 City Praetor, to provide the shows. But he had long 
 been absent from the capital and dared not return 
 now. Consequently , while he paid for the enter- 
 tainment, his colleague, Caius Antonius, brother of 
 his arch-enemy, the Consul, presided. The people 
 had their amusement and they applauded their 
 lavish benefactor. But, for all practical purposes, 
 the money was thrown away. The plaudits which 
 greeted the name of Brutus were barren of polit- 
 ical result ; and Cicero let fall the bitter sarcasm that 
 the hands of the Roman people suffered more wear 
 and tear from clapping in the theatre than from 
 bearing arms in the defence of the Republic. The 
 games were soon forgotten ; the new name of Julius 
 for the month Quintilis remained. Do what they 
 would, the Republicans could not rid themselves of 
 
Taf. X. 
 
 CiCERO. 
 FROM A BUST NOW IN THE ROYAL GALLERY IN MADRID- 
 
44 B.C.] The Gathering Storm 31 
 
 the shadow of the man they had slain. So they de- 
 cided to leave Italy with a number of ships which 
 they had chartered ostensibly as transports for 
 grain. Antonius accused them of holding levies, 
 exacting contributions, and tampering with the le- 
 gions over-sea. To this they replied in a joint letter 
 from Naples on August 2nd, complaining that it was 
 intolerable that they should not be allowed to waive 
 their rights as praetors without a Consul threaten- 
 ing them with arms. " We want you to occupy a 
 great and honourable position in a free Republic," 
 they said, " and we challenge you to no open 
 quarrel. Yet we value our liberty at a greater price 
 than your friendship. Be careful, therefore, that 
 you do not aspire to a role which you cannot sus- 
 tain, and bethink yourself not how long Caesar 
 lived, but how short a time he reigned." Such was 
 the manifesto with which the two praetors replied 
 to the fierce attack made upon them by the Consul 
 on August 1st, at the meeting of the Senate, when 
 their friends had urged the House to pass a decree 
 enabling them to retain their position as praetors 
 while acting as Commissioners for the grain-supply. 
 Cicero, meanwhile, had embarked, in the middle 
 of July, and sailed slowly down to Syracuse, with 
 the full intention of leaving Italy and remaining 
 away for the rest of the year. One hope alone re- 
 mained to him. Antonius' consulship expired on 
 December 31st. He would then have to make way 
 for Hirtius and Pansa or there must be war ; and 
 Cicero, while by no means quite easy in his mind as 
 to the intentions of the Consuls-elect, felt that at 
 
32 Augustus CcEsar [44 b.c, 
 
 least there was a reasonable chance of a brighter 
 era dawning when they entered upon their office. 
 He resolved to visit Greece. But the fates willed it 
 otherwise. Twice he set sail from Leucopetra ; 
 twice an adverse wind blew his vessel back to port ; 
 and on the second occasion news reached him 
 which determined him to abandon his plans and go 
 straight to Rome. He heard of the manifesto of 
 Brutus and Cassius and of the summoning of the 
 Senate, and received a circular letter which the two 
 Liberators had sent round to their friends, begging 
 them to take their places in the Senate House. 
 ^'They were in good hope" — so ran the docu- 
 ment — "that Antonius would give way, and that 
 an accommodation might be arrived at between the 
 two parties." Consequently, Cicero plucked up heart 
 once more and hastened north. At Velia he fell in 
 with Brutus, who welcomed him with open arms, 
 abandoned his usual gloomy reserve, and poured 
 into his ear all the secrets which hitherto he had 
 kept locked in his own breast. Cicero reproached 
 himself for having so much as thought of flight ; he 
 thanked the south wind which had saved him from 
 the scandal of abandoning his friends ; and, with the 
 encouraging words and plaudits of his titular leader 
 ringing in his ears, he entered Rome on August 
 31st. His great duel with Antonius was about to 
 begin ; he was to make his last great effort to save 
 the Republic, to succeed for a time almost beyond 
 reasonable expectation, and then to die the death of 
 a martyr for his political principles. 
 
 What, then, was the political situation which Cicero 
 
44 B.C.] The Gathering Storm 33 
 
 found on his return? As far back as June 1st Anto- 
 nius had secured for himself the province of Mace- 
 donia and for Dolabella the province of Syria. But 
 that was merely the first step toward the realisation 
 of the more ambitious schemes which he gradually 
 disclosed. Antonius, who had been trained in the 
 school of Julius, saw that victory could only be ob- 
 tained by the help of the legions, and that he who 
 commanded the most swords must eventually win. 
 There were six legions stationed without a general 
 on the Ionian coast, waiting to be led against the Par- 
 thians. Naturally, they expected to be transported 
 to Syria, the base of all expeditions against Parthia, 
 and Cassius had hoped for the command. When 
 Cassius's province had been given to Dolabella, the 
 legions looked to the latter as their probable leader, 
 but Antonius persuaded his colleague to be content 
 with one, while the remainder were transferred to him- 
 self. The Consul induced the Senate to abandon the 
 projected Parthian campaign, and gave orders that the 
 legions should remain in their present quarters, and 
 then, turning from the Senate to the people, he 
 obtained permission for the transfer of Macedonia 
 from himself to his brother Caius, while he boldly 
 claimed for himself the Gallic provinces, and urged 
 that Cisalpine Gaul should be incorporated with the 
 Italian peninsula and placed under the control of the 
 central executive. The latter portion of his scheme 
 failed ; the rest succeeded. Decimus Brutus was 
 bidden to make way for Antonius in Cisalpine Gaul, 
 and instructions were given for the Macedonian 
 legions to embark for Italy. They did not, it is 
 
34 Augustus CcBsar [44 B.C. 
 
 true, begin to arrive until the beginning of October, 
 but the knowledge that they were preparing to start 
 was undoubtedly the principal factor in the political 
 situation. 
 
 It is difficult to follow with exactitude the re- 
 lations between Antonius and Octavian during this 
 eventful summer, but their general outlines are tol- 
 erably clear. We have already seen how, when Oc- 
 tavian returned to Rome to claim his patrimony, the 
 Consul thwarted him at every turn. He had hin- 
 dered the passing of the curiate law necessary for his 
 formal adoption ; he had threatened him with vio- 
 lence when he erected a brazen statue to Caesar ; he 
 had prevented the people from electing him a 
 tribunus suffectus. It had been Octavian 's policy 
 to ingratiate himself with the Senate, and especially 
 with the leading members of the old noble families, 
 and, without relinquishing the name of Caesar, to 
 affect adherence to the Constitutionalist party and 
 its principles. He was apparently regarded as an 
 unknown quantity, as one who might at any mo- 
 ment become important and even dangerous. Thus 
 we find Cicero, on June loth, writing: 
 
 *' As for Octavian, I have come to the conclusion that 
 he has plenty of ability and courage and that his senti- 
 ments towards our heroes, the Liberators, are all that we 
 could desire. But we must carefully consider how far we 
 can trust one so young, bearing the name he does, coming 
 from such a stock, and with such a bringing up. Never- 
 theless, he is a man to be nursed, and, above all, it is of 
 supreme importance to detach him from Antonius. His 
 disposition is good, if only it will bear the strain." 
 
44 B.C.] The Gathering Storm 35 
 
 There is reason to think that Antonius was quicker 
 than Cicero to see of what the youthful Octavian 
 was actually, and not merely potentially, capable, 
 and therefore, when in July and August he was 
 feeling his way towards his great coup, — that of oust- 
 ing Decimus from his province and bringing back 
 the legions to Italy,— Antonius found it politic to 
 effect a rapprochement with him and disarm his act- 
 ive opposition. Whenever Antonius felt apprehens- 
 ive of a strong Republican reaction — and there were 
 moments when that seemed just within the bounds 
 of probability — he made overtures to Octavian. 
 Strong as Antonius was, he felt compelled to con- 
 ciliate, on occasion, the rival whom he had already 
 begun to fear. But there was no lasting under- 
 standing between them, and the breach was again 
 beginning to widen. 
 
 Cicero had hurried up to Rome with unusual 
 haste to be in time for the meeting of September ist, 
 but he did not take his place in the Curia, pleading 
 the fatigue of his journey as an excuse for non- 
 attendance. The real reason lay elsewhere. He had 
 been warned that Antonius was furious at his coming, 
 and had prepared a savage attack upon him. The 
 Consul taunted him with being afraid to meet him 
 face to face and then quitted the city for his Tibur- 
 tine villa, leaving his colleague, Dolabella, to preside 
 over the adjourned meeting on the following day, at 
 which Cicero delivered the first of that matchless 
 series of fourteen orations which, while they cost him 
 his life, have gained him deathless glory. The First 
 Philippic was a consummate piece of political rhetoric. 
 
36 Augustus Ccesar [44 B.C. 
 
 Cicero did not pick up the gauntlet which Antonius 
 had thrown down. He rather implored his enemy 
 not to take the irretrievable step. He praised 
 Antonius for his behaviour up to the first of June, 
 and sharply contrasted it with his subsequent con- 
 duct. Since that date, he exclaimed, the whole 
 scene had changed. " Nihil per senatum; multa et 
 magna per populum^ et absente populo et invito^ In 
 short, he accused Antonius of having ignored the 
 Senate, of having carried his high-handed measures 
 through the people, and even, when it suited his 
 purpose, of having usurped absolute power without 
 the slightest semblance of constitutional procedure. 
 It was not a candid speech. It was rather a clever 
 party move, intended, if possible, to isolate Antonius, 
 and rally the Moderates against him. What Cicero 
 really thought of Antonius* conduct between the 
 Ides of March and June ist was very different from 
 the flattering praise which it now suited his pur- 
 pose to bestow upon it. But he wished to gain 
 public opinion over to his side by making a last 
 appeal to the Consul to return to a constitutional 
 position. However, it merely served to rouse An- 
 tonius to a deeper hatred. He knew the power 
 of Cicero's eloquence, and the electrifying effect 
 it had upon the Roman Senate. The chilly, ego- 
 tistical, self-satisfied Brutus was an enemy who 
 might safely be ignored ; Cicero's presence in Rome 
 was a constant scource of danger to his plans. An- 
 tonius, therefore, formally renounced his friend- 
 ship with Cicero, and prepared another onslaught, 
 which he delivered on the nineteenth of September. 
 
44 B.C.] The Gathering Storm 37 
 
 Again Cicero was absent. He shrank from facing 
 the Consul when surrounded by his body-guard, 
 and prudently remained at home. The fierce tirade 
 of the Consul thoroughly cowed the Senate. They 
 had applauded Cicero ; Antonius's reply was to 
 parade his swordsmen through the streets of Rome. 
 The capital became an armed camp. The Consul 
 boldly erected a statue of Caesar on the Rostra and 
 dedicated it " Parenti Optinie Meritor Until the 
 end of the month Cicero kept within doors and 
 then sought the seclusion of his villa at Puteoli, 
 where he elaborated that amazing torrent of in- 
 vective, the Second Philippic. But it was never 
 spoken, and was not even published until two 
 months later, when the sword had already been 
 drawn. Antonius for three weeks terrorised Rome 
 and ruled alone. On October 2nd he threw aside 
 the mask and declaimed against Cicero and the 
 Liberators as traitors and assassins. On October 
 5th he declared that he had discovered a plot of 
 Octavian against his life. On October 9th he left 
 Rome for Brundisium to take command of the 
 legions which had been brought across the Adriatic. 
 Although, as yet, no war was proclaimed, war had 
 in truth begun. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 OCTAVIAN AND THE SENATE 
 October, 44 to March, 43 B.C. 
 
 OCTAVIAN now stepped boldly forward with a 
 determined, though still a dissembling, front. 
 Whether he had actually engaged in a plot 
 against the Consul's life early in October and hired 
 assassins to slay his rival cannot be satisfactorily as- 
 certained. Even at the moment the charge was not 
 generally believed, for the shrewdest observers saw 
 that it was not to Octavian's advantage that Anton- 
 ius should be got out of the way at present, inas- 
 much as his removal would have cleared the path 
 for the Republicans and ruined Octavian's ulterior de- 
 signs. But the withdrawal of Antonius to Brundi- 
 sium to place himself at the head of the legions was 
 a step which bore only one interpretation. Ev- 
 ery one in Rome knew that the Consul intended to 
 return with a powerful army at his back, which 
 would enable him to dictate what terms he chose. 
 Octavian, therefore, betook himself to Campania, 
 where he set about collecting an army from the vet- 
 erans of Caesar. He met with astonishing success. 
 
 38 
 
44 B.C.] Oct avian and the Senate 39 
 
 As he passed through the miHtary colonies he issued 
 a summons to arms which was responded to with 
 alacrity. The old soldiers came trooping round 
 him, animated by a fierce desire to avenge the Ides 
 of March, and attracted to the young heir at once 
 by the name he bore, by his ingratiating manners, 
 and by the liberal donative of two thousand sesterces 
 which he promised to all who joined his standard. 
 Tired of the humdrum life of the country and the 
 monotonous labour of their farms, they looked for- 
 ward again to the prospect of loot. Within a month 
 Octavian had assembled a motley force of ten thou- 
 sand men and marched towards Rome, arriving before 
 the gates by the middle of November. The troops 
 remained outside the walls, while their leader passed 
 within and, entering the Forum, harangued the people 
 against the Consul, and offered himself as the de- 
 fender of the Commonwealth. 
 
 The scene is described by Appian in a curious 
 chapter which darkens rather than enlightens our 
 understanding of what actually took place. For, ac- 
 cording to his account, the veterans were dismayed 
 to hear that they were to be asked to draw their 
 swords against Antonius, and insisted upon the two 
 Caesarian leaders' becoming reconciled. We are told 
 that the majority of them refused for a time to obey 
 Octavian's orders and were only won over to his de- 
 signs by a liberal largesse. It would seem, indeed, 
 if Appian 's narrative is to be trusted, that Octavian 
 had promised to lead them, not against Antonius 
 but against the Liberators, and that they believed 
 that he and the Consul were acting in concert. 
 
40 Atcgustus CcBsar l44 B.C. 
 
 Consequently, people began to suspect that Octav- 
 ian's denunciations of the Consul were a mere blind, 
 and that it was settled between them that Antonius 
 should have supreme power, while Octavian should 
 be free to avenge the murder of his uncle and punish 
 the enemies of his house. The chapter is important 
 for two reasons. It emphasises the extraordinary- 
 uncertainty which prevailed as to the motives actu- 
 ating the protagonists of the drama, and it also 
 serves to show the popularity of Antonius with 
 Caesar's old troops. Be that as it may, Octavian 
 marched his soldiers north, visiting Ravenna and the 
 neighbouring towns, and fixed his headquarters at 
 Arretium, where his officers enrolled fresh recruits 
 and applied themselves to the task of training, equip- 
 ping, and organising their men into legions, ready 
 to take the field. 
 
 Antonius was acting with no less resolution than 
 his rival. He left Rome, as we have seen, on Octo- 
 ber 9th, and proceeded at once to Brundisium where 
 the four legions just transferred from Macedonia 
 were now encamped. They did not give him the 
 welcome he had expected, but sullenly called upon 
 him to explain why he had failed to punish the mur- 
 derers of Caesar. Antonius, who never lacked cour- 
 age in the moment of danger, replied that they 
 ought to thank him for securing their return to 
 Italy and sparing them the dangers and hardships 
 of a Parthian campaign, declaimed against the rash, 
 headstrong lad whose emissaries had tampered with 
 their allegiance, and promised them a donative if 
 they were loyal and well conducted. Then, finding 
 
44 B.C.] Odavian and the Senate 41 
 
 that they still shewed traces of a mutinous temper, he 
 called for the muster-rolls and put to death some of 
 the more insubordinate. Shortly afterwards he broke 
 up the camp, directed the officers to lead their men 
 north in detachments along the coast road and con- 
 centrate at Ariminum, while he himself hurriedly re- 
 turned to Rome. His presence there was urgently 
 required. The capital had been thrown into confu- 
 sion by the sudden appearance of the army of Oc- 
 tavian, now drawn off to the borders of Cisalpine 
 Gaul, and by Octavian's offer to become the cham- 
 pion of the State. Antonius did not scruple to en- 
 ter the city with an armed force and take military 
 possession. He summoned a meeting of the Senate 
 for November 28th and was on his way to the Curia 
 when a messenger brought him word that the Martian 
 Legion had gone over to Octavian. Before he had 
 recovered from the shock another courier came run- 
 ning up to inform him that the Fourth Legion had 
 also deserted him. It was a bitter and damaging 
 blow, but the Consul, immediately the meeting was 
 concluded, took horse and rode to Alba in the hope 
 that he might even yet recall the mutineers to their 
 allegiance. They, however, had shut the gates, and 
 received him on his approach with a shower of ar- 
 rows. Baffled in this, the Consul increased his pro- 
 mised donative to two thousand sesterces — thereby 
 equalling the offer of Octavian — and succeeded in 
 keeping the remaining two Macedonian legions true 
 to their colours. Then, feeling that the crisis had at 
 last come and could no longer be postponed, An- 
 tonius proclaimed his intention of taking up the 
 
42 Augustus CcBsar [44 B.C. 
 
 command of Cisalpine Gaul,which had been conferred 
 upon him by the people, and called upon Decimus 
 Brutus to withdraw. When the Republican chief 
 scornfully refused and denied his title, Antonius 
 raised his standard at Tibur. 
 
 Rome was thus freed from the presence, though 
 not from the menace, of the armies of Antonius and 
 Octavian, and it was now open to Cicero to return 
 and take his place in the Senate. For two months 
 he had been wandering from villa to villa, busily 
 engaged upon the Second Philippic, polishing and 
 repolishing its eloquent periods, and giving the razor 
 edge to its terrible invective. To this and to philo- 
 sophy he devoted most of his time, though his letter- 
 carriers and those of Atticus repassed one another 
 constantly on the road between Puteoli and Rome. 
 His ears were always listening anxiously for the lat- 
 est news from the capital ; his hopes were always 
 ready to rise at the slightest ebb in the tide of An- 
 tonius's power. "■ Anything to crush the Consul ! " 
 was his constant prayer, that raving madman who was 
 striving to strangle the Republic, and would not tol- 
 erate even the bearing of a free man, to say nothing 
 of free speech. *'The Republic looks like getting 
 its own again," he wrote on October 26th, but in the 
 next sentence, taught by the disappointments of 
 the last six months, he cautiously added, "yet we 
 must not shout till we are out of the wood." Cicero 
 had at length come to see how thick the wood was 
 and how difficult of egress. There was, indeed, but a 
 single way out, and that was full of perils. It was to 
 accept the overtures of Octavian. 
 
44 B.C.I Octavian and the Senate 43 
 
 Octavian had already offered himself in the Rom- 
 an Forum as the champion of the Republic against 
 Antonius. He now strove with all his power to win 
 over Cicero. When he was making his tour through 
 Campania to raise the veterans he constantly wrote 
 to Cicero asking for advice and counsel. He de- 
 sired a private interview at Capua. He wished to 
 know whether he had better intercept Antonius's ad- 
 vance from Brundisium by holding Capua, or return 
 directly to Rome. He repeatedly urged Cicero to 
 go back and take his place in the Senate, and in 
 every letter he pledged his word to act through the 
 Senate in accordance with constitutional practice. 
 Cicero was torn with conflicting doubts and hopes. 
 He welcomed without reservation the growth of a 
 new power which might counterbalance that of An- 
 tonius. He was favourably disposed to Octavian and 
 delighted with his promise to act through the Sen- 
 ate on the lines which Cicero himself had laid down. 
 But could he place any rehance on the word of a 
 Caesar? Ought he, who was the embodiment of 
 caution, to accept the offer of an impetuous youth? 
 " He is insistent ; I still have my doubts." Why, he 
 asks sorrowfully, is not Brutus here, now that there 
 is a chance of rallying the good citizens ? " Oh ! 
 Brutus, where are you ? What a chance in a milHon 
 you are losing ! I thought something of the sort 
 would happen, but never guessed it would be as 
 it is." 
 
 Early in November he is still hesitating. He is 
 equally impressed and delighted by the astonishing 
 enthusiasm which the Italian municipalities have 
 
44 Augustus CcBsar [44 B.C. 
 
 displayed towards ''the boy." He admires the vig- 
 our with which he is acting and the boldness with 
 which he meets difficulties. Yet he is still certain 
 that Antonius is the stronger of the two, and cannot 
 help feeling that Octavian is, after all, a mere lad. 
 '''Est plane piier,'' he writes, with a touch of con- 
 temptuous scorn, when Octavian suggests that he 
 may be able to get the Senators to come together 
 and resist Antonius to his face. Cicero pooh-poohs 
 the idea as absurd, for experience had taught him 
 that the Senate was a sorry staff to lean upon in a 
 moment of danger. So a few days later he again 
 takes up the theme. " The youth has plenty of 
 spirit, but he lacks authority. There is no weight be- 
 hind him." The shrewd Atticus, too, was pointing 
 out the danger of trusting too implicitly in the pro^ 
 fessions of Octavian. " If," he said, " the lad gets 
 much power, then the acta of the tyrant will be con- 
 firmed much more decisively than they were in the 
 Temple of Tellus {i. e,, at the meeting of the Senate 
 on March 17th), and that will be a direct blow to 
 Brutus. On the other hand, if he is beaten, Anto- 
 nius will become intolerable." Cicero, therefore, 
 was on the horns of a dilemma. Octavian had given 
 Antonius some fine thumping blows {belle iste puer 
 retundit Antonium), y&t, on the other hand, in his 
 harangues to the people he had made constant ap- 
 peals to Caesar, and Cicero was not inclined to accept 
 his offers unreservedly unless he were completely sat- 
 isfied that Octavian would be not only not hostile to 
 the tyrannicides, but actively their friend. Cicero 
 was magnificently loyal to the Liberators. 
 
44 B.C.] Octavian and the Senate \ 45 
 
 The month of November slowly passed. Cicero 
 moved nearer and nearer to Rome anxious, above 
 all things, not to fall in with Antonius, who was 
 rushing hither and thither " with Caesarian rapidity," 
 and finally, when Antonius had gone off to the bor- 
 ders of Cisalpine Gaul with his army, Cicero entered 
 the city on December 9th. But before he passed 
 within its walls he took from his desk the Second 
 Philippic and published it to the world. Thence- 
 forward there could be no possibility of reconcilia- 
 tion or accommodation between them. The effect 
 of its publication was instantaneous ; and well it 
 might be, for in all the literature of invective there 
 is nothing to be compared with this Second Philip- 
 pic. Antonius was both hated and feared. He had 
 no popular following. His power lay in the swords 
 of the legions which he had bought over to his serv- 
 ice, and in his position as the chief magistrate of 
 Rome. Cicero in this pamphlet painted his charac- 
 ter in the blackest colours, assailed him as the enemy 
 of his country, and called upon all good citizens to 
 unite for his overthrow. It was more than a politi- 
 cal manifesto, — it was a direct call to arms, and the 
 writer stood forward as the champion of the Re- 
 public. For the next seven months Cicero was the 
 leader of the constitutionalist party. Upon him, and 
 not upon the absent Brutus, the hopes of the Opti- 
 mates rested. 
 
 We may pass rapidly over the events in Rome 
 during the remainder of the year. The capital was 
 deserted by its principal magistrates. Antonius, the 
 Consul, was besieging Decimus Brutus in Mutina; 
 
46 Augustus Ccesar [44 B.C. 
 
 Dolabella, his colleague, had already gone to Syria 
 to possess himself of his province. Of the prae- 
 tors, Brutus and Cassius had long been absent, and 
 Caius Antonius had sailed to seize Macedonia in 
 his brother's interests. But the new tribunes entered 
 peacefully upon their duties on December loth, and 
 one of these, Marcus Servilius, called a meeting of 
 the Senate for the 20th to debate what steps should 
 be taken for the public security until Hirtius and 
 Pansa, the Consuls-designate, took over the con- 
 sulship on January 1st. .Cicero flung himself with 
 whole-hearted vigour into the breach. He took upon 
 himself the duties of the executive government. At 
 the meeting on the 20th he dehvered the Third Phil- 
 ippic before a full house, and then, passing into the 
 Forum, harangued the crowd with the Fourth. He 
 found the Senate willing to accept his strong lead 
 against Antonius. They decreed their solemn thanks 
 to Octavian and his veterans, to the two legions which 
 had deserted Antonius, and to Decimus Brutus for 
 the confident front he was shewing in Cisalpine Gaul. 
 Cicero's rhetoric was irresistible ; the people in the 
 Forum shouted that he had twice saved the State, 
 and he himself believed that upon that glorious 
 day he had laid anew the foundations of a Free 
 RepubHc. 
 
 At last on January 1st, the two new Consuls entered 
 upon their office. Antonius was no longer the chief 
 magistrate of the year with power to raise levies, and, 
 in Cicero's opinion, he ought to be crushed at once. 
 Consequently, at the meeting of the Senate, the 
 orator insisted that Antonius should be declared a 
 

43 B.C.] Oct avian and the Senate 47 
 
 public enemy and that war should be declared with- 
 out delay. Cicero was undoubtedly right and the 
 policy which he advocated in the Fifth Phihppic was 
 sound. He would have no parley with Antonius. 
 If the ex-Consul wanted peace, let him lay down his 
 arms ; if he was not an enemy to the State, let him 
 obey the Senate. Cicero, by this time, had fully 
 persuaded himself of the sincerity of Octavian's pro- 
 fessions of loyalty, or, if any doubts still lingered in 
 his mind, he had determined to keep them in the 
 background. Hence the glowing eulogy of the young 
 champion of the Republic which appears in the Fifth 
 Philippic and the famous passage which, even after 
 the lapse of so many centuries, it is difficult to read 
 unmoved as we recall the tragic sequel. 
 
 I know intimately the young man's every feeling. 
 Nothing is dearer to him than the Free State; nothing 
 has more weight with him than your influence; nothing 
 is more desired by him than the good opinion of virtu- 
 ous men; nothing is more delightful to him than true 
 glory. Therefore, so far from your having any right to be 
 afraid of him, you should rather expect from him greater 
 and nobler services ; nor should you apprehend, in the 
 case of one who has gone to free Decimus Brutus from 
 being besieged, that any memory of private affliction 
 will remain and have greater weight with him than the 
 safety of the State. I venture to pledge my word, Senat- 
 ors, to you and to the Roman people and to the State — 
 and assuredly, were the case different, I should not ven- 
 ture to do so, as no force compels me, and in such an 
 important matter I dread being thought dangerously 
 rash — I promise, I undertake, I pledge my word that 
 
48 Augustus CcEsar [43 B.C. 
 
 Caius Caesar will always be as loyal a citizen as he is to- 
 day, and as our most fervent wishes and prayers desire. 
 
 Cicero, in other words, had staked his all on the 
 loyalty of Octavian. Yet he failed to screw the cour- 
 age of the Senate up to the point of declaring war 
 against Antonius. There were many in the Senate 
 who thought that the balance of military power in- 
 clined to the ex-Consul's side and did not wish to 
 push matters to extremes. There were others, again, 
 who distrusted Octavian, while a large number of 
 moderate men had friends and relatives in both 
 camps. Moreover, Cicero, despite his eloquence, 
 was never implicitly trusted by the Optimates. Re- 
 peatedly, during his long career, they had thrown 
 him over at the critical moment, and so now again, 
 after a long and frequently adjourned debate, they 
 decided to send envoys to Antonius. It may have 
 been some solace to Cicero that they adopted his 
 proposals respecting the awards and honours for 
 Octavian and Decimus Brutus, but he saw clearly 
 enough that the embassy was futile and that precious 
 time was being lost. 
 
 While events in Rome were shaping themselves 
 thus, warlike operations had been for some weeks in 
 progress in the north of Italy, though as yet no 
 blood had been shed. Antonius had raised his 
 standard at Tibur towards the end of November, 
 and summoned Decimus Brutus to withdraw from 
 Cisalpine Gaul. Decimus's only answer was to retire 
 to Mutina and fortify it against attack. Before the 
 end of the year, 44 B. C, Antonius had drawn his 
 
43 B.C.] Oct avian ajid the Senate 49 
 
 lines around the town and hoped to reduce it by 
 siege, as it was too strong to capture by assault. 
 Cisalpine Gaul, therefore, and the country about 
 Mutina in particular, formed the arena in which the 
 combatants were to fight out their quarrel. It is 
 impossible, however, to understand the tortuous 
 events of the next four months unless the state of 
 affairs in the neighbouring provinces is carefully 
 borne in mind. Decimus Brutus, who was irrevoc- 
 ably committed to the Republican cause by reason 
 of his enmity to Antonius and the special hatred 
 with which he was regarded by Caesar's veterans, 
 commanded the support of the three legions which 
 he had found in the province on taking it over from 
 his predecessor, and he had raised numerous levies 
 of raw troops. His nearest neighbour was Lucius 
 Munatius Plancus, governor of Gallia Comata, who 
 also had three legions under his command. Gallia 
 Narbonensis and Hither Spain were under the con- 
 trol of Lepidus and four legions, while Further Spain 
 was in the hands of Pollio with two legions. Much, 
 therefore, depended upon the disposition and loy- 
 alty of these three provincial governors, who, between 
 them, were masters of nine legions. Pollio, who was 
 furthest removed from the scene, gave Cicero the 
 most positive assurance of his loyalty, and seems to 
 have been genuinely devoted to the Republican 
 cause. Lepidus was far less to be depended upon, and 
 was strongly suspected of being in league with An- 
 tonius. It was to Plancus, therefore, who lay near- 
 est to Mutina, that Cicero turned most frequently, 
 and implored him to be true to his obvious duty 
 
50 Augustus CcEsar [43 B.C. 
 
 to the Republic. But Plancus preferred to sit upon 
 the fence and watch. He assured Cicero that he 
 was doing all he possibly could for the good cause, 
 — but he did not move a step towards the assistance 
 of Decimus Brutus. Yet he and PoUio and Lepidus 
 were always apparently on the point of moving, al- 
 ways just about to throw their swords into the scale 
 and, to the very end, Cicero never lost hope that 
 they would intervene to crush Antonius. 
 
 In all other quarters the outlook was distinctly 
 encouraging. The important province of Africa was 
 held by the loyal Quintus Cornificius. In the East, 
 the Republicans were prospering beyond all reason- 
 able expectation, and had only suffered one set-back 
 in the murder of Trebonius, on February 2nd, by 
 Dolabella, who had left Rome at the end of Novem- 
 ber, in order to secure his province of Syria before 
 the arrival of Cassius. The murder was one of re- 
 volting barbarity and made a deep impression at 
 Rome, where the Senate immediately declared Dola- 
 bella a pubHc enemy and authorised Cassius to wage 
 war against him. That able soldier soon made his 
 presence felt. At the beginning of March, 43, he 
 was at Tarichea in Palestine and had no fewer than 
 eleven legions under his command, for Lucius Mur- 
 cus, — who had been sent by Julius Caesar with three 
 legions to quell the revolt of Caecilius Bassus, one of 
 the lieutenants of Pompeius, — Quintus Crispus, the 
 Governor of Bithynia, and Aulus AUienus, marching 
 from Egypt, had joined their forces to his. Cassius, 
 therefore, held the whole of Asia Minor for the Re- 
 public, and a few weeks later Dolabella committed 
 
43 B.C.] Odavian and the Senate 51 
 
 suicide in despair, when blockaded and driven to 
 bay in the city of Laodicea. Marcus Brutus was 
 similarly engaged in Greece and Macedonia. He 
 had thrown off his paralysing indecision when he 
 quitted Italy. Greece welcomed him with open 
 arms, and, rapidly collecting an army, he occupied 
 Achaia, Macedonia, and Illyricum. Cicero was both 
 delighted and surprised. '' Our friend Brutus," he 
 wrote to Cassius in February, "has gained a brilliant 
 reputation, for his achievements have been remark- 
 able and unlooked-for, and, while welcome in them- 
 selves, they are all the more splendid on account of 
 the swiftness with which they have followed one 
 another." By a stroke of good fortune Brutus had 
 managed to take prisoner Caius Antonius, his rival 
 in the Macedonian command, whom he kept as a 
 valuable hostage. Practically, therefore, by the be- 
 ginning of March, the whole of the East was in 
 Republican hands, and this fact alone was sufficient 
 to justify the high hopes which Cicero entertained. 
 After the event it is easy to be wise, and the com- 
 plete and crushing failure of Cicero's policy has 
 provided subsequent historians with plentiful op- 
 portunities for indulging their sarcasm at the ora- 
 tor-statesman's expense. Most of these gibes are 
 ill-founded and ill-deserved. With Marcus Brutus 
 and Cassius holding the East, with Cornificius in Af- 
 rica, with the armies of Octavian and Decimus Brutus 
 near Mutina, Cicero had good warrant to feel con- 
 fidence in the future, even though the loyalty of 
 Lepidus, Plancus, and Pollio should prove a loyalty 
 of words rather than of deeds. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN OF MUTINA : OCTAVIAN BREAKS • 
 WITH THE SENATE AND SEIZES ROME 
 
 March to August, 43 B.C. 
 
 OCTAVIAN, too, had reason to be satisfied 
 with the general trend of events. Thanks 
 to the enthusiastic and whole-hearted way 
 in which the head of the constitutionalist party had 
 pledged his word for Octavian's loyalty, the Senate 
 had granted to their youthful champion pro-prae- 
 torian authority and senatorial rank among the 
 prcetorii. These distinctions they bestowed on Jan- 
 uary 1st; on the following day they admitted him 
 to a seat in the Senate, gave him the ornamenta 
 consiilaria, and facilitated his speedy rise to the 
 highest offices of the State by relaxing in his favour 
 the usual restrictions of age. Nor was this all. On 
 the motion of Philippus, he was voted an eques- 
 trian statue and was entrusted, in conjunction with 
 the Consuls, with the duty of effecting the release of 
 Decimus Brutus from Mutina. Octavian and his 
 legions were already within striking distance of the 
 army of Antonius, and by these decrees Cicero and 
 
 52 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaign of Mutina 53 
 
 the Senate hoped to bind them fast to the support 
 of their cause. Yet a considerable section still hesit- 
 ated to declare formal war against Antonius, and, 
 in spite of Cicero's remonstrances, eventually per- 
 suaded the Senate to send a last embassy to the 
 ex-Consul. Piso, Sulpicius, and Philippus were 
 chosen for this important duty. Their instructions 
 were precise and clear. They were not to negotiate, 
 but to deliver an ultimatum ; not to conclude a 
 treaty, but to demand entire submission. They 
 were to lay before Antonius the commands of the 
 Senate and threaten him with war unless he at once 
 complied. He was to raise the siege of Mutina, 
 quit Cisalpine Gaul, and not approach within two 
 hundred miles of Rome, on the penalty, if he declined, 
 of being declared a public enemy. The embassy 
 proved a total failure. Servius Sulpicius died on 
 the journey, and Antonius refused to allow Piso and 
 Philippus to enter his lines, and sent back to the 
 Senate a long list of counter-demands. He retorted 
 to their ultimatum with an ultimatum of his own, 
 and claimed rewards for his troops, full confirmation 
 of his enactments as Consul, an indemnity for the 
 State moneys he had disbursed, and the grant of 
 Gallia Comata with six legions to the close of the 
 year 39. These were impossible terms, and on Feb- 
 ruary 2nd war was declared. Levies were set on 
 foot by the Consuls throughout Italy, and the re- 
 sults more than answered Cicero's expectations. " All 
 are offering themselves spontaneously," he writes ; 
 " such is the enthusiasm which has taken possession 
 of men's minds from their yearning for liberty." 
 
54 Atigicstus CcBsar [43 B.C. 
 
 As money was urgently required for the equip- 
 ment and payment of the troops, the usual festivals 
 were abandoned to save expenditure ; a property 
 tax of four per cent, was imposed, and the Senators 
 also contributed a special charge of three sesterces 
 on every tile in their houses. Encouraged by the 
 good news constantly arriving from the East, Cicero 
 was in good heart, and delivered speech after speech 
 to the Senators and the people in order to fan the 
 flame of resentment against Antonius. But the 
 rival forces were slow in coming to hand-grips. It 
 was winter, and at the end of February the position 
 was much the same as at the beginning of the month. 
 Antonius had drawn off a considerable part of his 
 army from Mutina and was holding Bononia in 
 strength ; Hirtius was at Claterna ; Octavian at 
 Forum Cornelii, while Pansa was still collecting and 
 organising the levies and did not leave Rome for the 
 north until March 19th. Nor was it until the mid- 
 dle of April that the opposing armies came to close 
 quarters and brought on the general action which 
 Cicero and the Republicans at Rome were awaiting 
 with feverish impatience. 
 
 The story of the brief campaign which effectually 
 raised the siege of Mutina, set Decimus Brutus free 
 from his long confinement, and compelled Antonius 
 to beat a hasty retreat, to all appearances totally dis- 
 comfited, must be narrated in few words. Hirtius 
 and Octavian, acting throughout in concert, had 
 moved up to Bononia which was strongly held by 
 Antonius's troops. After a series of unimportant 
 skirmishes, Bononia seems to have been evacuated 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaign of Mu Una 55 
 
 by the Antonians, and Antonius himself sought to 
 crush the recruits of Pansa before they could effect a 
 junction with the main RepubHcan army. Advan- 
 cing, therefore, with two veteran legions eastward 
 along the ^milian Road, Antonius came into touch 
 with Pansa at Forum Gallorum on April 15th, and 
 after a stubborn engagement, in which Pansa himself 
 received a mortal wound, succeeded in gaining a vic- 
 tory. But his triumph was short-lived. Hirtius had 
 skilfully divined the strategy of Antonius and had 
 sent a strong contingent to attack him on the flank, 
 which arrived in time to turn the fortunes of the day 
 and thrust back the army of Antonius upon Mutina. 
 Meanwhile Octavian had repulsed an attack deliv- 
 ered upon his camp by Antonius's brother, Lucius, 
 and the general issue of the day's fighting was com- 
 pletely favourable to the RepubHcan cause. A week 
 later the Republican generals made a combined as- 
 sault upon the Antonian lines and stormed the camp. 
 Whether Decimus Brutus contributed to the victory 
 by sallying out of Mutina is doubtful ; probably his 
 troops were too enfeebled by the long siege which 
 they had undergone to be of much active assistance. 
 The victory, however, was complete and, in the first 
 flush of exultation at the defeat of Antonius, the 
 Republicans scarcely realised the serious blow they 
 had sustained in the death of the two Consuls. 
 
 Hirtius had fallen in the hour of victory, and a 
 few days later Pansa succumbed to the wound he had 
 received at Forum Gallorum. Their vacant places 
 simply acted as another incentive to the ambitions 
 of the aspirants for power. But these considerations 
 
56 Augustus CcBsar [43 B.C. 
 
 were overlooked in the joy of victory. No sooner 
 did the news of Antonius's first defeat reach Rome 
 than the citizens acclaimed Cicero as their saviour 
 and bore him triumphantly to the Capitol, and the 
 orator, on the following day, delivered the Fourteenth 
 and last of his Philippics before an applauding Sen- 
 ate. On the 25th news came that Mutina had been 
 relieved and that Antonius was in full flight, and 
 twenty-four hours afterwards he and his supporters 
 were declared public enemies. Every one took it 
 for granted that the success of the Republican cause 
 was assured. The Senate, on the motion of Cicero, 
 heaped distinctions on the head of Decimus Brutus, 
 decreed a thanksgiving of fifty days, and awarded 
 him a triumph. Statues and a public funeral were 
 voted to the dead Consuls ; the soldiers were to be 
 paid the donatives which had been promised them ; 
 while Octavian's share of the honours was limited to 
 an ovation. Nothing more clearly shews the univer- 
 sal conviction that the war was over and that there 
 was nothing more to be feared from Antonius than 
 the difference between the extravagant rewards 
 voted to Decimus Brutus and the grudging acknow- 
 ledgment paid to Octavian. The mistake cost the 
 Senate dear. Antonius, so far from being irretriev- 
 ably ruined, was to give signal proof of his military 
 genius by rescuing himself from a desperate posi- 
 tion ; the war, far from being over, had in reality 
 only just begun, and the tables were turned with 
 melo-dramatic suddenness. 
 
 It is important to emphasise this delusion of 
 Cicero and the Senate, for on no other supposition 
 
43 B.C.I The Campaign of Mutina 57 
 
 can we explain the recklessness with which they 
 prepared to fling aside the young general whose 
 energy and whose legions had contributed so much 
 to the defeat of Antonius's designs. They seem to 
 have taken for granted that as both Consuls of the 
 year had fallen in battle, Octavian would be content 
 to accept Decimus Brutus as the generalissimo of 
 the Republican forces. To what extent they really 
 believed in Octavian's loyalty we cannot say. Cicero, 
 indeed, had pledged his reputation that the young 
 man was devoted, heart and soul, to the Republic. 
 But when he made that pledge the ascendancy of 
 Antonius was still unbroken, and the Senate had 
 imperative need of Octavian's legions. They were 
 obliged, therefore, to accept his protestations, just 
 as they were obliged to accept the army which he 
 placed at their service. Yet that they were jeal- 
 ous and suspicious of the boy, whom they had 
 loaded with privileges in the day of imminent dan- 
 ger, became evident when the peril seemed to have 
 passed away. By their vote they gave all the 
 credit for the successful issue of the campaign to the 
 general, who had done little or nothing towards earn- 
 ing the victory. This would have been rash and 
 ill timed if Antonius had been slain ; it was nothing 
 short of madness with Antonius still at liberty and 
 in command even of a broken army. 
 
 The disastrous consequences of such mistaken 
 policy speedily became apparent. Antonius soon 
 gave renewed proof of the generalship which had 
 earned for him the confidence of his old commander, 
 JuHus. Extricating his shattered army from his 
 
58 Augustus Ccesar [43 b.c. 
 
 camp near Mutina, he marched south into Etruria, 
 and then, turning sharply to the west, struck across 
 to the sea. At Vada, near Genoa, he was joined by 
 his trusted lieutenant, Ventidius, who, with three 
 legions, had skilfully evaded the Republican armies, 
 and marched up unopposed from the south of Italy. 
 Unhampered by any close pursuit, though in con- 
 siderable straits for money and supplies, Antonius 
 crossed the Maritime Alps and encamped at Forum 
 Julii, the modern Frejus, within touch of the camp 
 of Lepidus. Whether Antonius might have been 
 overtaken and crushed by the Republican armies, 
 if they had followed him up at once, is one of those 
 unsolved military problems to which no answer can 
 be given. But that the attempt ought to have been 
 made is obvious. Who, then, was to blame for the 
 neglect to push home the victory won at Mutina? 
 The responsibility rests with Octavian. Antonius 
 was deliberately spared from effective pursuit by Oc- 
 tavian, who was in no mood to accept orders from 
 Decimus Brutus. The latter clearly saw what the 
 necessities of the moment demanded, but his army, 
 which for months had been besieged and cooped up 
 within narrow lines, had not the mobility required 
 for a hot pursuit. Decimus explained his enforced 
 inaction in a letter to Cicero, written in the middle 
 of May, which entirely acquits him of blame for 
 allowing Antonius to escape from the net : 
 
 I could not pursue Antonius at once for the follow- 
 ing reasons: I had neither cavalry nor pack animals. 
 I did not know that either Hirtius or Aquila had fallen. 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaign of Mutina 59 
 
 I could not feel confidence in Caesar, until I had met 
 with him and talked with him. Thus the first day after 
 the relief passed. The next morning I was summoned 
 to Bononia to see Pansa. On the way I received inform- 
 ation that he was dead. I hastened back to my feeble 
 forces {ad meas copiolas)^ for I can give them no other 
 name; they are terribly thinned and in a wretched plight 
 for lack of necessaries. Antonius got two days* start of 
 me and marched much farther in his flight than I did 
 in pursuit, for he went in disorder, I in regular form- 
 ation. 
 
 Consequently Decimus and his legions merely fol- 
 lowed in the track of Antonius and never got 
 within striking distance. Then, when he found it 
 was Antonius's intention to cross the Alps, Decimus 
 rightly concluded that there must be a secret un- 
 derstanding between Antonius and Lepidus, and 
 abandoning any further pretence of pursuit, he 
 turned off to the north, crossed the Graian Alps 
 joined Plancus at Cularo, and waited. 
 
 It was Octavian who, with his comparatively fresh 
 troops and with the legions of Hirtius and Pansa, 
 now left leaderless, should have pursued Antonius, 
 if he had been the loyal servant of the Senate he 
 pretended to be. But Octavian remained inactive. 
 He held aloof from Decimus, and though it is cer- 
 tain that some communications passed between 
 them their precise nature is unknown. The extra- 
 ordinary story narrated by Appian may certainly 
 be dismissed as mythical. According to him, Deci- 
 mus requested an interview, declaring that he re- 
 pented the part he had taken in the assassination of 
 
6o Augustus Ccesar [43 B.C. 
 
 Julius. To this Octavian is reported to have replied 
 that he had come, not to rescue Decimus but to fight 
 with Antonius; and that while he had no scruples 
 about effecting a reconciliation with Antonius he 
 would never look upon the face or listen to the 
 words of Decimus. Thereupon Decimus read aloud 
 the decree of the Senate investing him with the 
 command of the Cisalpine, and forbade Octavian to 
 cross the river or pursue Antonius, saying that he 
 was strong enough to pursue him alone and unaided. 
 The story is clearly a fabrication on the part of the 
 Caesarian historian, devised to throw the blame of 
 the escape of Antonius upon the shoulders of Deci- 
 mus and to acquit Octavian of all responsibility. 
 Nor have any modern historians accepted it as cred- 
 ible. Nevertheless, it corroborates what we know 
 from other sources of the ill-will subsisting between 
 the two commanders. " Caesar will take no orders 
 from any one, and his soldiers will take no orders 
 from him," wrote Decimus to Cicero. " If he had 
 acted on my advice and crossed the Apennines, I 
 should have reduced Antonius to such straits that 
 he would have perished of hunger and not by the 
 sword." Obviously, therefore, it was Decimus who 
 urged a vigorous pursuit and Octavian who held 
 back and facilitated Antonius's escape. 
 
 Young as Octavian was, his was the coolest head 
 of all those who were taking a leading part at this 
 critical moment. He must have seen that Cicero 
 and his Senate were using him as their cat's-paw 
 and accepted him as their champion only so long as 
 it was Antonius from whom they had most to fear. 
 
COIN OF JULIUS C/ESAR AND 
 MARCUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 SMALL COINS OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
 COIN OF BRUTUS. 
 
 COIN OF MARCUS ANTONIUS AND OCTAVIUS. 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaig7t of Mutma 6i 
 
 Their principal anxiety had been to safeguard the 
 position of the Liberators. Hence the alacrity with 
 which they had declared war against Dolabella for 
 the murder of Trebonius, and hence the decree which 
 gave Brutus and Cassius full power and control over 
 all the provinces and armies between the Adriatic 
 and the Orient. They had disclosed their hand thus 
 clearly even before the short campaign around Mu- 
 tina had opened ; they shewed their purpose still 
 more unmistakably when news came of the suc- 
 cesses won by the Consuls. It was quite manifest 
 which way the wind was blowing. Fully convinced 
 as they were at the moment that Antonius was irre- 
 parably ruined, they made haste to give the cold 
 shoulder to Octavian and cumulate all the honours 
 they had in their power to bestow upon Decimus 
 Brutus, who was one of themselves and was com- 
 mitted, hand and foot, to the oligarchical cause. But 
 if it was the policy of the Senate to crush Antonius 
 by means of Octavian and then sharply assert their 
 own authority over Octavian, it was the policy of 
 the latter to see that he was not shelved. While 
 the power of Antonius was unbroken it was ob- 
 viously to his interest to side with the Senate ; and 
 side with them he did. But it was not to his in- 
 terest to crush Antonius beyond hope of recovery. 
 Both were throwing for the same stake — personal 
 domination. The Senate, the RepubHcan chiefs, 
 and the Liberators above all, were their common 
 enemy, and until these were destroyed neither had 
 any chance of ultimate victory. We can hardly 
 suppose that at this early stage Octavian foresaw 
 
62 Angustus Ccesar 143 B.C. 
 
 how things would turn out, but we may fairly as- 
 sume that he read the intention of the Senate to 
 ignore as far as possible his claims to reward. From 
 that moment Octavian broke with the Senate 
 and began to intrigue for an understanding with 
 Antonius. 
 
 The latter, reinforced by Ventidius and his three 
 legions, was now encamped at Forum Julii. Twen- 
 ty-four miles away, at Forum Voconii, lay Lepidus, 
 who, as soon as he heard of Antonius's approach, 
 moved closer. Lepidus, at this time, was trusted by 
 very few. His reputation was bad, and his conduct 
 since the murder of Julius had not been such as to 
 inspire confidence. There can be little doubt that 
 if he had declared himself openly on the side of the 
 Senate he would have carried with him both Asin- 
 ius Pollio and Munatius Plancus. But so long as he 
 temporised they temporised also, and with seven 
 legions — including the famous Tenth — under his 
 command he was able to prevent Pollio and Plancus 
 from moving. Moreover, even in March, if Pollio is 
 to be believed, Lepidus was making speeches and 
 writing to tell everybody that he was one with An- 
 tonius. He intercepted the couriers whom Pollio 
 sent to Rome, and it became more and more evid- 
 ent that he would finally range himself on the side 
 of his old friend, especially when letters arrived at 
 Rome from him advocating peace. Decimus Brutus 
 had seen the danger and had written an agitated 
 note to Cicero begging him to make a last effort to 
 keep that "weather-cock Lepidus" straight, though 
 for his own part he was firmly convinced that he 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaign of Mutina 63 
 
 meditated treachery. Decimus was right. Instead of 
 attacking Antonius, Lepidus allowed his soldiers to 
 mingle with the legionaries of the ex-Consul and, 
 after a shew of compulsion, received him into his 
 camp and joined forces with the man who had been 
 declared a public enemy. Disgusted with the treason 
 of his chief, Laterensis, the chief lieutenant of 
 Lepidus, slew himself before the soldiers, but they 
 fraternised with the Antonians, and at the end of 
 May Antonius was again master of a powerful army. 
 Lepidus surrendered to him the real command of 
 the combined legions, and thus, instead of being a 
 fugitive, Antonius was once more a formidable com- 
 petitor for power. 
 
 The defection of Lepidus was the ruin of the sena- 
 torial cause in the western provinces. His treachery 
 was contagious, and the two other governors of the 
 Gallic and Spanish provinces wavered. Of these 
 the stronger was Lucius Munatius Plancus. Judg- 
 ing from his subsequent career, a career so full of 
 treachery that Velleius in a scathing phrase declares 
 that he had *' an itch for treason" — morbo proditor 
 — and was constitutionally incapable of remaining 
 loyal, we may safely infer that his repeated protest- 
 ations to his friend Cicero had been insincere, and that 
 he was only waiting to see which side would win. 
 Yet for a time he had a strong personal motive to 
 keep him honest to the Senate, inasmuch as Antonius 
 was seeking to obtain Plancus's province of Gallia 
 Comata for himself. This naturally threw Plancus 
 into the arms of the Senate, and determined him to 
 do his best to keep Lepidus loyal. Thus he was in 
 
64 Augustus CcBsar [43 B.C. 
 
 correspondence with Lepidus at the beginning of 
 April, when he proposed to march to the support of 
 Decimus at Mutina. But he started late. The bat- 
 tle of Mutina had already been fought when he 
 crossed the Rhone, and the news reached him while 
 he was still in the country of the AUobroges. At once 
 he wrote to Rome pressing for reinforcements, and 
 received a reply from Cicero imploring him to act 
 boldly, not to wait for instructions, but to do what 
 seemed best for the cause. *' Be your own Senate," 
 wrote Cicero, while still under the impression that 
 Antonius was a ruined man, " and complete his de- 
 struction." Plancus crossed the Isara on May 12th 
 and moved towards Lepidus, intending to join him 
 if he remained loyal. He had marched south for 
 two days, when Lepidus sent word to him to come 
 no nearer, for he was strong enough to finish the 
 business alone. Thereupon Plancus retired to the 
 Isara, but on the i8th he again marched south, 
 still negotiating. On the 29th Lepidus and An- 
 tonius joined camps, and Plancus hurriedly retraced 
 his steps to Cularo, on the Isara, where he was joined 
 by Decimus Brutus about the middle of June. 
 
 Octavian, meanwhile, was biding his time. His 
 army had not moved since the battle of Mutina. 
 He had declined to place his troops at the dis- 
 position of Decimus Brutus ; he now decHned to 
 take orders from the Senate. Instead of acting 
 as a general under the direction of the Executive, 
 he took up the role of a general with whom the 
 Executive must treat. Thus, while Decimus was 
 marching first on the track of Antonius and after- 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaign of Mutina 65 
 
 wards, when Lepidus and Antonius had joined 
 hands, was effecting a junction with Plancus, Oc- 
 tavian remained where he was, determined not to 
 lose the advantage he possessed of being nearest 
 to Rome. Cicero, indeed, had recognised as early 
 as April that there was the stuff in the boy of 
 which statesmen are made, real character, will, and 
 insight, and that it might be a difficult matter for 
 the Senate to keep a tight rein over him in the 
 flush of honours and popularity. Yet on the whole 
 he had had little doubt of his ability to manage him. 
 But when Mutina had been relieved and Octavian 
 refused to acknowledge Decimus as his Comman- 
 der-in-chief, Cicero and the Senate began to shew 
 impatience at these proofs of Octavian's independ- 
 ent spirit, and Cicero, in a fit of petulance, declared 
 that the policy of the Senate towards the young 
 man would be that of " kicking him up-stairs." 
 They would give him honours and decorations and 
 then quietly shelve him. The bon mot cost Cicero 
 dear. Some one carried it to Octavian's ears, 
 and Cicero had reason to repent his jingling play 
 upon words — laiidandum adolescentein, ornandum, 
 tollenduin — as the days passed by, and the truth 
 of the situation in the North became known. The 
 plight of the Constitutionalists grew graver as each 
 courier came in. But, like the Bourbons, the Ro- 
 man oligarchs never learned a lesson. Their ap- 
 pointment of a Commission of Ten to distribute 
 lands among the soldiers, and their refusal to give 
 Octavian a seat on the Board was a piece of 
 gratuitous folly and party spite. It angered the 
 
66 Augustus CcBsar [43 B.C. 
 
 soldiers on whose loyalty their very lives depended, 
 and was a plain intimation to Octavian that they 
 meant at the very first opportunity to clip his 
 wings. At the end of May Cicero's illusions were 
 shattered ; his serene confidence was gone. " I am 
 utterly paralysed," he writes to Brutus: " the Senate, 
 which was my instrument, is broken in my hands." 
 The treasury was empty. None of the generals, 
 nominally under senatorial control, could or would 
 move a step. Their troops demanded the pay 
 which was not forthcoming, and the emissaries of 
 Antonius and Lepidus were busy tempting them 
 from their allegiance. In despair Cicero wrote to 
 Brutus and Cassius, urging them to come over at 
 once with their armies and save the situation ; but 
 they did not even reply. The Senate still shewed 
 a bold front and declared Lepidus a public enemy, 
 but decrees were valueless when what was wanted 
 was money and legions. Throughout the whole of 
 July nothing was done. Cicero seems to have 
 hoped that Decimus and Plancus would march to at- 
 tack Antonius and Lepidus without delay, and that 
 Octavian would again set his army in motion. But 
 Plancus had no such expectation. In a striking 
 letter written from his camp in Gaul on July 28th 
 he cast the whole blame for the desperate straits 
 to which the Senate had been reduced upon Oc- 
 tavian. He said that he had never ceased import- 
 uning Octavian to march up and join him, and 
 that Octavian had uniformly replied that he was 
 coming without delay. And so, while professing 
 every regard for Octavian, he felt bound to declare. 
 
43 B.C.] The Campaign of Mutma 67 
 
 more in sorrow than in anger, that they had to 
 thank the boy for all their troubles. '' That An- 
 tonius is alive to-day, that Lepidus has joined 
 him, that they have an army which commands 
 respect, and that they they are full of hopes and 
 daring, — all this is due to Octavian." At last the 
 Senate ordered Pollio in Further Spain to march 
 towards Italy, Cornificius to embark two of his 
 African legions, and Octavian to go to the sup- 
 port of Decimus and Plancus. Octavian's answer 
 was decisive. He sent four hundred of his soldiers 
 and centurions to Rome to demand their promised 
 rewards. 
 
 It is difficult to understand why, in a crisis of 
 such gravity, the Senate allowed the consulship to 
 remain vacant for so many months after the deaths 
 of Hirtius and Pansa. One would have expected 
 that the first object of so sincere and devoted a con- 
 stitutionalist as Cicero would be to proceed to the 
 election of two safe men upon whose loyalty the 
 Senate might implicitly depend. There were, of 
 course, technical difficulties in the way. No one 
 but a Consul or a Dictator could hold the consular 
 comitia, and, while the two Consuls were dead, the 
 office of Dictator had been formally abolished dur- 
 ing the previous year. Nor could an interrex be 
 appointed for electing Consuls until the aiispicia 
 became vested in the whole body of patricians, and 
 this again was impossible as long as the auspicia 
 were held by any patrician magistrates. Many of 
 these magistrates were absent from Rome, and their 
 voluntary resignations could not be obtained. There 
 
68 Augttstus CcBsar [43 B.C. 
 
 was thus a deadlock of the sort which seems insur- 
 mountable to the rigid constitutionalist, but which a 
 strong leader, supported by a strong party, would 
 have resolutely brushed aside. Eventually the prob- 
 lem was solved by the appointment of two privati 
 with consular powers to hold the consular comi- 
 tia, a step which should have been taken much 
 earlier, when it was still possible for the Senate to 
 exercise a free choice. Yet the technical difficulties 
 were not the only ones. Even more potent were 
 the jealousies and ambitions to which the two vacant 
 offices gave rise. Octavian lost not a moment in 
 urging his claims, and his friends at Rome began a 
 vigorous canvas on his behalf. But Cicero opposed 
 them stoutly, and, as he says, exposed in the Senate 
 *'the source of their most criminal designs." The 
 later historians, Appian, Dion Cassius, and Plutarch, 
 agree in saying that Octavian approached Cicero 
 with the proposal that they two should be the new 
 Consuls. There is no trace of this in Cicero's own 
 letters ; but it is unwise to dismiss the story as a 
 mere fabrication. Such a proposal might well have 
 emanated from Octavian, desirous as he was of 
 obtaining a definite constitutional position in the 
 State, and knowing, too, that Cicero himself would 
 dearly like to be elected to a second consulship. 
 We are told that Cicero advised the Senate to make 
 a friend of Octavian, because he had an army, and 
 to give him as colleague a judicious, elderly states- 
 man ; and Appian goes on to say that the Senate 
 laughed outright at the suggestion, because they 
 knew Cicero's hankering after office, and that when 
 
vVUTINi 
 
 
 'iim;i 
 
 
THE CAMPAIGNaboutMUTINA 
 
 
43 B.C.] Octaviafi Seizes Rome 69 
 
 he spoke of "a judicious elderly statesman" he 
 meant none other than himself. 
 
 Whether any such speech was made or not, it is 
 certain that Octavian had few followers in the Senate, 
 which was essentially anti-Caesarian, and Pompeian 
 both in sympathy and policy. Cicero, who never 
 quite abandoned the hope that he might still play 
 the part of Nestor to Octavian's Telemachus, might 
 be deluded for a moment into entertaining the spe- 
 cious proposal for a joint consulship, but Cicero's party 
 were to a man against Octavian, and Cicero himself 
 speedily came out in strong opposition to him. 
 Nevertheless, the boy-general, whose veteran army 
 lay nearest to Rome, would not be ignored, and it 
 would seem that the Senate sought to compromise 
 matters with him by offering him the praetorship, 
 and appointing him as colleague of Decimus in the 
 war against Antonius. But, as usual, they mis- 
 judged the man with whom they had to deal. Oc- 
 tavian was now acting in league with Antonius, and 
 had no intention of marching to attack him. His 
 policy was to pick a quarrel with the Senate, and the 
 opportunity lay ready to his hand. Addressing his 
 legions, he denounced the Senate for the indignities 
 it had heaped upon him by refusing him the triumph 
 and the consulship which he had earned by his serv- 
 ices, and by requiring his army to enter upon a sec- 
 ond campaign before being paid for the first. He 
 advised them to send their centurions to Rome and 
 press for payment. The centurions went, and re- 
 ceived the answer that the Senate would send its own 
 delegates. But these delegates were instructed to 
 
70 Augustus Ccssaj' [43 B.C. 
 
 address themselves, in the absence of Octavian, to 
 the two legions which had deserted from Antonius, 
 and they endeavoured to persuade the troops to rest 
 their hopes not on their general, but upon the Sen- 
 ate, and to betake themselves to the camp of Deci- 
 mus on the Isara, where they would receive their 
 promised donative. The intrigue was clumsily con- 
 ceived. The legions refused to hear the delegates 
 except in the presence of their commander, and Oc- 
 tavian again harangued his army in an impassioned 
 speech, in which he declared that his safety and 
 theirs alike depended upon his obtaining the va- 
 cant consulship. Once more, therefore, the cent- 
 urions set out for Rome, to demand this time the 
 consulship for their general. Nor were these blunt 
 soldiers of the camp overawed by their surround- 
 ings as they were ushered into the Senate House. 
 When they were told that Octavian was too young 
 for the dignity of the chief magistracy, they replied 
 that the State had profited in days gone by from the 
 consulships of the youthful Scipios, and one of 
 them, bolder than the rest, did not hesitate to throw 
 back his military cloak, and, pointing to his sword, ex- 
 claimed : '* This shall make him Consul, if you refuse." 
 Scarcely less significant than this open threat was 
 the demand that the decree declaring Antonius a 
 public enemy should be repealed, an unmistakable 
 proof that Antonius and Octavian were now acting 
 in unison. But the Senate still refused compliance, 
 and the centurions returned to camp. As soon as 
 the army learnt that the embassy had proved a fail- 
 ure they clamored to be led against the city, and 
 
43 B.C.I Odavian Seizes Rome 71 
 
 Octavian, nothing loth, struck camp and crossed the 
 Rubicon in the early days of August. 
 
 With eight legions under his command, and their 
 full complement of cavalry and auxiliaries, Octavian 
 had little reason to be apprehensive of failure. Be- 
 tween him and Rome there was not a single veteran 
 legion to contest his passage. The road was open ; 
 he had but to march straight in. The only troops 
 the Senate still had at its disposal were a legion 
 of recruits which Pansa had raised and left behind 
 him when he marched towards Mutina with the 
 rest of the Italian levies. Consequently, as soon as 
 news came that Octavian was advancing towards 
 Rome, the whole city was panic-stricken, and the 
 Senate hastened with ignominious celerity to pass 
 resolutions granting Octavian all he asked for, and 
 promising his soldiers a donative of 5000 instead of 
 2500 drachmae. Messengers were hurriedly de- 
 spatched to the General to inform him of these 
 decisions, but no sooner had they started than the 
 senators repented their craven conduct and rescinded 
 the decrees they had just passed. Two legions 
 had arrived at Ostia from Africa, and their timely 
 appearance infused a momentary gleam of hope 
 into the timid constitutionalists. They remem- 
 bered with shame the glorious traditions of the past, 
 and determined either to save their liberty or die for 
 it. All who were of military age were called to 
 arms and the city was placed in a posture of de- 
 fence. News of this sudden change of front reached 
 Octavian just as he was giving audience to the 
 Senate's delegates, who were promising him full 
 
72 Augustus CcEsar [43 B.C. 
 
 submission. They withdrew at once in confusion and 
 Octavian immediately pressed forward. He seized 
 without resistance a position just beyond the Quiri- 
 nal Hill, and, as he held his troops well in check, 
 the population poured forth and welcomed his ap- 
 proach. The next day he entered Rome with a 
 strong guard : the three Republican legions, in spite 
 of their generals, transferred themselves to his side, 
 and the farcical opposition of the Senate was at an 
 end. Cicero himself sought and obtained an inter- 
 view with the victor and urged a strong claim to 
 indulgence. Octavian received him with the bitter 
 sarcasm that he was the last of his friends to come 
 and see him. Yet the very next night, when an idle 
 rumour got abroad that the Fourth and Martian 
 legions had deserted from Octavian to the Senate, 
 , Cicero greedily accepted it and the Senators hastily 
 assembled in the Curia. They had scarcely met 
 when the canard was exposed, and the meeting 
 silently melted away. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE TRIUMVIRATE AND THE CAMPAIGN OF 
 PHILIPPI 
 
 43-42 B.C. 
 
 ^^ 'T^HE boy" was in possession of Rome and, 
 J^ on August 19th, he was elected Consul, re- 
 ceiving as his colleague his kinsman, Quin- 
 tus Pedius. Octavian acted at this critical moment 
 with rare judgment and coolness. T!ie comitia 
 were held in due form, and the candidate made a 
 parade of self-denial by abstaining even from enter- 
 ing the Forum. Cicero and those who had acted 
 with him silently disappeared from the scene, ap- 
 prehensive of danger, but as yet unmolested. The 
 remnant of the Senate hastened to comply with the 
 young Consul's wishes. They rescinded the decrees 
 against Dolabella, against Antonius, and against 
 Lepidus. They passed a resolution for the condem- 
 nation of Caesar's murderers, who were formally 
 interdicted from fire and water. And then, when 
 he had paid his soldiers 2500 drachmae a head from 
 the State treasures on the Janiculum, and the curies 
 had once more ratified his legal adoption by Julius, 
 
 73 
 
74 Augustus CcEsar [43 B.C. 
 
 Octavian was ready to quit the city and march 
 north with his army to intercept the retreat of Deci- 
 mus Brutus and complete his understanding with 
 Antoniusand Lepidus. 
 
 The constitutionaUst party in Rome had fallen 
 with a crash. Brutus and Cassius, with a cynical 
 disregard for the fate of their staunchest champion, 
 had not sent so much as a single cohort to help him 
 during these months of stress. Cicero, indeed, had 
 seen all his props snap and break one by one. The 
 Governors of the western provinces had gone over 
 to the enemy. Pollio, marching from Spain with 
 three legions, had got no farther than the head- 
 quarters of Lepidus and Antonius. He could not 
 pass them ; he therefore joined them. And it was 
 through Pollio's influence and mediation that Plan- 
 cus became reconciled with Antonius, and trans- 
 ferred hirnself and his army to the enemies of the 
 Senate. Decimus Brutus alone remained faithful. 
 For him there was no room in the Antonian camp ; 
 with him there could be no accommodation. De- 
 serted by Plancus, he decided to risk the desperate 
 hazards of a long march across the Alps, and then 
 make his way through Aquileia and lUyricum to 
 the side of his brother Marcus in Macedonia. His 
 ten legions, mostly composed of recruits, refused to 
 follow him. One by one they deserted his standard 
 and joined either Octavian or Antonius, until Deci- 
 mus was left with no more than three hundred 
 horsemen, who finally dwindled down to ten. Dis- 
 guising himself as a Celt, he and his little band at 
 length fell into the hands of a brigand chief, named 
 
43 B.C.] The Triumvirate 75 
 
 Camillus, who sent word to Antonius of the prize he 
 had taken, and was at once bidden to forward the 
 head of his captive. Such was the miserable end of 
 Decimus, one of the few able soldiers who supported 
 the sinking cause of the Republic. By his death and 
 by the loss of his legions the constitutionalists were 
 left without a single general or a single army west 
 of the Adriatic. They now waited with shivering 
 apprehension to learn the fate their conquerors would 
 impose. 
 
 Nor had they to wait long. Antonius and Lepi- 
 dus, marching south with their troops, met Octavian 
 in the neighbourhood of Bononia. A conference was 
 arranged to take place on a little island of the river 
 Rhenus, which was approached by a bridge from 
 either bank of the stream. It was agreed that each 
 of the Generals should be escorted by five legions to 
 within a certain distance of the river; that each 
 should advance with a body-guard of three hundred 
 horsemen to the head of the bridge, and that the 
 three chiefs should then cross unarmed to the islet in 
 the middle. Such were the careful precautions taken 
 against treachery by those who were about to divide 
 amongst themselves the dominion and the spoils 
 of the Roman RepubHc. For three days the con. 
 ference lasted, and it was then announced to the 
 expectant armies that their leaders had formed them- 
 selves into a Triumvirate for the reconstitution of 
 the State. They were to be appointed for five years 
 with full powers to select the occupants of the 
 yearly magistracies; Octavian was to resign the 
 consulship in favour of Ventidius for the remainder 
 
76 Augustus CcBsar [43 b.c. 
 
 of the year; and the provinces were to be divided 
 into three spheres of influence, — to borrow a term 
 from modern diplomacy, — in which each should be 
 supreme and secure from the meddling of his col- 
 leagues. The Gallic provinces were to fall to An- 
 tonius, with the exception of Gallia Narbonensis, 
 which, together with the two Spains, was allotted to 
 Lepidus. Octavian, on the other hand, was to rule 
 over Sicily, Sardinia, and Africa. Italy was to remain 
 neutral ground, but Lepidus, with Plancus for col- 
 league, was to be consul for the ensuing year, and, 
 in consideration of the advantages which this ofifice 
 would give him, was to retain only three legions, and 
 divide his remaining seven among his colleagues 
 for the prosecution of the war against Brutus and 
 Cassius. Three were to join the standard of Oc- 
 tavian, and four were to transfer themselves to An- 
 tonius, thus raising the armies of both to twenty 
 legions each. The soldiers were to be rewarded 
 for their past services by a liberal grant of money 
 and lands, and, as ready cash was hard to find, the 
 Triumvirs did not scruple to apportion among 
 their troops eighteen of the most flourishing towns 
 in the south, as well as others in the north, of Italy, 
 which were thus treated as though they had been 
 the spoils of foreign war. 
 
 Then swiftly and remorselessly fell the blow for 
 which the constitutionalists had been waiting. Dur- 
 ing their sinister deliberations upon the islet of the 
 Rhenus, the Triumvirs had decreed not only the 
 subversion of the Republic but the ruin of their 
 private enemies. They had determined to kill off 
 
43 B.C.] The Triumvi7^ate jy 
 
 their principal antagonists and to safeguard their 
 position by a massacre. The evil precedents which 
 Marius and Sulla had established were to be fol- 
 lowed once again. At first only seventeen names 
 appeared in the fatal list. But the city was already 
 in a state of wild panic, for the Triumvirs had de- 
 spatched their executioners in advance, so that they 
 might strike down their victims without warning. 
 Rome was suddenly startled one night to learn 
 that four senators had been slain in the streets and 
 that their murderers were hunting for others. Ap- 
 pian describes how, as the news spread, every man 
 thought that he was the person for whom the pur- 
 suers were searching, and how, in order to stay the 
 frenzied alarm, Pedius, the Consul, hurried round 
 with heralds to the houses of the leading citizens 
 and implored them to wait until daylight, when he 
 hoped to obtain more accurate information as to the 
 purpose of the Triumvirs. Then, on the morrow, 
 he published the list of seventeen names and pledged 
 the public faith that these were all. Stricken with 
 sudden illness, Pedius died the following night, and 
 was spared the knowledge that he had pledged his 
 word to a falsehood. But his assurance had calmed 
 the city, and so, when the Triumvirs entered Rome 
 soon after, on three separate days, each with a praetor- 
 ian cohort and one legion, the Republicans thought 
 that the blood of the unfortunate seventeen would 
 suffice to slake their new masters' thirst for ven- 
 geance. But no sooner had the people passed a law 
 ratifying the appointment of the Triumvirate than 
 a second proscription list, containing a hundred and 
 
78 A ugustus CcBsa r [4 3 B . c. 
 
 thirty names was published, followed shortly after- 
 wards by a third, containing a hundred and fifty 
 more. Nor was that all. New names were con- 
 stantly added, and for weeks Rome and Italy lived 
 in a state of hideous terror, while the bloody work 
 was being carried on and the soldiers were hunting 
 down their victims to destruction. 
 
 Appian has fortunately preserved for us what pur- 
 ports to be the text of the manifesto issued by 
 the Triumvirs, in which they sought to justify their 
 policy of murder. They went straight to the point. 
 Caesar, they said, had been assassinated by the men 
 whom he had pardoned and admitted to his friend- 
 ship ; for their part, they preferred to forestall their 
 enemies rather than suffer at their hands. Those 
 whom they now proscribed had lavished honours 
 upon Caesar's assassins, and had declared Lepidus 
 and Antonius public enemies. They had clearly 
 shewn what course they would have taken had they 
 proved victorious ; was it reasonable, therefore, to 
 expect that the Triumvirs would allow them to take 
 advantage of their absence and plot their ruin while 
 they were grappling with Brutus and Cassius? So 
 ran their argument. In a word, they justified them- 
 selves by the cruel necessities of the situation. But 
 their plea has not been accepted by the generations 
 which have come after them. History, with unani- 
 mous verdict, has condemned the proscription as a 
 monstrous massacre. Still, while we condemn, can- 
 dour requires that we should at least ask what the 
 policy of the victims would have been if they had had 
 it in their power to slay or spare those who now 
 
43 B.C.] The Triumvirate 79 
 
 condemned them to die. What would Cicero have 
 counselled if Antonius had lain at his mercy? There 
 can be no hesitation as to the answer. He would 
 have taken his enemy's Hfe with as little compunc- 
 tion as he had taken the lives of Lentulus and Ce- 
 thegus during the Catilinarian conspiracy. Cicero, 
 though one of the gentlest and most humane spirits 
 of antiquity, gloried in the assassination of Julius 
 Caesar. The memory of the Ides of March had been 
 his chief consolation during the last two years of his 
 life, tempered only by the regret that, when the 
 Liberators slew the master, they spared the man. 
 *' How I wish you had invited me to that banquet 
 of yours on the Ides," he had written to Trebonius, 
 "there would have been no leavings." If these 
 were the real sentiments of Cicero — and the con- 
 stant repetition of the thought in his Letters leaves 
 no room for doubt — what had Cicero to expect from 
 Antonius but death } " I don't approve your clem- 
 ency," Cicero had written to Brutus in Macedonia; 
 " I am convinced that as a policy it is wrong, and 
 that, if it be adopted, there will never be any hope 
 of ending the civil wars." What is this, again, but a 
 naked justification of proscription, a definite advo- 
 cacy of the principle of killing off your foes when 
 they fall into your power ? We cannot believe that 
 Cicero would have approved a general proscription 
 and reign of terror. His humanity would have re- 
 volted at the sight of indiscriminate slaughter. But 
 his party would have had no such scruples. If 
 Pompeius had defeated Julius Caesar, there would 
 have been another Sullan massacre. The Optimates 
 
8o Augustus CcBsar [43 B.C. 
 
 had gloried in the prospect of exterminating their 
 enemies. Julius, on the other hand, tried clemency 
 and lost his life by the rash experiment. And it 
 is idle to deny that the Pompeians, who followed 
 Cicero's lead, were prepared to take the same ven- 
 geance upon Antonius and Lepidus, which these in 
 their hour of triumph now took upon them. ** Vcb 
 victis " had been the cry with which the combatants 
 on both sides had taken up arms. 
 
 Moreover, the Triumvirs had still the eastern 
 half of the Republic to conquer, where Brutus and 
 Cassius were in arms with a formidable army. If, 
 then, they had spared their enemies, with what con- 
 fidence could they have marched to the East, leav- 
 ing Cicero behind to inflame the multitude against 
 them and to persuade the Senate once more to de- 
 clare them public enemies, should the fortune of war 
 incline even momentarily to the side of the Repub- 
 licans ? While Cicero lived, the Triumvirs could not 
 feel secure, and though, doubtless, Antonius claimed 
 him as his special victim, we can scarcely hesitate to 
 believe that both Octavian and Lepidus willingly 
 acquiesced in placing his name first on the list of the 
 proscribed. The patriot statesman — and with all his 
 faults, no Roman better deserved that honourable 
 name — was the common enemy of the enemies of 
 the Republic. But if Cicero was marked down for 
 destruction, not so much to gratify the private an- 
 imosity of Antonius as because, even in the hour of 
 his failure, he threatened danger to the Triumvirate, 
 there were crowds of more obscure victims, for 
 whose appearance on the proscription lists reasons 
 
43 B.C.] The Triumvirate 8i 
 
 of state could offer no pretext. The Triumvirs had 
 drawn up the Hsts of the doomed in cold blood. 
 Each had his own special enemies, and in many 
 cases the enemy of the one was the friend of the 
 other two. It came, therefore, to be a barter of 
 one's friends and even of one's relatives. Antonius 
 sacrificed an uncle to the resentment of his col- 
 leagues; Lepidus and Plancus each wrote the death- 
 warrant of a brother. Then when reasons of state 
 and private hatred had been satisfied, another and 
 perhaps even more powerful motive came into play. 
 The most pressing need of the Triumvirs was money. 
 The public treasury was empty. Not a drachma of 
 revenue was coming in from the East, and vast sums 
 were required in view of the military operations for 
 which the Triumvirs were preparing. Confiscation 
 seemed to afford the simplest and readiest method 
 of obtaining the necessary suppHes, and the Trium- 
 virs did not hesitate to place upon the proscription 
 list the names of rich men whose sole crime was that 
 they were rich while the new masters of the State 
 were poor. The property of the victims was con- 
 fiscated and sold for what it would fetch to the high- 
 est bidders; and then, having started the work of 
 murder, the Triumvirs found that they could not 
 control it. Numbers of men, whose names were 
 never on the fatal list at all, were wantonly mur- 
 dered by their private enemies, and the lurid pages 
 of Appian shew how from end to end of the Italian 
 peninsula the hateful massacre went on. 
 
 The odium and guilt of the proscription must rest 
 upon the Triumvirs equally. Suetonius, indeed, 
 
82 Augustus Ccesar [43 B.C. 
 
 tells us that Octavian at the outset opposed the 
 suggestion, but that when the bloody work had 
 once begun he prosecuted it with greater zest than 
 either of his colleagues. While they, in certain 
 cases, shewed themselves amenable to influence or 
 entreaty, he alone stood out resolutely for sparing 
 none. Moreover, a story was current that when at 
 length the lists were closed, and Lepidus, speaking 
 in the Senate, held out hopes of a milder adminis- 
 tration in the future, Octavian spoke in quite a dif- 
 ferent strain, and declared that, so far as he was 
 concerned, he had determined to reserve to himself 
 an absolutely free hand. Against this we have to 
 set the statement of Velleius that Octavian was 
 driven to consent to the proscription by the insistence 
 of his colleagues. But as Velleius throws the entire 
 blame upon Antonius, whom he paints in the black- 
 est colours, his testimony must be taken with re- 
 serve. The probabilities are that Octavian required 
 very little persuasion to fall in with the views of his 
 older associates. There was little of the generous 
 enthusiasm of youth in his disposition. He could 
 see, as well as they, the advantage to be reaped by 
 the removal of their most dangerous antagonists, 
 and, though he may have regretted the harsh fate 
 which was to fall upon Cicero, for whom he enter- 
 tained a strong personal regard, he made no effort 
 to save him. Cicero stood in his path. Cicero had 
 not scrupled to throw him aside as soon as he 
 thought he and his party could do without him. 
 In after years Augustus, the Emperor, might re- 
 member with emotion '' the great man and lover of 
 
42 B.C.] The Triumvirate 83 
 
 his country," whose death-sentence he had signed, 
 but Octavian, the Triumvir of twenty, was pitiless. 
 His only standard of conduct in those early days 
 was self-interest. Other considerations moved him 
 not. He could not afford to be generous until he 
 was supreme. 
 
 The Triumvirs had thus consolidated their posi- 
 tion by the murder of their leading opponents, and 
 replenished their treasury by the plunder of the con- 
 fiscated estates. At the earnest entreaty of the 
 troops, whose Caesarian sympathies made them im- 
 patient of the rivalry between Antonius and Octav- 
 ian, the new alliance was cemented by the marriage 
 of Octavian to a step-daughter of Antonius — the 
 daughter of his wife Fulvia by her first husband, 
 Clodius the tribune. Lepidus and Plancus entered 
 upon their consulships and celebrated the unearned 
 triumphs voted to them by the obsequious Senate, 
 while active preparations were set on foot for prose- 
 cuting the war in the regions which still held out for 
 the Republic. In Africa, where Cornificius refused 
 to acknowledge the authority of Sextius, who was 
 sent by Octavian to take over the province as his 
 nominee, the issue was speedily decided, for, after a 
 sharp campaign, Cornificius was slain in battle. But 
 a more formidable antagonist appeared in Sex- 
 tus Pompeius, who, with a well-equipped fleet, had 
 eagerly accepted the offer made to him by the Sen- 
 ate in its days of despair, that he should become 
 commander of the naval forces of the Republic. 
 Quitting Spain, where for years he had maintained 
 a foothold against the lieutenants whom Caesar had 
 
84 Attgustiis CcBsar [42 B.C. 
 
 sent against him, Sextus swooped down upon Sicily, 
 besieged the governor, and forced him to surren- 
 der, and thus, gaining possession of the whole island, 
 shewed bold defiance to the Triumvirs. As Sicily- 
 had fallen to Octavian's portion in the division of 
 the provinces, he collected a fleet, which he placed 
 under the command of Salvidienus, and himself 
 marched down to Rhegium with an army to co- 
 operate with his lieutenant. A naval engagement 
 followed, in which the advantage lay with Sextus 
 Pompeius ; but then, in answer to a pressing sum- 
 mons from Antonius, Octavian was obliged to aban- 
 don for the time being the conquest of the island 
 and make what haste he could to Brundisium, where 
 his colleague lay waiting to transport his troops 
 across the Adriatic into Macedonia. The campaign 
 which was to end on the battle-field of Philippi in 
 the utter ruin of the Republicans had now begun. 
 
 It is difficult to understand the strategy adopted 
 by Brutus and Cassius with regard to the disposition 
 of their forces at so critical a time. Cassius held the 
 East and was preparing an expedition against Egypt, 
 whose Queen, Cleopatra, was in league with the 
 Triumvirs. Brutus then summoned him to a con- 
 ference at Smyrna, whither he had withdrawn his 
 army from Macedonia, and there they held their 
 council of war. According to Appian, Brutus was 
 alarmed at the intelligence that Norbanus and De- 
 cidius Saxa, two of Antonius's lieutenants, had al- 
 ready crossed the Adriatic with eight legions, and 
 urged that they should unite their forces at once 
 and march towards Macedonia, in order to check the 
 
42 B.C.] T^h^ Triumvirate 85 
 
 forward movement of the Triumvirs. Cassius, on the 
 other hand, insisted that the armies of the Triumvirs 
 might safely be ignored for the present and that 
 their first concern should be to crush the Rhodians 
 and the Lycians, who were friendly to Antonius and 
 were possessed of squadrons which might otherwise 
 harass their rear. The Egyptian fleet also required 
 to be watched, and, in the meantime, he counted upon 
 the difficulty which the Triumvirs would experience 
 in obtaining the necessary supplies for their armies 
 to cripple their activity. The counsel of Cassius pre- 
 vailed, and while that general, with characteristic 
 energy, captured Rhodes and levied a tribute of 
 8500 talents from the inhabitants, Brutus subdued 
 the Lycians, took Zanthus and Patara, and exacted 
 from the towns of Asia Minor ten years' tribute in 
 advance. Then their admiral, Murcus, who had been 
 stationed off the Peloponnese to intercept the fleet 
 which Cleopatra had fitted out, learnt that a storm 
 had shattered it off the Libyan coast and that the 
 Queen herself had returned to Egypt. He was thus 
 free to operate in the Adriatic and moved at once to 
 blockade Antonius in the port of Brundisium, and 
 prevent the transportation of his army. It was then 
 that Antonius summoned Octavian to his assistance 
 from his unsuccessful campaign against Sextus ; and 
 the question of the moment was whether Murcus 
 could establish an effective blockade. He failed to 
 do so. Favoured by fortune and their own daring, 
 the Triumvirs succeeded in eluding the blockading 
 fleet, though this had been reinforced by a squadron 
 of fifty ships under Domitius Ahenobarbus, and 
 
86 Augustus CcEsar [4-2 B.C. 
 
 Murcus had now at his command no fewer than 130 
 ships of war and an even greater number of smaller 
 vessels. The transports crossed and recrossed with- 
 out mishap, and though the passage continued to be 
 hazardous and the presence of Murcus was a con- 
 stant source of peril, the whole army of the Triumvirs 
 was successfully transported. The naval supremacy 
 of the Republicans which, according to the accepted 
 theory of to-day, ought to have kept Antonius and 
 Octavian prisoners and helpless in the port of Brun- 
 disium, proved impotent to prevent the crossing, 
 and Murcus and Ahenobarbus did not succeed in get- 
 ting a blow home until the very day when the for- 
 tunes of their cause were ruined at Philippi. Then 
 they intercepted a few triremes which were convoy- 
 ing across a long string of transports, containing two 
 legions, a praetorian cohort, and four squadrons of 
 horse, and destroyed the whole flotilla. 
 
 The Triumvirs thus enjoyed more than their 
 reasonable share of good luck. They were favoured, 
 too, in another particular. Brutus apparently had 
 withdrawn all his legions from Macedonia and had 
 not left a single garrison to dispute the advance of 
 the enemy. The eight legions under Norbanus and 
 Saxa had pushed on, without encountering any op- 
 position, right through Macedonia, and had entered 
 Thrace before Brutus and Cassius moved up the 
 coast of Asia Minor, crossed the Hellespont and re- 
 viewed their army at Cardia on the gulf of Melas. 
 They then found that Norbanus and Saxa had 
 seized the two difficult passes of the Sapseans and 
 Corpileans, through which ran the only available 
 
42 B.C.] The Triumvirate 87 
 
 road. By the aid of the fleet they were able to out- 
 flank the enemy, who were obliged to vacate the first 
 of the two passes, and a friendly Thracian chief dis- 
 closed to them a circuitous and waterless track along 
 the side of the Sapaean mountain, whereby they 
 could again turn their opponents' position. Nor- 
 banus, finding his line of retreat threatened, retired 
 in the night towards Amphipolis, and the Repub- 
 lican generals advanced to Philippi, where they chose 
 an advantageous site for a camp and were joined by 
 the troops who had followed round the coast-line on 
 shipboard. There they awaited the approach of 
 Antonius and Octavian, and looked forward with 
 confidence to a battle on ground of their own choos- 
 ing. 
 
 Yet it is beyond dispute that the Republican 
 chiefs had committed a blunder of the very first 
 magnitude in leaving Amphipolis undefended and 
 making a present to their enemies of the town 
 which commanded the passage of the river Strymon 
 and the entrance into Thrace from Macedonia. Am- 
 phipolis was the key of Thrace, and so accomplished 
 a Hellenist as Brutus must have been well aware of 
 the struggles which had taken place for its posses- 
 sion in ancient times, first during the Peloponnesian 
 War, and later in the struggle between Philip of Ma- 
 cedon and Athens. The Republicans, as masters of 
 the sea, could have held it without difficulty, even 
 with a small garrison, while their main army had 
 been withdrawn to Asia Minor, but, with almost in- 
 conceivable fatuity, they allowed it to fall into the 
 hands of Antonius. The latter had given Norbanus 
 
88 Atigustus CcBsar [42 B.C. 
 
 orders to hurry on and seize it while Brutus was 
 still on the other side of the Hellespont, and he 
 was naturally delighted to find on his arrival that 
 his lieutenant had fortified it and made it secure 
 against attack. Antonius, therefore, leaving a sin- 
 gle legion to hold the place, moved on with his 
 main army and encamped within sight of the en- 
 trenchments of Brutus and Cassius. Octavian, ow- 
 ing to illness, had been obliged to remain behind for 
 a time at Epidamnus, but when he heard that the 
 two armies were in touch he insisted on being car- 
 ried forward in a litter, and brought up his legions to 
 join his colleague. 
 
 Brutus and Cassius had chosen their ground well. 
 The high-road ran through a narrow plain, flanked 
 on either side by a range of hills on which they 
 had pitched their camp. Across the intervening 
 space they built a connecting chain of fortifications. 
 Near by ran the river Gangites, and at their back 
 lay the sea, only eight stades distant, from which 
 they drew their supplies. Brutus's exposed flank 
 was protected by high cliffs ; Cassius's flank rested 
 upon a marsh which ran down to the sea. The ad- 
 vantage of position lay entirely with them. Time, 
 also, was on their side. They had abundance of 
 suppHes ; their line of communications was absol- 
 utely safe. They were in Wellington's favourite 
 position — holding high ground, with their ships as 
 a base. The Triumvirs, on the other hand, were in 
 a far more dangerous plight. Amphipolis was two 
 hundred and fifty stades away, and they had to sub- 
 sist on the countries in their rear. They could draw 
 
42 B.C.] The Triumvirate 89 
 
 nothing from Spain or Africa, which were closed by 
 the squadrons of Sextus; the Adriatic was blockaded 
 by Murcus and Domitius, and Thessaly and Mace- 
 donia were already exhausted by the strain which 
 had been imposed upon them. Cassius, especially, 
 who knew far better than his colleague the difficult- 
 ies of maintaining a large army in the field, strongly 
 counselled delay. Antonius did his best to force an 
 issue. The very boldness with which he had ad- 
 vanced right up to the Republican encampments — 
 a boldness which astonished his opponents — bore 
 witness to the urgency of his situation. And so he 
 endeavoured to cut a passage through the marsh 
 and penetrate to the rear of Cassius's camp. The 
 manoeuvre was discovered and thwarted by Cassius, 
 and Antonius then led his troops to the assault of 
 Cassius's main position, and brought on a general 
 engagement. 
 
 Our accounts of the first battle of Philippi are 
 confused and contradictory. According to Plutarch, 
 the Republicans had held a council of war on the 
 previous night and had decided to fight on Brutus's 
 recommendation, though Cassius still counselled in- 
 activity. Appian's story is that the battle began 
 with the charge of the Antonians, and that the 
 soldiers of Brutus, watching the enemy moving to 
 the assault, rushed impetuously down upon the 
 camp of Octavian. The legions of Octavian broke 
 and fled. His camp was captured and pillaged, and 
 the Triumvir himself, still prostrate from his illness, 
 only just managed to escape from his litter in time. 
 Rushing up, the soldiers pierced it in triumph with 
 
90 Anglistics CcBsar [42 B.C. 
 
 their swords, and the rumour spread that Octavian 
 himself had been slain. But while Brutus was carry- 
 ing all before him, Cassius, on the other wing, was 
 suffering an equally decisive defeat. The Anton- 
 ians stormed his camp, and Cassius took refuge in 
 flight. Retiring to the top of an eminence from 
 which he hoped to view the battle-ground, he no- 
 ticed a number of horsemen approaching and sent 
 his companion, Titinius, to reconnoitre and see if 
 they were friends. As Titinius approached they 
 opened their ranks to let him pass among them, and 
 one of their number embraced him. Cassius, not- 
 icing the act and rashly leaping to the conclusion that 
 his friend was slain, upbraided himself with having 
 lived too long and begged his freedman, Pindarus, 
 to inflict the fatal blow. Pindarus was never seen 
 again, but the corpse of Cassius was found with the 
 head severed from the body. Thus, in a moment of 
 reckless folly, the ablest of the two Republican 
 generals consented to his own death, and died not 
 knowing that his colleague had gained an entire 
 success. ** The last of the Romans," as Brutus 
 called him when bewailing his loss, by this unsol- 
 dierly act contributed more to the ruin of his cause 
 and the discouragement of his soldiers than did the 
 defeat which he had that day sustained. The next 
 morning Antonius again drew out his men in battle 
 array, as though eager to resume the contest, but 
 when Brutus followed his example and offered to 
 accept the challenge Antonius withdrew his men 
 into their quarters. 
 
 Twenty days elapsed before the combat was re- 
 
42 B.C.I The Triumvirate 91 
 
 newed. In the meantime, news had been brought 
 to the Triumvirs of the disaster which had over- 
 taken their fleet and transports in the Adriatic, and 
 they grew doubly anxious about the insufficiency of 
 their suppHes. Daily, therefore, they led out their 
 troops to offer battle to the enemy, but Brutus re- 
 mained quiet in his unassailable position, reorganis- 
 ing and encouraging the shattered legions of Cassius 
 and promising them the spoil of the Greek cities as 
 an incentive to steadfastness and loyalty. Officers 
 and men chafed at such prolonged inaction. The 
 senators in his camp thrust their ignorant advice 
 upon him as they had done upon Pompeius before 
 Pharsalus. They taunted him with cowardice, en- 
 couraged the troops to murmur against his leader- 
 ship, and, in the end, prevailed upon him, in defiance 
 of his better judgment, to stake his all upon the 
 issue of a second battle. Appian, indeed, suggests 
 that Brutus distrusted the loyalty of such of his 
 legions as had fought under Caesar and feared lest 
 they should make common cause with the veteran 
 troops of Antonius and Octavian. The determina- 
 tion with which they faced the enemy acquits them 
 of this reproach. In all Roman history there was 
 no more stubbornly contested fight. Both armies 
 advanced slowly but resolutely. The usual pre- 
 liminary tactics, the exchange of clouds of arrows, 
 stones, and javelins, were dispensed with. This was 
 a battle of the legionaries alone. The front lines 
 of the opposing armies met and fought out their 
 quarrel in single combat. When they fell, others 
 took their place. At length the Octavians gradually 
 
92 Augustus CcBsar [42 B.C. 
 
 pressed back those in front of them as if, in the 
 picturesque words of Appian, they were putting in 
 motion a heavy machine. The Republicans retired 
 at first slowly, then in confusion, and finally they 
 broke and ran. Part escaped to the fortified camp ; 
 others sought safety in flight and were cut down by 
 the Antonians, whose general " was everywhere, and 
 everywhere attacking." When night fell, Brutus 
 was cut off from his camp and retired to the summit 
 of a neighbouring hill with the remnant of four 
 legions. The next day he would have made a de- 
 sperate effort to cut his way through, but the spirit 
 of his followers was broken. The officers, who had 
 egged him on to fight, now sullenly told him to 
 shift for himself. They had tempted fortune often 
 enough and would not throw away their last chance 
 of coming to terms with their victor. To a Roman 
 there was but one course left open, and Brutus died 
 on the sword of his friend, Strato. His army no 
 sooner learnt that their leader was dead than they 
 sent envoys to the Triumvirs to sue for the pardon 
 which was promptly promised them, and the legions, 
 to the number of 14,000 men, were transferred to 
 the standards of Antonius and Octavian. 
 
 The carnage in the two battles of Philippi had 
 been heavy. Brutus, Cassius, and a host of others, 
 bearing the proudest names of the senatorial fam- 
 ilies, perished, and with them fell the Roman Re- 
 public. They disdained to survive the liberty for 
 which they had taken up, first, the cowardly dagger 
 of the assassin and then the honourable sword of the 
 soldier. It is not necessary in this place to attempt 
 
MARCUS BRUTUS. 
 
 FROM THE BUST IN THE MUSEUM OF THE CAPITOL IN ROME (viSCONTI ). 
 
 (Battmeisier.) 
 
42 B.C.] The Triumvirate 93 
 
 to weigh their characters and their actions in the 
 balance. But it may be pointed out how strangely 
 even their memories have experienced the vicissi- 
 tudes of fortune. For centuries after their death 
 they were hailed as the champions of liberty, as the 
 vindicators of the old Roman spirit, as the dauntless 
 friends of freedom, and as the last of the Romans. 
 Poets have sung their glories ; their names have 
 been invoked in every political revolution against 
 absolutism ; their example has nerved the arm of 
 tyrannicides and stimulated democracies to rise in 
 angry revolt. But modern criticism has rudely torn 
 them from their pedestal. It has shewn how selfish, 
 how narrow, how essentially oligarchical were the 
 liberties which they championed ; how impotent was 
 the Senate to rule a world-wide empire ; how black 
 was the treachery of the ingrates who slew their 
 patron ; how vacillating and feeble we're the hands 
 they laid on the helm of the State ; how reluctant 
 and suspicious was the support they tendered to 
 Cicero; how even the epithet of ^'virtuous" must 
 be denied to the student and philosopher, Brutus; 
 while in the crisis of his life the experienced soldier, 
 Cassius, gave way to petulant and womanish despair. 
 And yet, when all is said, they were the real repre- 
 sentatives of the Republic, representing its virtues 
 as well as its vices, its weakness as well as its 
 strength, its nobility as well as its meanness. Imi- 
 tators they left behind them, but no successors. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE PERUSIAN WAR: RENEWAL OF THE TRIUM- 
 VIRATE 
 
 41-36 B.C. 
 
 THE victors of Philippi speedily went their sep- 
 arate paths. Antonius, with a powerful army, 
 undertook to reduce the East to submission, 
 while Octavian returned to Italy to settle the vet- 
 erans in their miUtary colonies. Nor did they con- 
 sult Lepidus in the new arrangements. While they 
 had been campaigning in Macedonia, rumours of 
 check and disaster had been current in Rome, and 
 their colleague, the Consul, was strongly suspected 
 of intriguing with Sextus Pompeius. Consequently, 
 Antonius and Octavian assigned to themselves the 
 supreme command in Gallia Narbonensis and the 
 Spanish provinces, which had been given to Lepidus 
 at the conference near Bononia, but it was agreed 
 that if Lepidus cleared himself to Octavian's sat- 
 isfaction he should be granted compensation else- 
 where. Cisalpine Gaul was incorporated and placed 
 on a footing of equality with the rest of Italy — an 
 old scheme of Julius — and then, after dismissing 
 
 94 
 
41-36 B.C.] The Perusian War 95 
 
 from military service the soldiers who had served 
 their full time, with the exception of eight thousand 
 who volunteered to remain with the eagles, the 
 Triumvirs parted — Antonius for the East, Octavian 
 for the West. Antonius had chosen the easier and 
 more congenial task. His march was absolutely 
 unopposed. The provinces submitted one by one 
 without a blow, and the conqueror imposed upon 
 them his imperious will. On the cities which had 
 resisted the Republican chiefs and suffered heavily 
 at their hands he bestowed his lavish favours, but 
 those which had espoused their cause only to be 
 plundered he spoiled anew. Brutus and Cassius 
 had wrung ten years'*tribute in advance from Asia ; 
 Antonius bluntly demanded a like contribution, 
 cynically avowing that he was in pressing need 
 of money and that the provincials might consider 
 themselves fortunate that he asked no more. Con- 
 tinuing his triumphal march, he reached Cilicia. 
 There he met the Queen of Egypt, who, with 
 supreme confidence in the potency of her charms to 
 captivate the pleasure-loving Antonius, had travelled 
 to Tarsus in order to offer excuses and obtain for- 
 giveness for her failure to send a fleet to the aid of 
 the triumviral forces. Cleopatra conquered with a 
 glance and easily persuaded Antonius to return with 
 her to Alexandria, where he spent the autumn and 
 the winter of 41 B.C. among the riotous pleasures of 
 the Egyptian capital, while his troops rusted with 
 inactivity and he himself allowed his ambition to 
 sleep. 
 
 Octavian had a much sterner task to face. To 
 
96 Augustus CcBsar [41 b.c- 
 
 establish his control over Rome and the West was a 
 vastly more difficult undertaking than to march at 
 the head of a victorious army through the unresist- 
 ing East. It must be carefully borne in mind — 
 though the temptation to forget it is strong — that 
 the prestige of the victory won at Philippi and the 
 chief credit for the successful issue of a most hazard- 
 ous campaign rested not with him but with Anton- 
 ius. Octavian's share in the triumph had been 
 small. The expedition against Sextus for the re- 
 covery of Sicily had been an inglorious fiasco, and 
 his camp had been stormed by the soldiers of Bru- 
 tus at the first battle of Philippi. It was Antonius, 
 therefore, who was regarded hy the Roman world 
 as the real victor and as the dominant personality of 
 the Triumvirate, and Octavian only held the second 
 place in popular estimation. Moreover, his con- 
 tinued ill-health flattered the hopes of his enemies 
 that he would not live long to trouble them. The 
 anxieties and privations of the recent campaign had 
 not failed to aggravate his malady, and, on reaching 
 Brundisium, his enfeebled constitution utterly broke 
 down. He lay for some weeks between life and 
 death, and a report that he had actually succumbed 
 was widely believed. When he recovered, there- 
 fore, and made his way to Rome, he soon found 
 himself confronted by a most formidable cabal. 
 
 So far as is known, no opposition had been offered 
 by the Republican admirals, Murcus and Ahenobar- 
 bus, to the return of Octavian and his legions across 
 the Adriatic. They still kept the seas and attracted 
 to themselves the broken remnants of the lost cause, 
 
36 B.C.I The Perusian War 97 
 
 but they allowed Octavian an unmolested passage — 
 another striking proof of their incapacity to turn to 
 practical advantage their naval supremacy. Octa- 
 vian had first to deal with Lepidus, whose consul- 
 ship had now expired. This clumsy soldier and still 
 clumsier intriguer, who had owed his partnership in 
 the Triumvirate not to his own abilities but to the 
 accident that he had had so many legions under his 
 command, was practically helpless in the absence 
 of his patron and protector, Antonius ; and when 
 Octavian offered him the African provinces, in lieu 
 of Galha Narbonensis and the two Spains, Lepidus 
 accepted without demur this curtailment of his dig- 
 nities, Octavian had then to satisfy the time-expired 
 troops. The soldiers demanded the Italian cities 
 which had been selected for them before the open- 
 ing of the campaign ; the cities marked out for ruin 
 claimed either that the whole of Italy should bear 
 the burden, or that they should receive full com- 
 pensation. Their inhabitants flocked in crowds to 
 Rome to appeal to the sympathies of the Roman 
 people and to the mercy of the young Triumvir. 
 The former was easily won ; the latter was hope- 
 less. Octavian dared not offend or disappoint the 
 legionaries. If they declared against him his fall 
 from power was certain to be even more rapid than 
 had been his rise, and as there was no public money 
 wherewith to compensate the victims, he was bound 
 to carry through this piece of brutal injustice, even 
 though he deplored Its necessity. The sympathies 
 of the Roman crowd were cheap and ineffectual. 
 
 They dreaded the professional soldiers who were 
 7 
 
98 Augustus CcBsar [41 b.c- 
 
 now the real arbiters of the Roman State. The 
 shrewder among them could see that by settHng 
 colonies of old soldiers in the Italian peninsula 
 their rulers were practically creating a veteran re- 
 serve, upon which they might draw at any moment 
 when they required an army. The cause of the Ital- 
 ian cities, therefore, was warmly espoused by all who 
 had any quarrel with the Triumvirs and by all the 
 supporters of the old regime. 
 
 Octavian, however, had as yet but few staunch 
 friends. The older senators, who had held office 
 under Julius and the Republic, preferred to attach 
 themselves to the faction of Antonius, who seemed 
 so much the stronger of the two. These now found 
 their leader in Lucius Antonius, a brother of the 
 Triumvir, who, with Servilius Isauricus, was Consul 
 for the year 41. Fulvia, the wife of Marcus Anton- 
 ius, was also in Rome, actively engaged in watch- 
 ing the interests of her husband, and Manius, his 
 procurator, was zealously devoted to his absent 
 chief. Their first object was to delay the settlement 
 of the military colonies until Antonius should return 
 home, in order that Octavian might not reap all the 
 credit for giving the veterans their reward. Then, 
 when the soldiers pressed for immediate settlement, 
 they induced Octavian to allow the colony leaders 
 of Antonius's legionaries to be chosen from An- 
 tonius's own friends, and Fulvia and her children 
 visited the camps, beseeching the soldiers not to 
 forget the benefits which they owed to their old 
 commander. The Italian cities were ruthlessly de- 
 spoiled. Not alone in the south of Italy, but also 
 
36 B.C.] The Perusian War 99 
 
 in the Transpadane region, the rural proprietors 
 were ejected from their farms without the sHght- 
 est compensation, and to the seething discontent 
 aroused by this measure of confiscation there was 
 soon added a fresh source of trouble and danger. 
 Rome and Italy were threatened with famine. Sex- 
 tus Pompeius, still master of Sicily, had received 
 numerous contingents of ships and men from the rem- 
 nants of the Republican army and navy. He had 
 been joined by Murcus with two legions, five hundred 
 archers, and eighty ships, and, in full command of the 
 sea, he was now in a position to prevent any Spanish 
 or African grain ships from entering the Tiber. His 
 galleys ravaged the neighbouring shore of Italy, and 
 it was absolutely necessary for Octavian to undertake 
 a campaign against him. But his hands were tied. 
 Disturbances had broken out in all his provinces. 
 He had been obliged to detach his lieutenant, Salvi- 
 dienus, with six legions to march towards Spain, but 
 these had found the passes of the Alps blocked 
 against them by Asinius Pollio. And at this junc- 
 ture Lucius, the Consul, was marshalling his forces, 
 bent on provoking another civil war. 
 
 The events of the next few months, which culmi- 
 nated in the siege and surrender of Perusia, form 
 one of the most obscure passages in the period 
 with which we are dealing. We know little of the 
 character of Lucius Antonius and of the real motives 
 which induced him to measure his strength against 
 that of Octavian. Appian, indeed, tells us that he 
 was a Republican at heart, and was ill affected to- 
 wards the Triumvirate, which, as he saw, was not 
 L.oFC. 
 
loo Atizustus CcBsar 
 
 ^ 
 
 [41 B.C.- 
 
 likely to come to an end when its appointed term of 
 five years ran out. As Consul he had raised six 
 legions of infantry, and counted upon obtaining 
 recruits in plenty from the dispossessed Italians. 
 Yet the fact that he was working hand in glove with 
 Fulvia and Manius warrants the suspicion that his 
 protestations of regard for the Republic were only a 
 bhnd. The truth was, that while Fulvia was anxious 
 at any cost to rescue her husband from the clutches 
 of Cleopatra, Lucius and Manius saw that Marcus 
 Antonius was steadily losing his pre-eminence in 
 the Triumvirate by lingering in the luxurious repose 
 of the Egyptian capital. They tried, therefore, to 
 force his hand and compel his return before Octa- 
 vian should succeed in undermining his influence 
 with the Antonian veterans in Italy. Octavian de- 
 clared that he had no such object in view; that he 
 was on the best of terms with his absent colleague, 
 and that the aim of Lucius was to destroy the Tri- 
 umvirate. The veterans, who were the real mas- 
 ters of the situation, sought to take the matter into 
 their own hands. Consequently, a number of Oc- 
 tavian and Antonian officers met in consultation 
 and drew up the terms of a compromise, which they 
 endeavored to impose upon the rival leaders. They 
 insisted that the troops of both should share equally 
 in the division of any spoils which remained to be 
 distributed ; that two of Antonius's legions should 
 serve with Octavian in the campaign against Sextus ; 
 that Salvidienus should be allowed a free passage 
 across the Alps, and that Lucius should dismiss his 
 body-guard and administer his office fearlessly. The 
 
36 B.C.] The Perusian War loi 
 
 compromise was well meant, but entirely ineffectual. 
 Lucius retired to Prseneste, where Fulvia, raging 
 with jealousy and hate, worked her hardest to kindle 
 the flame of war. Then the armies made a last 
 attempt to bring about an understanding, and a con- 
 ference was arranged to take place at Gabii, midway 
 between Rome and Praeneste. But a chance en- 
 counter ensued between some scouts of Lucius and 
 a party of horsemen belonging to Octavian, and 
 Lucius, fearing treachery, broke off negotiations. 
 War was immediately declared. 
 
 The rebellion assumed the most alarming di- 
 mensions. Octavian had only four legions under 
 arms in Italy. One of these he promptly despatched 
 to Brundisium to garrison the port in case Mar- 
 cus Antonius should appear on the scene, and to 
 strengthen it against the attacks of Domitius Ahen- 
 obarbus, who was again patrolling the Adriatic with 
 seventy ships. He hurriedly recalled Salvidienus 
 and his six legions from their march towards Spain, 
 and, leaving Lepidus in command of Rome with 
 two legions, set himself once more to collect re- 
 inforcements from his faithful veterans. His ad- 
 versaries, however, threatened him from all sides. 
 Sextus, with his fleet, ravaged the coast, though he 
 did not attempt a serious landing ; Lucius had the 
 active sympathies of the Italian population and 
 what remained of the Optimates in Rome ; and the 
 chief supporters of Marcus Antonius, PoUio, Ven- 
 tidius, and Plancus, moved down from the north, 
 with their respective contingents, at the heels of Sal- 
 vidienus. The campaign opened with a success for 
 
I02 Augustus Ccesar [41 b.c- 
 
 the Antonian faction. Lucius suddenly appeared 
 before Rome, and three of his cohorts entered the 
 city clandestinely by night. Lepidus fled to the 
 camp of Octavian, and Lucius became, for the mo- 
 ment, master of the capital. Summoning the peo- 
 ple together, he delivered a harangue, in which he 
 declared that he would punish Octavian and Lep- 
 idus for their lawless rule, and promised that his 
 brother Marcus would resign his position in the 
 Triumvirate, accept the consulship, and restore the 
 old constitution. The people saluted him '* imper- 
 ator " on the spot, and, says Appian, immediately 
 leaped to the conclusion that the unpopular gov- 
 ernment of the Triumvirs was at an end. But the 
 able strategy of Agrippa, Octavian's right-hand 
 man, speedily checkmated them. The forces of 
 both sides were split up into scattered detach- 
 ments, seeking to effect a junction. Salvidienus 
 was marching south from Gaul to join Octavian, 
 closely followed by the Antonians, and Lucius 
 threw himself across his path to prevent his further 
 progress. Agrippa thereupon seized Sutrium on 
 the Cassian Way, in the rear of Lucius, and com- 
 pelled him to draw aside. Agrippa and Salvidienus 
 united their forces, while Lucius moved off to join 
 Pollio and Ventidius. But the Antonian generals 
 either marched too slowly or were too far distant, 
 and Lucius retired to Perusia, near Lake Thras- 
 imene, which he strongly fortified against attack. 
 In the meantime, Octavian pushed north, and suc- 
 ceeded in barring the further advance of Lucius's 
 reinforcements. Pollio was driven to take refuge 
 
COIN OF M. ANTOMIUS AND OCTAVIA. 
 
 COIN OF SEXTUS POMPEIUS. 
 
36 B.C.] The Perusian War 103 
 
 in Ravenna, Ventidius in Ariminium, and Plancus, 
 who had destroyed one of Octavian's legions on the 
 march, was brought to a standstill at Spoletium in 
 Umbria. Octavian stationed containing forces in 
 front of each of these three towns, and then re- 
 turned with his main army to Perusia, where he 
 closely invested the imprisoned garrison. 
 
 The siege lasted for some weeks. Lucius made 
 desperate efforts to cut his way out, but was beaten 
 back every time, and a half-hearted attempt on the 
 part of Ventidius and Plancus to press through to 
 his relief was checked by Agrippa and Salvidienus. 
 Famine then began to make itself felt in Perusia, 
 and Lucius came to the barbarous resolution of 
 starving all the slaves within the town. They were 
 not allowed to leave lest the enemy should learn 
 the desperate straits to which he was reduced, and 
 the miserable creatures, after a vain endeavour to 
 prolong their wretched existence by eating grass 
 and green leaves, perished in hundreds in the 
 streets. At length, after making a final unsuccess- 
 ful sortie, Lucius resolved upon surrender, and sent 
 envoys to Octavian to ask for terms. Octavian re- 
 plied that he would grant an amnesty to the vet- 
 erans of his colleague, Marcus Antonius, but that 
 all the rest must surrender at discretion. Lucius 
 then boldly undertook to go in person as envoy to 
 the victor's camp, where he was received with every 
 mark of consideration. An unconditional surren- 
 der was agreed upon, but Octavian gave a free 
 pardon to every soldier in the garrison, and en- 
 rolled them all in his own legions. The city, which 
 
104- Attgustits Ccesar [4t b,c.- 
 
 he had intended to turn over to his troops for 
 plunder, was set on fire by one of its citizens and 
 burnt to the ground. 
 
 At a later time a story was current that, though 
 Octavian spared Lucius and his troops, he caused 
 three hundred of the leading men of Perusia to be 
 slaughtered as a sacrifice to the shade of Julius, 
 upon an altar erected for the purpose, on the anni- 
 versary of Caesar's murder. But Suetonius and 
 Dion Cassius, while repeating the tale, are careful 
 to refrain from vouching for its accuracy. Modern 
 historians have been practically unanimous in re- 
 jecting it. The idea of human sacrifice was repug- 
 nant to the Roman mind, and it is impossible to 
 believe that Octavian would have given his sanc- 
 tion to so senseless an act. He had never hesitated 
 to remove enemies from his path when it had suited 
 his policy ; he had consented to the proscription ; 
 and he had shewn himself more implacable than 
 Antonius in dealing with the prisoners who fell 
 into his hands at Philippi. But the wanton mur- 
 der of three hundred dignitaries of a provincial 
 town would have been a blundering piece of fero- 
 city which, so far from benefiting him, must have 
 aroused against him a feeHng of universal odium. 
 Probably the story grew out of the fact that 
 Octavian did put to death certain of his personal 
 enemies, whom he found in Perusia. Appian tells 
 us the names of three, and adds that there were 
 several others. And if their execution happened to 
 take place, either by accident or design, on the Ides 
 of March, the malignity of his enemies would nat- 
 
36 B.C.I The Perusian War 105 
 
 urally invent the detail that they were sacrificed at 
 an altar, and would exaggerate the number of the 
 slain. 
 
 With the surrender of Perusia the rebellion im- 
 mediately collapsed, although the Antonian generals 
 still commanded between them no fewer than thir- 
 teen legions and six thousand horse. Pollio allowed 
 himself to be superseded in Cisalpine Gaul and took 
 refuge with Domitius Ahenobarbus. Plancus aban- 
 doned his army and fled with Fulvia to Greece. 
 Tiberius Claudius Nero, who had been the prime 
 mover of the rising in Campania, joined Sextus 
 Pompeius in Sicily, taking with him his wife, Livia, 
 and his infant son, Tiberius. Asinius Pollio and 
 Ventidius kept a few troops together and collected 
 stores on the Adriatic coast in readiness for An- 
 tonius's return, but they were left unmolested by 
 Octavian and Agrippa, who hurried north to Gaul 
 to secure the six Antonian legions stationed there 
 under the command of Calenus. The latter died 
 before Octavian arrived, but his son, Fufius, handed 
 them over without even a shew of resistance. Substi- 
 tuting lieutenants whom he could trust for the An- 
 tonians who officered these legions, Octavian re- 
 turned to Rome, and prepared for the war which 
 Antonius was now threatening. 
 
 Antonius did not thank his friends for the way in 
 which they had championed his interests. He seems 
 to have given his supporters no hint of his inten- 
 tions, and his lieutenants in Italy did not know what 
 their chief desired. When his veterans sent dele- 
 gates to him in Egypt, urging his immediate return, 
 
io6 Augustus CcEsar [41 b.c- 
 
 he detained them in Alexandria and vouchsafed no 
 definite answer. Hence the otherwise inexplicable 
 hesitation which marked the strategy of Ventidius, 
 Pollio, and Plancus throughout the Perusian cam- 
 paign, and hence, too, the absolute inactivity of 
 Calenus in Gaul. It may be that Antonius con- 
 sidered his friends strong enough to crush Octavian 
 without his help, and that he hoped to enjoy the 
 profits of their exertions without sharing them him- 
 self. But it is even more probable that he was con- 
 tent to let matters drift. He did not desire a rupture 
 with Octavian, or, at least, he did not want it then. 
 Infatuated with Cleopatra, abandoning himself to 
 the pleasures and excesses of the moment, he tar- 
 ried slothfully in Egypt throughout the whole sum- 
 mer and winter and made no sign. His friends had 
 stumbled into the quicksands ; he left them to ex- 
 tricate themselves as best they could. Nor was it 
 until the spring of the following year that he roused 
 himself to fight for the position which was steadily 
 slipping away from his grasp. He had gathered an 
 army to repel an invasion of the Parthians into 
 Syria, and had concentrated his forces at Tyre, when 
 he decided that the moment had come to match his 
 strength against that of Octavian. Leaving Ven- 
 tidius — who had by this time rejoined him — to 
 deal with the Parthians, he sailed with two hundred 
 ships, furnished by Rhodes and Cyprus, to Athens, 
 where he met Fulvia and Plancus, and prepared to 
 invade Italy. Thus Octavian had again to confront 
 a powerful alHance, for Antonius had come to terms 
 with Domitius Ahenobarbus and Sextus Pompeius, 
 
36 B.C.] Renewal of Triumvirate 107 
 
 the latter of whom promised to invade southern 
 Italy. We do not know what communications 
 passed between the two Triumvirs who now seemed 
 bent upon fighting out their quarrel. Octavian, 
 down to the outbreak of the Perusian War, had re- 
 peatedly declared that he was only carrying out the 
 policy to which Antonius had given his sanction, 
 and that there was a perfect understanding between 
 them. But when Lucius and Fulvia appealed to 
 arms a rupture was inevitable, and when Octavian 
 crushed the Antonian faction he took care to trans- 
 fer as many of the Antonian legions as he could to 
 his own standard. His march north to Gaul — which 
 was Antonius's own province — and his dismissal 
 of the Antonian officers from the legions of Calenus 
 amounted to an open declaration of war, which An- 
 tonius could not overlook unless he was prepared to 
 surrender his place in the Triumvirate. Antonius, 
 therefore, landed part of his army near Brundisium 
 and laid siege to the garrison, while Sextus Pom- 
 peius appeared before Thurii and Consentia. 
 
 But though the Triumvirs were hastening to settle 
 their differences by the sword, their soldiers shrank 
 from the conflict. The veteran legions of the rival 
 commanders, old comrades-in-arms in the wars of 
 Julius and the campaign of Philippi, insisted that their 
 generals should come to terms. They found the requi- 
 site intermediary in the person of Cocceius Nerva, a 
 mutual friend of both Octavian and Antonius ; and 
 an armistice was arranged pending the conclusion of 
 a definite treaty. Antonius ordered Sextus Pom- 
 peius to quit Italy and retire to Sicily, and dismissed 
 
io8 Aicgushts CcEsar [4i b.c- 
 
 Domitius Ahenobarbus with the governorship of 
 Bithynia ; while the army of Octavian appointed a 
 committee of officers to negotiate a peace. Cocceius 
 was added to their number as one acceptable to both 
 sides ; Pollio was given a place in their councils as 
 the representative of Antonius, and Maecenas as the 
 representative of Octavian. They agreed that there 
 should be amnesty for the past and friendship for the 
 future, and, as the implacable Fulvia had just died 
 at Sicyon and Octavian's sister had recently lost her 
 husband, Marcellus, they determined that Antonius 
 should marry Octavia and thus strengthen the ties 
 of alliance. The rivals accepted with a good grace 
 the terms thus imposed upon them by their troops, 
 and their plenipotentiaries drew up the Treaty of 
 Brundisium, whereby a fresh partition of the whole 
 Roman world was made. It was now decided that the 
 boundary line should be fixed at Scodra (the mod- 
 ern Scutari ) in Illyria, that all provinces and islands 
 east of that line should belong to Antonius and that 
 all to the west should acknowledge the supremacy 
 and be under the administration of Octavian. Lepi- 
 dus, who at the conclusion of the Perusian war had 
 been sent by Octavian to Africa with six untrust- 
 worthy legions, was again given no voice in this re- 
 distribution of power, but was allowed to retain the 
 provinces assigned to him by Octavian. It was fur- 
 ther agreed that both Octavian and Antonius should 
 raise recruits in Italy in equal numbers, that Oc- 
 tavian should prosecute the war against Sextus 
 Pompeius, unless they came to some arrangement, 
 and that Antonius should resume his campaign 
 
36 B.C.] Renewal of Triumvirate 109 
 
 against the Parthians. Such were the terms of the 
 instrument known as the Treaty of Brundisium. As 
 a further proof of good will, Antonius put to death 
 his procurator Manius, who had served his master 
 with too indiscreet a zeal, and disclosed to his col- 
 league the meditated treachery of his lieutenant, 
 Salvidienus, who had purposed to desert to An- 
 tonius with the legions under his command. The 
 two masters of the State then repaired to Rome, 
 where they celebrated with unusual pomp the ill- 
 starred union of Octavia with Antonius. 
 
 They had still, however, to deal with Sextus Pom- 
 peius, who, to revenge himself for the ignominious 
 manner in which Antonius had broken off relations 
 with him, now blockaded the whole western coast of 
 Italy and reduced Rome to a state of famine. An- 
 tonius pressed upon his colleague the advisability 
 of peace, but Octavian, exasperated by the loss of 
 Sardinia, which Menodorus, the chief admiral of 
 Pompeius, had again recaptured, refused to treat. 
 He insisted upon war, and, to raise the funds requi- 
 site for the building of a fleet, an edict was published 
 levying a poll tax upon all owners of slaves as well 
 as a new legacy duty. A tumult followed in Rome, 
 during which Octavian was stoned in endeavouring 
 to address the people, but his soldiers easily quelled 
 the rising. Yet the famine grew so serious that an 
 accommodation with Sextus became a matter of 
 urgent necessity. Octavian was obliged to yield. 
 He had, in the previous year, divorced Clodia, the 
 daughter of Fulvia, and married Scribonia, the sis- 
 ter of Libo, father-in-law of Sextus Pompeius, and 
 
no Augtistus Ccssar [41 B.C.- 
 
 it was through Libo that negotiations were now 
 opened. Sextus's relatives in Rome, acting on the 
 suggestion of the Triumvirs, wrote offering him a 
 safe-conduct, and his mother, Mucia, was also in- 
 duced to intercede with her son. Eventually Sex- 
 tus agreed to meet his rivals, and a conference was 
 held at Misenum. Two platforms were erected on 
 piles at some little distance from the shore. Oc- 
 tavian and Antonius occupied the one, Sextus and 
 Libo the other, and negotiations were carried on 
 across the water which flowed between. Sextus, at 
 the first meeting, boldly demanded a place in the 
 Triumvirate in the room of Lepidus and abruptly 
 cut short the interview when this was refused him. 
 The famine was so severe and Octavian and An- 
 tonius were so much at the mercy of the man who 
 held the command of the sea that they were com- 
 pelled to offer generous terms. In the end the three 
 principals renewed their conference upon the mole 
 of Puteoli and there composed their differences. 
 They agreed that war should immediately cease, 
 that the blockade of Italy should be raised, and that 
 Sextus should send to Rome the grain which had 
 previously been exacted as tribute from the islands 
 of which he now was master. He also undertook 
 to clear the sea of pirates and no longer afford 
 a refuge to fugitive slaves. In return for these 
 concessions Octavian and Antonius promised to 
 acknowledge the dominion of Sextus over Sicily, 
 Corsica, and Sardinia, to concede Achaia and pay an 
 indemnity of fifteen million drachmae, to admit his 
 soldiers to a share of all gratuities out of the public 
 
36 B.C.] Rejiewal of Triumvirate 1 1 1 
 
 funds, to allow him to canvass for the consulship in 
 his absence, and to grant full amnesty to all exiles, 
 except those who had been formally condemned to 
 death for participation in the murder of Julius. The 
 signing of the treaty was celebrated by a banquet on 
 board the magnificent flagship of Sextus, during the 
 course of which the treacherous Menas suggested to 
 his chief that he should slip his moorings and carry 
 off his rivals. '* Would that Menas had done this 
 without my knowledge !" was the characteristic re- 
 ply. " False swearing may become a Menas but not 
 a Pompeius." At the banquet the infant son of Oc- 
 tavia by her first husband, Marcellus, was betrothed 
 to the daughter of Sextus, and Octavian and An- 
 tonius repaired to Rome while Sextus returned to 
 Sicily. Throughout their journey to the capital and 
 in Rome itself the Triumvirs were greeted with rapt- 
 urous enthusiasm. The whole peninsula rejoiced at 
 the prospect of peace, and at its happy deliverance 
 from intestine war. The people thought that at 
 last they had reached the end of their troubles and 
 would now be delivered from the conscription of 
 their sons, from the arrogance of the soldiery, from 
 the defection of their slaves, the pillage of their fields, 
 the ruin of agriculture, and above all from the fam- 
 ine caused by the blockade of the Italian ports. 
 Once more a cruel disillusionment awaited them. It 
 was speedily found that the Treaty of Misenum was 
 not worth the paper on which it had been written. 
 
 Octavian and Antonius passed a few weeks in 
 Rome in outward amity. They created new Sen- 
 ators almost daily from the ranks of their own 
 
112 Augustus CcEsar [41b.c.- 
 
 partisans, and sent written orders to the people, 
 when they met in their comitia, instructing them 
 how to vote. And so completely were they masters 
 of Rome that when Antonius quitted the city he car- 
 ried with him a senatus consultum, ratifying before- 
 hand ,all the acts which he might commit until his 
 return. Armed with this authority, he despatched 
 his lieutenants throughout the East to rule in his 
 name and interest, and then spent the winter at 
 Athens in the company of Octavia, attending the 
 festivals of the Greeks and listening to the lectures 
 of the philosophers. He exchanged his military 
 cloak for the square-cut pallium and Attic shoe, and 
 led the life of a private citizen with a taste for philo- 
 sophy and culture — a startling contrast from the 
 Antonius who a twelvemonth before had been riot- 
 ing in the debauchery of the court of Cleopatra. 
 Then, in the following spring, he pushed forward 
 his preparations for the Parthian war. Meanwhile, 
 Octavian had visited the Gallic provinces and, on 
 coming back to Rome, had found that trouble was 
 once more brewing with Sextus Pompeius. The 
 stipulations of the Treaty of Misenum had not been 
 honourably kept on either side. Sextus complained 
 that Achaia had not been handed over to him, and 
 let loose his roving ruffians to infest the seas. The 
 corn-ships again failed to arrive ; Rome was threat- 
 ened with another famine. Octavian had only con- 
 sented to the Treaty of Misenum under the pressure 
 of necessity, and had doubtless intended to take the 
 earliest opportunity of crushing this formidable rival 
 who lay upon his flank. He began to intrigue with 
 
36 B.C.] Reneiual of Triumvirate 
 
 Menas, the Pompeian admiral, who was now gover- 
 nor of Corsica and Sardinia, brought down his war- 
 ships from Ravenna, and collected an army at 
 Brundisium and Puteoli. He also requested Anto- 
 nius to come to his aid. But Antonius disapproved 
 of the war. It mattered nothing to him that Sextus 
 was a thorn in the side of Octavian — Sextus did 
 not menace his half of the Roman world. Conse- 
 quently, he wrote to his colleague, advising him not 
 to violate the treaty, and threatened Menas with 
 punishment as his own fugitive slave. But this dis- 
 couragement did not deter Octavian from his pur- 
 pose. Menas deserted to his standard, bringing with 
 him three legions and a powerful squadron, and 
 handed over Sardinia and Corsica to one of Octa- 
 vian's lieutenants. Octavian welcomed him with 
 great cordiality, and left him in command of the 
 ships he had brought with him, subject only to the 
 general control of his admiral, Calvisius. Collecting 
 his fleet into two squadrons, he himself sailed for 
 Sicily from Tarentum, while Calvisius and Menas 
 sailed from the ports of Etruria. Sextus awaited in 
 person the attack of Octavian at Messana, and sent 
 Menecrates to confront Calvisius and Menas. The 
 squadrons of the latter met near Cumse, and a stub- 
 born engagement ensued, in which the Pompeian 
 fleet gained a signal victory. But its admiral, Mene- 
 crates, was slain, and the second in command, instead 
 of pressing home his advantage, sailed back to Sicily. 
 Octavian, who had been waiting for Calvisius to 
 join him before attacking Sextus, advanced imme- 
 diately through the straits when he heard of the 
 
TI4 Augustus Ccesar [41B.C.- 
 
 disaster at Cumae. Sextus darted out of the harbour 
 at Messana to take him in rear, and forced a general 
 action, compelling the Octavians to take up a posi- 
 tion along the coast, where they were repeatedly 
 charged by the enemy, and many of their vessels 
 driven ashore. It was a day of disaster for Octavian, 
 and on the morrow a storm completed the havoc ; 
 but with his usual supineness, Sextus failed to follow 
 up the blow. Well satisfied with having driven off 
 his antagonist, he returned to Syracuse in triumph, 
 where he proclaimed himself the favourite son of 
 Neptune, bedecked himself in a mantle of sea-green, 
 and again waited for his enemy. 
 
 Octavian's double defeat had reduced his squad- 
 rons to a miserable plight. Less than half his ships 
 had survived, and most of these were badly damaged. 
 Yet, thanks to the incapacity of Sextus, he was 
 enabled to convoy his crippled vessels in safety to 
 the port of Vibo. As ever, he rose superior to the 
 adversity which threatened to overwhelm him. The 
 people, hard pressed by famine, refused to pay their 
 taxes, and clamoured for peace with the ruler of the 
 sea. Octavian withstood their entreaties, and clung 
 stoutly to his policy. He sent his trusty counsellor, 
 Maecenas, to Antonius, to persuade him to lend him 
 the ships of which he stood in need, resolved that if 
 the mission failed, he would embark his legions upon 
 transports and carry the war across into Sicily. But 
 he was saved from the necessity of this dangerous ex- 
 pedient by the return of Maecenas, who had induced 
 Antonius to promise his aid, and by the welcome 
 news that his able lieutenant, Agrippa, had gained 
 
36 B.C.] Renewal of Triumvirate \ \ 5 
 
 a splendid victory in Aquitania over the Iberians, 
 quelled the disturbances in that turbulent region,' 
 and was ready to come south with his army. Oc' 
 tavian rewarded Agrippa with the consulship for the 
 following year, and employed his brilliant talents in 
 a direction which shewed that he had at last grasped 
 the truth that sea-power can only be overcome by 
 sea-power. - The elephant cannot fight the whale." 
 To conquer Sextus he needed not legions, but ships. 
 He set himself, therefore, to build a navy and con- 
 struct a powerful naval arsenal. The genius of 
 Agrippa speedily evolved a scheme. He saw that 
 the first thing needful was a convenient base from 
 which a bold offensive might be taken against Sicily. 
 His choice fell upon one of the recesses of the Bay 
 of Naples, where lay two land-locked pools between 
 Puteoli and the promontory of Misenum. The Lu- 
 crine Lake, as one of these was called, was only 
 separated from the sea by a narrow belt of shingle, 
 while Lake Avernus was a mile inland. Agrippa 
 connected the two sheets of water with a canal, built 
 a wall of solid masonry to protect the outer side of 
 the Lucrine Lake, and dug a narrow channel to give 
 access to the sea. A powerful mole and breakwater 
 completed the work, to which was given the name of 
 the Julian Haven, and within this sheltered position 
 Octavian was able to build the ships of which he 
 stood in need, practise his crews, and lay the firm 
 foundations of naval power. 
 
 In, the spring of ij Antonius had set sail from 
 Athens with 300 ships in fulfilment of his promise of 
 assistance, but by this time Octavian had resolved 
 
ii6 AugMsttts Ccesar [41-36 B.C. 
 
 not to try conclusions with Sextus until his own 
 fleet was ready. Instead of welcoming Antonius, 
 therefore, he made continued excuses for delay, and 
 the relations between them became strained. Anto- 
 nius found the expense of maintaining so many war 
 vessels exceedingly burdensome, but, as he needed 
 soldiers and was anxious to barter some of his ships 
 for a part of Octavian's army, he sent his wife, 
 Octavia, to Rome to use her influence with her 
 brother. A meeting was arranged near Tarentum, 
 at which the rival leaders once more temporarily 
 composed their differences, and the}^ parted — after 
 renewing the Triumvirate for another term of five 
 years — never to meet again until they encountered 
 one another in desperate conflict off the coast of 
 Actium. Antonius gave his colleague 120 ships in 
 exchange for 20,000 Italian legionaries for the Par- 
 thian war. Octavia presented her brother with 
 ten phaseli with triple banks of oars, which she had 
 begged as a favour from her husband, and Octavian, 
 not to be outdone in generosity, gave her in return 
 a body-guard of 1000 picked troops to be selected 
 by Antonius, 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 LAST CAMPAIGN AGAINST SEXTUS AND DEPOSITION 
 OF LEPIDUS 
 
 36 B.C. 
 
 NOT until the midsummer of B.C. 36 were Octa- 
 vian's naval preparations complete. Agrippa 
 had been his organiser of victory ; to him 
 was now entrusted the duty of directing the power- 
 ful fighting machine which he had put together. 
 Octavian had prevailed upon Lepidus to co-operate 
 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 north-eastern 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. 
 
 117 
 
ii8 Augustus Ccesar [36 B.C. 
 
 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, en- 
 joyed his customary good fortune. Two days after 
 the Octavian fleets had quitted harbour a violent 
 storm got up from the south. Taurus immediately 
 put back into Tarentum and placed his squadron 
 out of action, while the rear-guard of the main fleet, 
 under Appius, was caught while doubling the pro- 
 montory 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 south- 
 west 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 war-ships, 
 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 ap- 
 pointed destination. He, too, lost several of his 
 store ships, but effected a landing near Lilybaeum 
 with twelve legions and blockaded Plennius. 
 
 Octavian was not disheartened even by this un- 
 looked-for disaster. Owing to the lateness of the 
 
36 B.C.] Last Campaign against Sextus 119 
 
 season he would have preferred to postpone the ex- 
 pedition 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 apprehen- 
 sions and clamours 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 harbour of Vibo. Sextus, 
 as usual, threw away his golden opportunities. Plum- 
 ing 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 reconnoitre Octavian's dockyards, and Menas, after 
 cleverly cutting out a number of Octavian's ships 
 to shew 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 mer- 
 chant ships from Africa to reinforce Lepidus were 
 destroyed by Papias, one of Sextus's captains. Oc- 
 tavian and Agrippa manoeuvred in order to obtain a 
 landing in the north-eastern corner of Sicily. They 
 seized Strongyle, one of the five ^olian 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 com- 
 mand 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 
 
I20 Augustus CcEsar [36 B.C. 
 
 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 Tauromen- 
 ium, expecting that little or no opposition would be 
 offered him. But Sextus had divined Octavian's in- 
 tentions. On the evening of his engagement with 
 Agrippa he had slipped away unobserved to Mes- 
 sana with most of his ships, leaving only a few ves- 
 sels at Mylae to delude Agrippa into the belief that 
 the main fleet still lay in that harbour. 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 cav- 
 alry and infantry were fast approaching. The cav- 
 alry came up before Octavian's troops had time to 
 entrench their camp, and wrought considerable exe- 
 cution, and a simultaneous attack by the fleet and 
 the infantry would probably have resulted in his en- 
 tire destruction. His men, however, completed their 
 camp during the night and, on the following morn- 
 ing, Octavian placed all the infantry in charge of 
 Cornificius and himself went on shipboard to do bat- 
 tle 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 man- 
 aged to reach the Italian coast in safety, only a sin- 
 gle armour bearer was left to escort the Triumvir to 
 
36 B.C.] Last Campaign against Sexttcs 121 
 
 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 Cornifi- 
 cius. 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 tor- 
 tured by the heat and want of water, he fell in with 
 Laronius and the three legions which Agrippa had 
 despatched 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 5000 
 light-armed troops, while the main fleet lay at an- 
 chor in the bay. Sextus held the defiles which led 
 to the north-eastern corner of the island and the 
 coast towns, but soon afterwards abandoned Mylae 
 and concentrated his forces at Pelorus and Mes- 
 sana. Meanwhile Lepidus, after slowly traversing 
 the island from Lilybaeum, was now within touch of 
 his colleague, and the fleet of Taurus was busy rav- 
 aging 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 
 
122 Augushts CcBsar [36 B.C. 
 
 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 or- 
 dinary naval tactics of the time were rendered use- 
 less by this device and the two squadrons closed and 
 fought in one confused mass. Victory at length in- 
 clined 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 with- 
 out 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 stand- 
 ard all those who were driven to fly from the ven- 
 geance of the conquering Triumvirs. Sextus was 
 little better than a freebooter, a corsair chief, whose 
 hand was against every man. Cicero and the Re- 
 publican leaders after the murder of Julius had 
 
36 B.C.] Last Campaign against Sextus 123 
 
 shunned him as one who had ceased to be a true 
 Roman. He had been the associate and patron of 
 pirates in CiHcia ; he had lived as a guerilla leader 
 in Spain. His admirals were ex-slaves and freed- 
 men 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 at- 
 tached to the command of the sea. Italy could be 
 starved. Sextus recognised this obvious truth and 
 acted upon it. While the other aspirants for power 
 were quarrelling among themselves and collecting 
 legions, he gathered ships and gained the undis- 
 puted 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 favoured the superior skill 
 of his sailors ; repeatedly the shattered fleets of Oc- 
 tavian 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 Mes- 
 sana the success of Octavian's Sicilian campaign was 
 assured. Yet before it closed it was destined to 
 take yet another entirely unexpected turn. Soon af- 
 ter Sextus quitted the island, his Heutenant, Plen- 
 nius, entered Messana unopposed with eight legions. 
 The reduction of this strongly fortified town was as- 
 signed to Agrippa and Lepidus jointly, while Oc- 
 tavian remained in camp at Naulochus. Plennius 
 
124 Augustus C CBS ar [36 B.C. 
 
 was in no mood to fight to the death for a chief 
 who had forsaken him and he intrigued with Lepi- 
 dus, 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 Lepi- 
 dus were admitted into the city and Plennius and 
 his troops immediately ranged themselves under 
 Lepidus's 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 de- 
 termined to hold what he had won. Octavian, hast- 
 ening up from Naulochus to meet this unforeseen 
 danger, had a stormy interview with his colleague 
 and they parted in hot anger and prepared for bat- 
 tle. 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 incap- 
 able a commander, and Octavian resolved upon the 
 daring expedient of riding up with a body of horse- 
 men, 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 breast- 
 plate. But though he was driven from the camp, 
 detachment after detachment of the Lepidan army 
 transferred their standards to his side, and event- 
 ually Lepidus was left absolutely alone. Throwing 
 
36 B.C.] Deposition of Lepidus 125 
 
 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 ignominious end of Lepidus's in- 
 sane ambition. According to Suetonius, he was 
 first confined to a residence at Circeii and then, 
 says Dion Cassius, was recalled to Rome in order 
 that his humilation might be the more conspicuous. 
 His character need not detain us. Julius had ap- 
 pointed him Master of the Horse during his first 
 dictatorship, and Julius, as a rule, shewed 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 at- 
 tained 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 abil- 
 ity 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 pre- 
 cipitated 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 war-ships sailed under his flag. 
 Africa and Sicily were added to his command, and 
 
126 Atigtistus Ccesar [36 B.C. 
 
 from the latter alone he wrung a tribute of 1600 
 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, de- 
 manding 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 re- 
 turned to Rome triumphant. There is no reason to 
 doubt the sincerity of the welcome which was ac- 
 corded 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 through- 
 out the years that Sextus had been master of Sicily, 
 and the ill-success which had attended Octavian's 
 previous campaigns had created wide-spread depres- 
 sion 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 counter- 
 marched incessantly throughout its length and 
 breadth, and from the bands of runaway slaves who 
 had taken advantage of the paralysis of the admin- 
 istrative 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 
 
36 B.C.I Deposition of Lepidus 1 2 7 
 
 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 con- 
 queror — he was st'ill but twenty-seven years of age 
 — approached the capital with words of conciliation 
 upon his lips. Summoning the people to assemble 
 outside the pomceriiim, — a concession to the letter 
 of a law which had repeatedly been broken by him- 
 self 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 ex- 
 traordinary 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 
 
128 Augustus Cess ar [36 B.C. 
 
 friendless and humiliated Lepidus and confer it upon 
 his conqueror. Octavian refused. He remained con- 
 tent with an ovation for his Sicilian victories and with 
 the erection of a marble column in the Forum, sur- 
 mounted with a golden image of himself which bore 
 the inscription, " Peace, long disturbed, be re-estab- 
 lished on land and sea." Nor were these honours the 
 less merited because they were paid not to the cham- 
 pion but to the subverter of the Roman Republic. 
 
 Octavian now enters upon a new phase of his 
 wonderful career. He had achieved success ; it re- 
 mained for him to prove that he deserved it. The 
 Triumvirate by the degradation of Lepidus had 
 been reduced to a Duumvirate ; Lepidus's share had 
 fallen to him and his course lay tolerably clear be- 
 fore 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 meagre 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 under- 
 stand 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. 
 
=> 2 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE FALL OF ANTONIUS 
 36-30 B.C. 
 
 ANTONIUS had parted from Octavian at Taren- 
 tum in the early summer of B.C. 37. Leaving 
 his wife, Octavia, under the care of her 
 brother, he had repaired to Athens, where the most 
 flattering reports of the successes won by his Heu- 
 tenants continued to reach him. Sosius had already 
 driven the Parthians from Syria ; Canidius had car- 
 ried his standards to the Caucasus, while Ventidius 
 had routed the enemy in Cilicia and slain the Par- 
 thian general, Pacorus. When, therefore, Antonius 
 quitted Athens in the spring of the following year 
 to conduct the war in person, he felt that he had 
 little to fear from the ambitions of a colleague 
 who was about to engage in a hazardous campaign 
 against his slippery foe, Sextus Pompeius. But 
 Antonius was his own worst enemy. No sooner 
 had he turned his face towards Syria than his 
 passion for Cleopatra again awakened. He sent for- 
 ward Fonteius Capito to Alexandria to bid Cleopa- 
 tra rejoin him at Laodicea. The Egyptian Queen 
 9 129 
 
130 AzigusHis Ccesar [36 B.C.- 
 
 willingly obeyed the summons, and strengthened 
 her hold upon her Roman admirer, whose infatua- 
 tion knew no bounds. He publicly acknowledged 
 the twins she had borne him and gave to them 
 the Oriental titles of the Sun and Moon, while he 
 lavished Roman provinces upon his royal mistress, 
 adding to her kingdom of Egypt Phoenicia, Coele- 
 Syria, Cyprus, parts of Judaea and Arabia, and the 
 whole of Cilicia Trachaea. 
 
 Then, in the midsummer of 36, he led an army of 
 30 legions, 10,000 horse, and 30,000 auxiliaries fur- 
 nished by his ally, the King of Armenia, to attack 
 Artavasdes, the King of Media Atropatene, — a trib- 
 utary of the Parthian Monarch, — whose realm was 
 bounded by Armenia on the north, the Caspian on the 
 east, Media on the south, and Mesopotamia on the 
 west. Warned by the disaster which seventeen years 
 before had overwhelmed Crassus, who had chosen 
 to march through the great plains of Mesopotamia, 
 Antonius took the longer but easier route through 
 the south of Armenia and reached in safety the 
 capital of Artavasdes. But he had rashly left be- 
 hind him the siege-train which was indispensable 
 for the successful assault of a walled city, and the 
 enemy cleverly cut into his lines of communication 
 and destroyed the detachments which he had sta- 
 tioned for their protection. He was compelled to 
 retreat ; his ally withdrew his auxiliaries in the hour 
 of peril ; and only after a desperate march of twenty- 
 seven days, during which he fought eighteen actions 
 and lost twenty-four thousand men, did Antonius 
 succeed in reaching Artaxata, the capital of his 
 
30 B .C] The Fall of A ntonius 1 3 1 
 
 treacherous ally, on the river Araxes. Even then, 
 instead of wintering in Armenia, he pushed on to 
 Syria at a further cost of eight thousand legionaries 
 and returned with Cleopatra to Alexandria. The 
 expedition had completely failed, and had only been 
 redeemed from irreparable disaster by the masterly 
 skill with which Antonius had conducted the retreat. 
 He did not scruple, however, to send couriers to 
 Rome with lying tidings of victory, and Octavian 
 himself, while taking good care that the real truth 
 should be known, publicly congratulated his col- 
 league upon his reported successes. At the mag. 
 nificent games which he provided for the Roman 
 people to celebrate his own conquests in Sicily, the 
 chariot of the absent Antonius appeared bedecked 
 with triumphal pomp, and his statue was given a 
 place in the Temple of Concord. 
 
 Meanwhile, amid the dissipations of Alexandria, 
 Antonius steadily degenerated. Though still in the 
 prime of manhood, the hard life which he had led 
 during the last twenty years began to tell upon him. 
 Throughout his many campaigns he had amazed his 
 soldiers by the cheerfulness with which he had en- 
 dured privations. Whatever he asked his men to 
 do he had done himself. They were proud to fol- 
 low a leader who grumbled neither at extreme heat 
 nor extreme cold, who was content with the rudest 
 and scantiest fare, and spared himself no more than 
 he spared them. During his forced march over the 
 Alps after the battle of Mutina and again during 
 his hazardous retreat towards the Araxes, Antonius 
 had displayed the finest qualities of a great general. 
 
132 Augtcstus CcEsar [36 B.c- 
 
 But he passed from excessive privation to excessive 
 luxury, and as often as he came within reach of 
 plenty and pleasure he abandoned himself to the 
 gratification of his sensual appetites. He seemed to 
 lose all self-control and live in a chronic state of 
 debauch. No doubt his faults were much exagger- 
 ated by the reckless imagination of the scandal- 
 mongers and by the deHberate malignity of his foes. 
 His character has been drawn for us mainly by 
 unfriendly hands, by Cicero, his arch-enemy, and by 
 the partisans of his victorious rival, Octavian. Yet 
 there is little doubt that their picture is, in the 
 main, correct, and it is easy to beheve that during 
 the last five years of his life he degenerated both in 
 body and mind under the baneful influence of the 
 Egyptian Queen. The East — not for the first or 
 the last time in history — ruined the soldier of the 
 West. 
 
 Yet he still revolved schemes of conquest, and 
 made spasmodic preparations for war with the kings 
 of Armenia, Media, and Parthia. During the year 
 35 he accomplished nothing, though he had equipped 
 an army in Syria to punish the treachery of the Ar- 
 menian in his last campaign. Cleopatra kept him 
 by her side and the troops were not set in motion. 
 This year, however, is important, because it marked 
 the beginning of the final rupture between himself 
 and Octavian. His wife made one more effort to 
 rescue him from the toils which Cleopatra had woven 
 around him. She left Rome to rejoin her husband 
 in Syria, bringing with her a magnificent body-guard 
 of two thousand picked troops as a present for her 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of A ntonius 1 3 3 
 
 lord, in addition to vast stores of clothes and com- 
 forts for his legionaries. But, when she reached 
 Athens, she found a letter directing her to come no 
 farther. Antonius refused to see her, yet was base 
 enough to accept her presents. Cleopatra, who 
 feared that her ascendency over Antonius would be 
 imperilled if he saw his wife, triumphed once more. 
 Octavia, therefore, returned to Rome, while Anto- 
 nius, more infatuated than ever, went back to Egypt 
 with his paramour. The next year (34) he roused 
 himself to make a brilliant dash upon Armenia. 
 City after city surrendered, the King fell a captive 
 into his hands and he returned, after a short cam- 
 paign, to celebrate a Roman triumph for the first 
 time on the banks of the Nile. Rome heard with 
 indignation of the brilliant scenes which accom- 
 panied his entry into Alexandria, of the two golden 
 thrones which had been set upon a silver tribunal, 
 and of the captive King of Armenia, once the ally 
 of the Republic, being led in chains to do obeisance 
 before the Queen of Egypt. The Roman people 
 heard with amazement, and Octavian with bitter 
 anger, that Antonius had acknowledged the legiti- 
 macy of the bastard Caesarion, the child whom Cleo- 
 patra had borne to Julius, and had associated him 
 with the Queen herself in the sovereignty of Egypt, 
 Cyprus, and Coele-Syria. To his own twin sons, 
 Alexander and Ptolemy, the Sun and Moon of the 
 Egyptian firmament, he assigned Roman provinces 
 and the still unconquered thrones of the East, and to 
 his infant daughter the sovereignty of Cyrene. An- 
 tonius himself assumed the diadem and the golden 
 
134 Augustus CcEsar [35 b.c- 
 
 sceptre, masqueraded as the god Osiris, and de- 
 graded his legionaries in Roman eyes by compelHng 
 them to act as body-guard to the Egyptian Queen 
 and bear her monogram upon their shields. The 
 pride of Cleopatra knew no bounds. We have, it 
 is true, only the authority of her enemies for the 
 ambitions which occupied her mind, but there seems 
 some reason to suppose that she looked confidently 
 forward to returning to Rome — which she had last 
 visited as the mistress of Julius — in the triumph of 
 victory by the side of her consort Antonius. She 
 had suffered insults in the city on the Tiber. The 
 haughty Roman aristocrats had poured scorn on her 
 pride ; the bitter-tongued populace had vented upon 
 her their sarcasms as she passed among them in the 
 narrow streets. She now vowed that she would 
 dictate her decrees from the Capitol itself and, as 
 Propertius says, give law to the Roman world amid 
 the statues and trophies of Marius. And so, in the 
 year 33, the schemes of Antonius, under her direc- 
 tion, began to take a new turn. He dreamt of alli- 
 ance with the Eastern Powers and of leading their 
 armies with his own to the conquest of the West. 
 Once more, therefore, he penetrated to the Araxes, 
 but, instead of fighting with the Median King, he 
 betrothed his son Alexander to a Median princess, 
 gave him a share of the kingdom of Armenia, and, 
 obtaining in return a large contingent of Median 
 cavalry, marshalled his mighty forces on the coast 
 line of Asia Minor, and spent the winter in Samos, 
 with Cleopatra once more at his side. Nor did he 
 make any secret of- his intentions. The whole world 
 
3 B . C] The Fa II of An ton ius 1 3 5 
 
 knew that its two masters were about to engage in 
 mortal conflict. 
 
 During these three years Octavian had been 
 steadily consolidating his strength and winning 
 golden opinions in Rome. He had given Italy 
 peace and security. Even the turbulent provinces of 
 Spain and Gaul had been reduced to tranquillity ; the 
 legions had been kept employed not in shedding 
 the blood of their fellow-Romans but in subduing 
 the warlike tribes of Illyria and Dalmatia, and Octa- 
 vian himself had gained honourable wounds among 
 the fastnesses of the Illyrian Alps. We do not 
 know what communications passed between him 
 and his absent colleague. Probably they were few 
 and formal. But while outwardly they remained 
 good friends and allies, if either sought the excuse 
 for a rupture there was no lack of suitable pretext. 
 The climax was reached at the beginning of the year 
 32, when, in accordance with the terms of their com- 
 pact at Tarentum, the consulship was to be held by 
 two nominees of Antonius, Sosius and Domitius. 
 Acting, no doubt, upon instructions from their 
 chief, the two Consuls signalised their entry into 
 office by a violent attack upon Octavian. They de- 
 nounced him for having despoiled Lepidus of his 
 share in the Triumvirate and for seizing control of 
 his provinces and legions to the detriment of Anto- 
 nius. They complained that the legions of the East 
 had not received their fair proportion of rewards, 
 and that the war-ships which Antonius had lent to 
 Octavian had never been returned. Octavian, who 
 had been absent from the city when the attack was 
 
136 Aitgtistus CcBsar [36 B.c- 
 
 delivered, hurried back and convened the Senate. 
 Attending the meeting with an armed escort, and 
 taking his usual place between the Consuls of the 
 year, he replied with a fierce counter-attack and de- 
 nounced Antonius as unsparingly as he himself had 
 been denounced by Antonius's partisans. And then, 
 when the Consuls declared that their position was no 
 longer safe in Rome, and quitted the city to rejoin 
 their patron, Octavian, so far from hindering their 
 going, publicly announced that all who desired to 
 join Antonius were free to do so. 
 
 By this time Antonius and Cleopatra had left 
 their winter retreat at Samos and betaken them- 
 selves to Athens, which they made their headquart- 
 ers, and while Cleopatra courted the fickle favour 
 of the Athenians, Antonius pressed on his military 
 preparations. It was from that city that he sent to 
 his deeply injured wife, Octavia, a bill of divorce. 
 This was the crowning insult which he could offer 
 to the first lady of the Roman world, who had done 
 even more than her duty to her infatuated and un- 
 worthy husband. When Antonius had curtly bidden 
 her to return to Rome from Athens and leave him 
 with his paramour, Octavian had desired his sister 
 to quit Antonius's roof and take up her abode with 
 him. But she had refused, and had still continued 
 to care not only for her own children by Antonius, 
 but for the children of Antonius and Fulva. If 
 any clients of her husband visited Rome they found 
 in her house the hospitality they required, and thus, 
 despite the indignities which had been heaped upon 
 her, she maintained a brave front before the world. 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of Antonius 137 
 
 Antonius was now brutal enough not merely to 
 send formal notification that he repudiated her, but 
 to despatch agents to Rome to turn her out of his 
 house. 
 
 Rome sympathised with and pitied the deeply 
 wronged lady. Her brother Octavian took a speedy 
 revenge. Titius and Plancus, the former one of 
 Antonius's best lieutenants, the latter the notorious 
 traitor who had first proved false to the Republic 
 and to Cicero, and now deserted his patron, Anto- 
 nius, had changed their camps and thrown them- 
 selves upon the protection of Octavian. It was 
 from them he learnt that Antonius had deposited 
 his will — which they themselves had attested — in 
 the custody of the Vestal Virgins. They urged him 
 to secure the document and publish its contents. 
 Octavian listened to their advice, and though the 
 impiety rather than the dishonourable character of 
 the act caused murmurs of disapproval, the contents 
 of the will were made public. It was found that 
 Antonius had left instructions that if he died in 
 Rome his body should be carried in funeral proces- 
 sion through the Forum and then be transported to 
 Alexandria for burial in the tomb of Cleopatra. 
 But what touched Octavian far more closely was the 
 fact that in this testament Antonius acknowledged 
 the lawfulness of the union of Julius and Cleopatra; 
 that he recognised Caesarion as Julius's legitimate 
 son, and by implication, therefore, declared Octa- 
 vian to be a usurper of the titles which belonged 
 to another. The will was read before both Senate 
 and people, and two of Antonius's old supporters, 
 
138 Augustus CcEsar [36 B.c- 
 
 C. Calvisius Sabinus and C. Furnius, affirmed that it 
 was Antonius's intention, if he proved victorious in 
 the struggle, to abandon Rome and make Alexandria 
 the new capital of the world. To what extent these 
 accusations were well founded, or even to what ex- 
 tent the document read before the Senate was gen- 
 uine, it is impossible to say. Octavian was not 
 above falsifying evidence for use against, his foes. 
 Knowing that war was certain and unavoidable, he 
 availed himself of every means whereby to inflame 
 public opinion against his rival. It was his deliber- 
 ate policy to array upon his side the pride and jeal- 
 ousy of the Roman people, to exaggerate and paint 
 in the darkest colours the influence and ambition of 
 Cleopatra, to represent that the Roman religion and 
 the Roman civilisation were threatened by the alien 
 gods and the alien civilisation of the Nile. Octa- 
 vian never shewed his astuteness and cunning more 
 convincingly than by his conduct in these critical 
 moments. At last, when he felt the hour had come, 
 the Senate, at his instigation, deprived Antonius of 
 the consulship for the year 31 — though Antonius 
 had already designated Lucius Cluvius to hold office 
 for him — and formally annulled his triumviral pow- 
 ers. But Octavian carefully refrained from declaring 
 Antonius a public enemy. The war which he pro- 
 claimed in the Temple of Bellona with all the 
 ancient solemn ceremonial was proclaimed against 
 Cleopatra alone, on the pretext that she had usurped 
 sovereign rights over territories which belonged to 
 the Roman Republic. 
 
 To obtain the necessary money for the campaign 
 
30 B . c .] The Fall of A nlonius 139 
 
 about to open Octavian imposed a special war tax of 
 twenty-five per cent, upon all holders of land, and 
 mulcted freedmen who possessed a fortune of more 
 than 200,000 sesterces, of an eighth of their total 
 possessions. These taxes were most unpopular 
 and if Antonius had been well advised he would 
 have made a great effort to land an army in Italy 
 during the autumn of 32. But, though this was 
 threatened by his presence at Corcyra, he let the 
 months slip by and withdrew to Patras to spend 
 the winter. He had been kept fully informed of 
 what was passing in Rome, and, on hearing that 
 the Senate had deposed him from the Triumvirate, 
 he sent back a haughty message declaring that he 
 would listen to no negotiations for peace, but that 
 six months after he had decisively crushed his ene- 
 mies he would lay down his special powers and re- 
 store the ancient constitution. At the opening of 
 the new year, 31 B.C., when the term of the Trium- 
 virate had expired, Octavian took possession of the 
 consulship, choosing as his colleague Marcus Vale- 
 rius Messala. The first few months passed without 
 decisive action. Antonius had collected a huge 
 army of 100,000 foot and 12,000 horse, and he was 
 followed into the field by the kings of Mauretania, 
 Commagene, Cappadocia, and Paphlagonia, vassals 
 who owed to him the thrones on which they sat. 
 In his host, too, were ranged auxiliaries from Pon- 
 tus. Media, and Armenia, while a powerful squadron 
 from Egypt held an important place in his enormous 
 fleet of 500 ships of war. Octavian's forces were 
 smaller in number but were far more coherent and 
 
T40 Augustus CcBsar [35 b.c- 
 
 trustworthy. He had 80,000 legionaries, 12,000 
 horsemen, and a fleet of 250 ships of much lighter 
 calibre than those of the enemy, but possessing the 
 inestimable advantage that their officers and crews 
 had been trained in the art of naval warfare during 
 the campaign against Sextus Pompeius. Antonius 
 had ships in abundance but they were inadequately 
 manned. This, however, did not trouble him, for 
 when their unreadiness to put to sea was pointed 
 out to him he carelessly replied: "What does it 
 matter about sailors? As long as there are oars on 
 board and men in Greece we shall not lack for row- 
 ers." Yet he soon found it necessary to burn many 
 of his vessels in order to make up full equipments 
 for the remainder. 
 
 The offensive was taken by Octavian and Agrippa. 
 The latter, with a true perception of naval strategy, 
 led a powerful squadron to seize Methone in the 
 Peloponnese, and this port he utilised as a base 
 whence his ships might intercept the supplies com- 
 ing from Egypt and Asia to Antonius, whose chief 
 difficulty was that of finding sustenance for his 
 army and his fleet in the impoverished districts of 
 Greece. Octavian, meanwhile, threw an army across 
 the Adriatic and seized Corcyra, and then gradually 
 concentrated his forces on the coast of Epirus facing 
 the Antonian camp at Actium. The narrow chan- 
 nel which forms the entrance to the Ambracian 
 Gulf alone separated the combatants, and many 
 weeks passed in desultory skirmishing. Antonius 
 at length sent his cavalry round the head of the 
 gulf to attack the Octavian positions in flank. 
 
30 B .C] The Fall of A ntonius 141 
 
 They were unsuccessful, however, in this enterprise, 
 and one of his naval squadrons, under Nasidicus, 
 was cut off and captured by the active Agrippa. 
 Defections daily took place in the Antonian camp. 
 The kings of Pisidia, Paphlagonia, and Galatia de- 
 serted their patron, and, more important still, Domi- 
 tius Ahenobarbus and his personal friend and adviser, 
 Quintus Dellius, also made terms with Octavian. 
 Antonius, whose fleets were cooped up in the Am- 
 bracian Gulf, found his commissariat difficulties 
 almost insuperable. His lieutenants strongly urged 
 him to strike his camp and choose another battle- 
 ground ; he himself is said to have sent wild chal- 
 lenges to Octavian to meet him in personal combat 
 or to fight out their quarrel on the historic ground of 
 Pharsalus. Octavian waited, as he could well afford 
 to do, and eventually Antonius resolved to stake all 
 upon the issue of a naval battle. It is said that he 
 was urged thereto by the fears of Cleopatra, whose 
 one anxiety was to get away from the perils of the 
 camp at Actium and return to her own country, 
 while the repeated successes of Agrippa, who held 
 the seas and was, by this time, blockading the en- 
 trance to the Ambracian Gulf, increased her alarm 
 for her personal safety. 
 
 Antonius has been blamed by some historians for 
 risking a naval action. The probabilities are that 
 he was compelled either to fight or lose his entire 
 fleet. He had allowed the Octavians, with far 
 fewer ships than his own, to obtain the command of 
 the sea. His vessels remained idle in port, while 
 Agrippa's light galleys were intercepting his supply 
 
142 Augiishis CcBsar [36 B.c- 
 
 ships. Yet Antonius's whole plan of campaign de- 
 pended upon his transports. None knew better 
 than he how arduous it was to maintain a large 
 army in Greece ; and that it was incumbent upon 
 him to try conclusions with Octavian's navy. If he 
 proved victorious, the position of Octavian's land 
 forces in Epirus would be desperate, for they were 
 obliged to draw all their supplies across the Adri- 
 atic ; while, even if he were beaten, he would still 
 be able to withdraw his army across the mainland 
 into Macedonia and Thrace. Antonius, therefore, 
 is not to be censured for deciding to fight on 
 sea; the indelible stain upon his military reputa- 
 tion is that he had secretly determined, if he 
 were worsted in the encounter, to abandon his land 
 army to its fate and share the flight of his par- 
 amour. Certainly his soldiers heard with dismay 
 the order that twenty thousand picked legionaries 
 were to be sent on shipboard. *^ Imperator," ex- 
 claimed one of his centurions, a veteran whose body 
 was covered with honourable wounds gained in 
 many a campaign, " why do you mistrust these 
 wounds, or this sword, and rest your hopes upon 
 miserable logs of wood ? Let Egyptians and 
 Phoenicians fight on sea, but give us the land, on 
 which we are wont to conquer or die." Their dis- 
 may was intensified when they saw that the ships 
 were being laden with treasure, and that, contrary 
 to the usual practice, the sails were being stowed 
 on board instead of being left on shore. It was, 
 therefore, with a gloomy foreboding of defeat that 
 the Antonians challenged the enemy on the 2d of 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of Antonhis 143 
 
 September, 31, and the two fleets faced one another 
 at last. But scarcely had they manoeuvred into 
 position and the battle been joined, when from the 
 galley of Cleopatra there flew the signal of retreat. 
 Crowding on all sail, the Egyptian squadron of 
 sixty ships turned and ran, and Antonius, leaping 
 into a swift galley, hastened to overtake his mis- 
 tress. When he had boarded her vessel, the shame 
 of his conduct scorched him like a flame. For 
 three whole days he sate at the prow with his head 
 buried in his hands, overcome with ineffectual re- 
 morse. At length, when Cape Taenaron was 
 reached, Cleopatra's women led him to their mis- 
 tress's cabin, and, continuing their flight, her cap- 
 tains shaped their course for the Libyan coast. 
 
 Antonius's crews, whom he had thus basely aban- 
 doned, fought strenuously until far into the day, 
 when the rumour that their commander had de- 
 serted them spread through the fleet and could no 
 longer be denied. Many vessels had been sunk or 
 shattered, the remaining three hundred surrendered. 
 The victory of Octavian was complete, and his tri- 
 umph was crowned by the surrender of the land 
 army of Antonius without striking a blow. For 
 seven days the Antonian legions turned a deaf ear 
 to the agents of Octavian, but when their general, 
 Canidius, also fled, they hesitated no longer and 
 passed over to the camp of Octavian. The con- 
 queror could now afford to be generous to the par- 
 tisans of a rival who was not only beaten but 
 disgraced. A few of his captives, against whom he 
 bore a special grudge, were put to death, but he 
 
144 Augustus CcBsar [36 B.c- 
 
 spared the lives of most, and the legionaries of 
 Antonius willingly took the oath of loyalty. To 
 reduce the numbers of the enormous host under his 
 command was his first care. Those who had served 
 their time with the eagles were dismissed and sent 
 back to Italy, which he placed under the care of his 
 friend Agrippa, while, with a picked army, he him- 
 self set out to undertake the conquest of Egypt. 
 As before, his soldiers clamoured for their pay, and 
 betrayed a mutinous spirit when the money was not 
 forthcoming. The shores of Actium furnished no 
 booty ; the camp of Antonius had been despoiled 
 by Antonius himself. But Octavian quelled the 
 mutiny, and, after laying the foundations of the 
 city of Nicopolis upon the site where he had 
 pitched his camp, he moved slowly through Greece 
 and Asia Minor to receive the submission of the 
 East. Then, deeming it advisable to pay a flying 
 visit to Italy before making his descent upon 
 Egypt, Octavian suddenly appeared at Brundisium, 
 where he received deputations from the capital con- 
 gratulating him upon his triumph, and offering him 
 the consulship for the year 30. The main reason, 
 however, which had brought him to Italy was to 
 overawe the discontented and disbanded soldiery, 
 who were again clamouring for their rewards, and 
 he partially succeeded in this at the expense of the 
 unfortunate Italians of the south by a wholesale 
 eviction of all who had favoured the cause of 
 Antonius. As after Philippi, a number of Italian 
 cities were handed over to the legionaries, and the 
 original possessors were transplanted to Greece and 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of Antonius 145 
 
 Asia. To prove at once his desire and his inability 
 to pay his soldiers, he put up his own estates at 
 auction in order to obtain a supply of ready cash. 
 But no one was reckless enough to make a bid for 
 such dangerous property, and the soldiers had per- 
 force to wait. In twenty-seven days Octavian had 
 completed his plans and again set sail for Asia, in- 
 tending to invade Egypt by the Syrian route. 
 
 Antonius knew that he need expect no mercy. 
 He had sent repeated messengers to Octavian, ask- 
 ing that he might be allowed to spend the remainder 
 of his days in the obscurity of private life, but had 
 received a stern refusal. Cleopatra too had begged 
 that the throne of Egypt might be secured to her 
 children, but her emissaries had returned with the 
 evasive reply that she might expect every favour if 
 she would either put Antonius to death or banish 
 him from her dominions. The Egyptian Queen, 
 who had decked her galleys with the laurels and 
 garlands of victory when she appeared off the port 
 of Alexandria in her flight from Actium, in order to 
 obtain an unopposed entry, had signalised her 
 arrival by a massacre of all from whom she feared 
 danger. Antonius was left without a single legion 
 in the whole of Asia. His vassal kings had all 
 made their peace with Octavian ; even Herod of 
 Judaea deserted him in his extremity. Canidius, 
 fleeing from Greece, brought him the news that his 
 powerful land army had gone over to the enemy, 
 and when he made his way to Alexandria from 
 Libya to rejoin Cleopatra he found her planning 
 a wild and romantic scheme of quitting Egypt, 
 
146 Augustus CcBsar [35 b.c- 
 
 dragging her galleys overland to the Red Sea, and 
 setting out, like a second Dido, to found another 
 kingdom beyond the reach of Octavian's vengeance. 
 But this mad project was speedily abandoned and 
 the lovers determined to remain where they were 
 and await the course of events. Antonius gave way 
 to moody despair. He withdrew from the court, 
 buried himself in a little house, near Pharos, and 
 affected to live like Timon, cursing the ingratitude 
 of mankind. But soon, wearying of his hermitage, 
 he returned to Cleopatra's side and again plunged 
 into debauchery. The lovers had in happier days 
 founded a society which they called the '' Inimitable 
 Livers "; they now instituted another to which they 
 gave the title of " The Companions in Death." But 
 their gaieties were hollow. Cleopatra experimented 
 with poisons to discover the least painful mode of 
 death ; but she still hoped to live. In the intervals 
 of their feastings, Antonius sometimes remembered 
 that he had once been a great captain of men, and 
 made fitful preparations for the defence of Egypt, 
 and when at length Octavian's army marched up to 
 the gates of Alexandria and encamped before the 
 city, Antonius placed himself at the head of his 
 cavalry, made a brisk sally, and returned in triumph 
 from this trifling skirmish. But treachery was at 
 work. A few days later, when the Egyptian fleet 
 left the harbour to give battle, while he was to at- 
 tack the Octavians by land, Antonius saw to his dis- 
 may the rowers salute, instead of fighting, the enemy, 
 while his own cavalry deserted in a body. His in- 
 fantry were routed and driven back in confusion 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of Antonms 147 
 
 into the city, and Antonius was informed that Cleo- 
 patra had taken her own life. 
 
 It was time, therefore, he thought, that he should 
 take his, and he bade his faithful servant, Eros, 
 strike the fatal blow. Eros drew his sword but 
 turned the point upon himself and fell dead at his 
 master's feet. "This, Eros, was nobly done," cried 
 Antonius ; " thy heart would not permit thee to kill 
 thy master, but thou hast taught him what to do by 
 thy example." Seizing the sword, he plunged it 
 into his bowels and fell back upon a couch. While 
 he lay in his agony, a messenger came to him from 
 Cleopatra, whom he believed to be dead, bidding 
 him come tQ her. Rallying for a moment at the 
 news that his mistress was still alive, he ordered his 
 servants to carry him in their arms to the foot of 
 the monument in which Cleopatra had taken refuge. 
 Not daring to undo the bolts and open the door, 
 the Egyptian Queen and her woman attendants let 
 down a rope from the window and the dying man 
 was with difBculty hoisted up. There are many 
 moving stories in the pages of Plutarch, but none 
 more tragic than that in which he describes Cleopa- 
 tra straining at the rope, with every feature dis- 
 torted by the violence of the effort, and the agonised 
 endeavour of the dying Antonius to stretch out his 
 arms to his beloved Queen, as he hung suspended in 
 mid-air. '' When she had drawn him up and laid him 
 on a bed, she stood over him, and rent her clothes, 
 beat and wounded her breast, and, wiping the blood 
 from his disfigured countenance, she called him 
 her lord, her emperor, her husband. Her soul was 
 
148 Augustus Ccssar l36 b.c- 
 
 absorbed in his misfortune ; and she seemed totally 
 to have forgotten that she had any miseries of her 
 own." With his last breath Antonius tried to soothe 
 her grief and implored her to consult her own safety, 
 but even before he expired, Proculeius arrived from 
 Octavian with orders to take Cleopatra alive. The 
 doors of the mausoleum were still fast. Octavian 's 
 officer, however, contrived to obtain a ladder and 
 enter by the window, while his friend, Gallus, held 
 Cleopatra's attendants in conversation below. A 
 warning cry apprised the Egyptian Queen of her 
 danger and she drew a dagger to stab herself, 
 but her uplifted arm was seized by Proculeius, 
 who removed the weapon and bade her trust 
 confidently to the chivalry and clemency of her 
 conqueror. 
 
 Octavian entered the city without opposition, not 
 as a conqueror in the panoply of war, but in close 
 converse w^ith the Alexandrian philosopher, Arius. 
 Mounting the tribunal prepared for him in the 
 Gymnasium, he assured the people, who prostrated 
 themselves before him, that he would do their city 
 no harm. The memory of its founder, Alexander, 
 the beauty of its streets, and his friendship for 
 Arius alike, he said, combined to dispose him to be 
 lenient. Antyllus, the eldest son of Antonius by 
 Fulvia, was put to death; his dead rival's other 
 children were spared and were brought up by the 
 virtuous Octavia as her own. Caesarion, the son of 
 Cleopatra by Julius, had been sent for safety by his 
 mother into ^Ethiopia, but the wretched youth was 
 persuaded to turn back and, while Octavian was 
 
MARCUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 IN THE VATICAN MUSEUM, ROME. 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of A nton ius 1 49 
 
 hesitating how to deal with him, Arius whispered in 
 his ear that there ought not to be too many Caesars. 
 The hint was enough. 
 
 Meanwhile, Octavian had permitted Cleopatra to 
 bury Antonius in the tomb she had prepared for 
 him, and sought to allay her fears. She had aban- 
 doned herself to the luxury of frenzied grief at the 
 loss of her lover and, after performing the funeral 
 rites with great magnificence, — Plutarch tells us 
 that she was allowed to expend what she thought 
 proper on the occasion, — she threatened to starve 
 herself to death. Octavian, however, prevailed upon 
 her to return to the palace, and, when she had re- 
 covered from the fever into which she had been 
 thrown, he himself visited her in person. The ac- 
 counts of what took place at this celebrated interview 
 vary considerably in points of detail. According to 
 Dion Cassius, Cleopatra decked herself in her most 
 sumptuous robes and set herself once more to play 
 the courtesan, hoping that the charms which had 
 ensnared Julius Caesar and Antonius would still 
 prove potent and alluring enough to captivate her 
 youthful conqueror. Pictures and busts of the 
 murdered Dictator adorned the apartment, while let- 
 ters which she had received from him were placed 
 in her bosom, ready for instant reference, whereby 
 to melt the heart of the dead man s adopted son. 
 Plutarch, on the other hand, declares that the Queen 
 was lying on a couch, clad only in a single bedgown, 
 when Octavian appeared, and that she threw herself 
 at his feet as he entered the room, her hair in dis- 
 order, her voice trembling, her eyes sunk, and her 
 
150 Augustus CcBsar [36 b.c- 
 
 breast still bearing the marks of her self-inflicted 
 injuries. Roman authors were only too ready to 
 blacken the character of the Queen, and seem to 
 have accepted the story that Cleopatra was perfectly 
 willing to take Octavian as her new lover, though 
 her tears for Antonius were hardly dry upon her 
 cheeks. Whether this is a gross libel upon one 
 whose amazing fascinations have passed into a pro- 
 verb, and whose career it seems incongruous to 
 judge by the frigid standard of Western morality, it 
 is impossible to say. But, whatever Cleopatra's 
 hopes may have been before this interview, they 
 were rudely shattered at its close. Octavian was 
 proof against tears and entreaties. He remained 
 cold to her pleading. Though not insensible to 
 woman's beauty, he was on this occasion made of 
 stone, remembering that it was against this Queen, 
 now lying at his feet, that he, as the head of the 
 Roman State, had drawn the sword. He listened in 
 silence as she attempted to justify her policy and 
 pleaded that she had been constrained against her 
 will to fight against Rome, but held out no hope 
 that he would continue her upon the throne of 
 Egypt. Then she begged for life, placed in his 
 hands an inventory of the royal treasures, and 
 when Seleucus, one of her treasurers, accused her of 
 suppressing some articles in the account, she blazed 
 up in sudden fury and caught the offending Egyptian 
 by the hair. Octavian smiled at the outburst and 
 courteously accepted her assurance that she had 
 merely reserved a few trinkets to offer as personal 
 gifts to Octavia and Livia. Congratulating himself 
 
30 B.C.] The Fall of A ntonius 1 5 1 
 
 that the Queen had abandoned all thought of suicide, 
 he solemnly promised that she might expect the 
 most honourable treatment at his hands, and quitted 
 her presence well satisfied, for he had already made 
 up his mind to send Cleopatra to Rome to grace the 
 triumph which there awaited him. 
 
 His purpose was known to Cornelius Dolabella, 
 one of the younger officers of his staff, who had been 
 smitten with Cleopatra's charms. Dolabella sent 
 her warning of his chief's intentions. On learning 
 the humiliating fate in store for her, the Queen 
 begged permission from Octavian to make her last 
 oblations to Antonius. The request was granted, 
 and Cleopatra resolved to die. The closing scene is 
 one of the best known in ancient history. After 
 kneeling at the tomb of the lover whom she was so 
 soon to rejoin, after crowning it with flowers and 
 kissing the cold marble, she ordered the table to be 
 spread for a last magnificent feast. The basket of 
 figs, which hid the poisonous asp, was brought in 
 at the close and then Cleopatra dictated a letter to 
 Octavian and ordered all her attendants to leave the 
 mausoleum excepting her two trusted women, Iris 
 and Charmion. The letter contained a passionate 
 request that she might be buried in the tomb of 
 Antonius, and Octavian hurriedly despatched mes- 
 sengers to prevent the Queen from taking her life. 
 They arrived too late. When they broke open the 
 doors Cleopatra lay dead upon the golden couch, 
 clad in all her royal ornaments. At her feet lay 
 Iris, dead like her mistress, while Charmion, hardly 
 able to support herself, was adjusting with trembling 
 
152 
 
 Augustus CcESar [36-30 B.C. 
 
 fingers the diadem upon the dead Queen's brow. 
 -Charmion, was this well done?" exclaimed the 
 messenger. " Perfectly well," was the proud reply, 
 *'and worthy a descendant of the Kings of Egypt." 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE NEW REGIME 
 
 OCTAVIAN had now attained the summit of 
 his ambition, and at the age of thirty-three 
 found himself the undisputed master of the 
 Roman world. The RepubHcan party and the Re- 
 public itself had lain buried for twelve years in the 
 graves of Brutus and Cassius ; the mausoleum of 
 Cleopatra at Alexandria contained the body of his 
 last and most dangerous rival. To whatever quarter 
 he turned his eyes, danger threatened from none. 
 Every legion had taken the oath to him ; Rome 
 itself was in the safe-keeping of his two trusted 
 councillors, Maecenas and Agrippa. A son of his 
 old colleague, the now humihated Lepidus, had, it 
 is true, recklessly attempted to form a conspiracy 
 against him in the capital, but the vigilant Maecenas 
 swooped down upon the conspirator and transported 
 him under a strong guard to Octavian in the East, 
 where he paid the penalty for his mad folly with his 
 life. There can be no more striking testimony, both 
 to the absolute sense of security felt by Octavian 
 and to the absolute acquiescence of public opinion 
 in his personal domination, than the fact that the 
 
 153 
 
154 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 conqueror of Antonius was able to spend nearly two 
 entire years without shewing himself in Rome. He 
 had quitted the city in the midsummer of 31 ; he did 
 not return to it until the August of 29. 
 
 Octavian destroyed the throne of the Ptolemies^ 
 and incorporated Egypt in the Roman dominion. 
 We shall consider more closely this important step 
 in a later chapter ; in this place it will suffice to state 
 that he definitely annexed the land of the Nile, 
 placed it under the control of his friend, Cornelius 
 Gallus, and, leaving three legions to overawe its 
 passive and unwarlike population, quitted Alexan- 
 dria and spent the winter in Samos. But before 
 he left Egypt he thoroughly despoiled the treasuries 
 and palaces of Cleopatra, and the plunder he thus 
 acquired paid for the war which he had now brought 
 to a triumphant conclusion. Throughout his career 
 Octavian's most constant need had been for ready 
 money. His inability to pay his troops the boun- 
 ties, which he had been compelled from time to time 
 to promise them, had led to constant mutinies and 
 revolts. His uncle's legacy, the generous contribu- 
 tions of his friends, and the confiscation of the prop- 
 erty of the proscribed had scarcely enabled him to 
 meet his most pressing obligations. We can hardly 
 doubt that his policy of inflaming public opinion 
 against the Queen of Egypt had been dictated, at 
 least in part, by his desire to get possession of the 
 enormous accumulations of wealth which she had in- 
 herited from the long line of kings who had preceded 
 her on the throne of Egypt. Cnaeus Pompeius, 
 Gabinius, JuHus Caesar, and Marcus Antonius had 
 
The New Regime 155 
 
 all dipped their hands freely into that inexhaustible 
 store, but enough still remained to free Octavian 
 from his pecuniary embarrassments. By making 
 Egypt his own private domain, and carefully regul- 
 ating its finances and revenues, he rarely lacked for 
 money again. If the spoils of Egypt paid for his 
 rise to an imperial position, the tribute which con- 
 tinued to flow steadily into his exchequer from that 
 country oiled the wheels of the imperial machine for 
 the remainder of his life. 
 
 As we have said, Octavian returned to Rome in 
 the August of B.C. 29. He was then enjoying his 
 fifth consulship. Throughout his absence, both 
 Senate and people had been compliant to his will. 
 They had rejoiced, and with sincerity, over his tri- 
 umph at Actium ; they had heard with relief — if 
 with a sense of pity — of the final tragedy at Alex- 
 andria. The question for them had not been a 
 choice between liberty and subjection, but a choice 
 between two masters, and they preferred Octavian, 
 whose victory was a guarantee of peace, order, and 
 decent administration. The enlightened and well 
 calculated selfishness of the younger competitor 
 promised the security and stability to which they 
 had long been strangers. And as they could only 
 guess his plans for the future, they hastened to 
 shower decorations upon him. They formally con- 
 firmed all his acts ; they permitted him on all occa- 
 sions to wear the scarlet mantle and laurel crown of 
 the conqueror ; they instituted in his honour a quin- 
 quennial festival ; they added his name to the hal- 
 lowed formula in which the sacred colleges prayed 
 
156 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 for the welfare of the Senate and the people ; they 
 bade the Vestal Virgins go forth to meet him when 
 he should approach the gates of Rome, and they 
 accorded to him the rare honour of a triple triumph. 
 Octavian signified his gracious acceptance of these 
 honorific decrees while he still lingered in the East 
 busy with the work of reorganisation, but at length 
 he entered the city in the garb of a conqueror. The 
 trophies he had won six years before in Dalmatia 
 and Pannonia adorned his first triumph; then came 
 the spoils gained in the sea-fight at Actium ; while 
 the third triumph represented his victory over the 
 Queen of Egypt. Cleopatra, by her self-inflicted 
 death, had escaped the crowning indignity of being 
 borne as a living captive through the streets of 
 Rome, but her children were there, and the efKigy 
 of the Queen upon her couch, as his lieutenants had 
 found her in her death-chamber, was placed upon a 
 triumphal car and was the cynosure of all eyes upon 
 that eventful day. True as ever to the crafty policy 
 by which he sought to convince the Romans that 
 the war in which he had been engaged was a foreign 
 war, and his victory the victory of the Western over 
 the Eastern civilisation, Octavian took care that no 
 trophies of the dead Antonius should figure in the 
 procession. He wished, as far as might be possible, 
 to bury all memories of the Triumvirate which had 
 destroyed the constitution. 
 
 Passing to the Capitol, the conqueror paid the 
 usual homage of sacrifice to Jupiter, Best and Great- 
 est, and then descending to the Forum, he dedicated 
 a new temple to Minerva, opened with great pomp 
 
> < 
 
 o i 
 
 Q. X 
 
 2 i 
 
 Q o 
 
 UJ I 
 
 CO a. 
 
 CO it 
 
 I 
 
The New Rdgime 1 5 7 
 
 the recently completed Basilica of Julius, and placed 
 therein a statue of the goddess Victory. By these 
 rehgious celebrations Octavian seemed to claim the 
 sanction of Heaven for the new regime which he was 
 about to inaugurate. Nor did he forget to amuse 
 the people of Rome with a series of lavish entertain- 
 ments and spectacles, to conciHate their favour by a 
 generous largesse, and to reward his veterans with 
 the bounties they had richly earned. He knew the 
 advantage of starting well, of disarming covert criti- 
 cism as well as open opposition, and of persuading 
 the world that an era of prosperity and peace was 
 about to open. As an earnest thereof, he poured 
 out in Rome the wealth of plundered Egypt, which, 
 according to the testimony of Suetonius, had so im- 
 mediate an effect upon the money market that it 
 brought down with a run the high rates of interest, 
 which had prevailed for many years, and greatly in- 
 creased the price of land and all other commodities. 
 But still more important and significant was the 
 pledge of peace, which he gave by closing the doors 
 of the Temple of Janus, which stood on the fringe 
 of the Roman Forum. Within living memory those 
 doors had always remained open, as a sign that war 
 was afoot in some part, either near or remote, of the 
 Roman dominions, and that the legionaries were 
 either facing the barbarians in battle or were turning 
 their swords upon one another. Now they were 
 solemnly closed, for the third time only in the his- 
 tory of the city, and the world, which was tired and 
 exhausted with continued strife, hailed the act with 
 universal acclamation. A campaign, it is true, was 
 
158 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 in progress on the Danube, where Crassus was waging 
 successful war against the Daci, Bastarnae, and 
 Getse, and was carving out the new province of 
 Moesia, but at such an hour the people were not in- 
 clined to stand out for pedantic accuracy of diction 
 or literal truth. What they gladly seized hold of 
 was the symbolic meaning of the ceremony and its 
 implicit indication of future policy. Hence the 
 chorus of praise which arose at the prospect of peace, 
 the memories of which roused Velleius Paterculus to 
 genuine eloquence, as he described how the civil 
 wars that had raged for twenty years had at length 
 drawn to a close, how foreign strife had been buried, 
 peace recalled once more, and everywhere the fury 
 of arms lulled to sleep. It is, indeed, impossible to 
 lay too much stress upon the exhaustion of the 
 Roman world, if we would understand the absolutely 
 passive acquiescence with which it accepted the new 
 regime. No one felt this more strongly than Taci- 
 tus, — writing long after the event, — whose sympa- 
 thies were all on the side of the fallen Republic. 
 Again and again, in those terse, epigrammatic sen- 
 tences of his,^ he reveals this dominating truth, and 
 we see the eagerness of the world to turn its back 
 upon a hateful past, full of murder, war, rapine, and 
 
 ' For example: " Cuncta discordiis civilibus fessa" ; " Cunctos 
 dulcedine oiii pellexit" — where the choice of the verb betrays his 
 political leanings — *' Tuia et prcBseniia qiiam Vetera et pericidosa 
 fnallent" — where again there lurks the covert sneer at men who for- 
 sook their principles, even while he is bound to admit their complete 
 justification : — ' 'Non aliud discordantis patricB remedium fuisse quam 
 Utah uno regeretur.*' 
 
The New Rdgime 159 
 
 all imaginable horrors, and to look to the future and 
 to the one man who held the future in his hands. 
 
 Moreover, Octavian had carefully prepared the 
 ground for the seed he was about to sow. He had 
 been virtually master of Rome and of the West for 
 twelve years, ever since the Treaty of Brundisium 
 in B. C. 40. His victory over Sextus Pompeius — 
 whereby he had re-established the security of Rome 
 and Italy — and the overthrow of Lepidus in B. c. 36, 
 combined with the withdrawal to the East of Anto- 
 nius, who, as the years passed by, lost touch with 
 Western affairs and became almost an alien power, 
 had enabled him to consolidate his position. The 
 battle of Actium is naturally taken as the date from 
 which the new regime starts, but it had really begun 
 many years before. 
 
 When, therefore, Octavian returned to Rome to 
 take up his residence in the capital, there were three 
 alternatives open to him. He might genuinely re- 
 store the Republic and the Republican forms of gov- 
 ernment ; or he might destroy the Republican forms 
 of government and frankly create a monarchy; or 
 he might effect a sort of compromise between the 
 two, and retain the forms of the old constitution 
 while safeguarding his own unconstitutional and 
 un-Republican position as supreme Head of the State. 
 There is no real evidence to shew that he hesitated 
 for long in making up his mind to select the path of 
 compromise. To restore the Republic, to create 
 anew an organism which had died a violent death, 
 was impossible. The Republic had proved itself 
 during the two previous generations incapable of 
 
i6o Augushis CcBsar 
 
 ■ 
 
 governing a world empire such as the Roman do- 
 minion had now become. It had been rotten and 
 corrupt to the core in its administration of the pro- 
 vinces. Its constitution, with its elaborate series of 
 checks and counterchecks, had utterly broken down. 
 The rise of a professional army had merely hastened 
 and completed its downfall. Every attempt to cre- 
 ate a great constitutional party, as a counterpoise to 
 the narrow ideas of the oligarchical clique on the 
 one hand and to the turbulence of mob-rule on the 
 other, had failed ignominiously. The Senate had 
 been unable in Cicero's day to rise to the concep- 
 tion of decent and honest administration. What 
 hope was there that they would rise to it after the 
 carnage of the civil wars? Even, therefore, if Oc- 
 tavian had genuinely desired to restore the status 
 quo antca, as a statesman he must have known that 
 this would entail renewed disorder. The first 
 ambitious pro-consul with resources sufficient to 
 raise and pay an army, and with enough military 
 genius to win his soldiers' confidence, would have 
 the careers of Julius, of Pompeius, of Antonius, and 
 of Octavian himself ever before his eyes, and would 
 be drawn irresistibly along the same perilous path. 
 Again, even supposing such a restoration of the 
 Republic had been feasible, how could Octavian 
 have guaranteed his own safety ? If he had de- 
 scended to a private station, after restoring the 
 oligarchs to power, they would, sooner or later, 
 have invented a pretext for his destruction, and, to 
 save himself, he would again have had to call upon 
 the services of his veterans. But self-abnegation 
 
The New Rdgime i6i 
 
 was no part of the character of Octavian. He had 
 aspired to rule at the age of nineteen ; it was not 
 likely that he would abdicate just at the moment 
 when he had attained to universal dominion. Sulla 
 had abdicated the dictatorship in 79, and within ten 
 years the constitution he had set up was over- 
 thrown. Cnaeus Pompeius withdrew from public 
 life in 70, but was compelled in self-defence to re- 
 enter it three years later ; he had disbanded his 
 army in 62, and the Senate had promptly refused 
 the ratification of his acts. Political disinterested- 
 ness paid no better then than now. Octavian could 
 not have resigned his position in 28 without making 
 himself the target for all his foes. 
 
 When, therefore, Suetonius tells us that Octavian 
 twice had thoughts of restoring the Republic — de 
 reddenda re publica bis cogitavii — once at the period 
 we are now considering and a second time when he 
 was weakened by continued ill-health and the cares 
 of office, we cannot accept the statement without 
 the gravest qualifications. He felt compunctions, 
 says the historian, because he had so often cast it in 
 the teeth of Antonius that but for him the Republic 
 might safely be restored. No doubt Octavian had 
 frequently employed this argument, when justifying 
 to others the unconstitutional position which he held, 
 and had thrown upon his colleague and rival all the 
 odium of the Triumvirate. But throughout he had 
 been playing for absolute not for divided power, for 
 the whole and not for the half of the Roman world, 
 and it is ridiculous to suppose that he seriously con- 
 sidered the question of abdication merely because 
 
1 62 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 his enemies might find, in certain of his earlier 
 speeches, passages in which he had protested that he 
 would thankfully be content with a private station. 
 The same story appears in Dion Cassius, but it is by 
 him elaborated with abundant detail. According to 
 his account, Octavian summoned Maecenas and 
 Agrippa to his councils and debated with them the 
 policy he should pursue. The historian purports to 
 give in full the speeches of both, and attributes 
 to Agrippa the extraordinary advice that Octavian 
 should abdicate. But the reasoning by which he 
 justifies this counsel is even more extraordinary than 
 the counsel itself. Agrippa's speech is little more 
 more than a rhetorical thesis in praise of personal 
 ease. He recommends the delights of obscurity as 
 contrasted with the cares and burdens of office, and 
 urges upon Octavian the craven argument that to be 
 safe he must not arouse the envy or hatred of his 
 contemporaries, and that he must prove the sin- 
 cerity of his filial piety to Julius by abdicating now 
 that he has avenged his murder. If sentiments such 
 as these were ever uttered by Agrippa, they little 
 agree with all else that we know of his character. 
 
 The speech of Maecenas, on the other hand, is a 
 much more valuable historical document. The his- 
 torian represents him as advising Octavian to adopt 
 the measures which he subsequently carried out, and 
 the reconstruction he advocates practically repre- 
 sents the imperial system as it existed when Dion 
 Cassius wrote his history. Maecenas's main argu- 
 ment is that for Octavian to give back to the Sen- 
 ate and the people their old freedom would be like 
 
The New Rdgi77te 163 
 
 placing a sword in the hands of a mad child. He 
 was bound to grasp power firmly with both hands. 
 If he did not, he might expect the certain rise of a 
 constant succession of men like Lepidus, Sertorius, 
 Brutus, and Cassius to throw the State into confu- 
 sion and to compass his destruction. He must, 
 therefore, repress the turbulence of the mob and 
 mob-assemblies and restrict all political power to 
 himself and a few wise counsellors. In other words, 
 Maecenas resolutely advocated the establishment of 
 an empire in all but name, and the advice, whether 
 actually given or not, was acted on by Octavian. 
 He had not waded through slaughter to a throne in 
 order to stultify himself by an act of Quixotic and 
 mischievous resignation at the very moment of vic- 
 tory. His personal ambitions made this impossible. 
 His knowledge of what the welfare of the State re- 
 quired rendered it equally impossible. None knew 
 better than he that the stability of the Roman do- 
 minion rested upon himself and upon the reconstruc- 
 tion which he alone was strong enough to carry 
 through. 
 
 Then, as a genuine restoration of the Republic 
 was out of the question, Octavian had to decide 
 whether he should establish a monarchy. That this 
 was a practical alternative is beyond all doubt. His 
 power and his will were absolute. If, after leading 
 his veterans in triumph through the streets of Rome, 
 he had closed the doors of the Senate and abolished 
 by a single edict all the higher magistracies ; if he 
 had at once boldly assumed the diadem and the in- 
 signia of monarchy, it is difficult to see how any 
 
164 Augustus CcEsar 
 
 effective opposition could have been offered to his 
 designs. But the very name of king was an abomin- 
 ation. However far the Romans had degenerated 
 from the old Republican ideas of simplicity and 
 equality, they still regarded with detestation the 
 trappings of royalty. To them the word king was 
 synonymous with tyrant and betokened an alien and 
 un-Roman civilisation. Antonius had deeply out- 
 raged public sentiment and public opinion by wear- 
 ing the diadem and playing at royalty in the court 
 of Cleopatra, and the great Julius himself had dealt 
 a severe blow at his popularity by his evident hank- 
 ering after the glittering symbols of monarchy. It 
 is hard for the modern student to appreciate the 
 strength of this rooted prejudice in the Roman 
 mind — a prejudice which survived even the first two 
 centuries of the Roman Empire — but Octavian was 
 fully aware of its intensity and did not fail to take 
 it into account. He had never been a mere reckless 
 adventurer. The older he grew the more ready he 
 became to follow the Hne of least resistance. Why 
 then should he run risks which might prove to be 
 desperate, simply for the sake of a high-sounding 
 name and a few baubles? Why should he exas- 
 perate and aHenate public opinion? Why invite 
 conspiracy and rebellion ? Why create a stubborn 
 and relentless opposition merely that his ears might 
 be flattered with the title of king? He may have 
 been tempted, like other conquerers both before 
 and since his day, by the idea of a crown, and by 
 the hope of founding a regular dynasty, but, if he 
 was, he put the temptation from him. 
 
The New Rdgime 
 
 165 
 
 And thus he was inevitably thrown back upon the 
 third alternative, upon, that is to say, the middle 
 path of compromise. He would retain the sem- 
 blance of a Republic, the semblance of liberty and 
 freedom, and the semblance of the old constitution, 
 and yet at the same time retain his absolute ascend- 
 ency. There should be a Republic in form ; others 
 should share with him the insignia of office, but he 
 alone would be supreme. We shall see with what 
 astuteness, and with what insight into the character 
 of those whom he governed, he pressed towards the 
 accomplishment of his designs, until in the end the 
 creator of the Roman Empire dared to inscribe in 
 marble the living lie that he had restored the Roman 
 Republic. An organised hypocrisy, perhaps, but one 
 which fully served its purpose and helped to smooth 
 the transition from the old to the new. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 AUGUSTUS AND HIS POWERS 
 (30-23 B.C.) 
 
 FOR the year B.C. 28 Octavian associated with 
 himself in the consulship his friend and mini- 
 ster, Marcus Agrippa, and one of his first acts 
 was to hold a *' Lectio SenatusT This duty had 
 formed part of the functions of the censorship, but 
 that venerable office had fallen into abeyance during 
 the death-throes of the Republic and there had been 
 no formal revision within living memory. Conse- 
 quently, the Senate was, in the picturesque words of 
 Suetonius, " a shapeless and disordered mob." It 
 had originally consisted of six hundred members ; 
 Julius by his new creations had raised its number to 
 nine hundred ; Antonius had crowded it v/ith his par- 
 tisans, and there were now more than a thousand who 
 wore the broad stripe upon their togas. Many of 
 these had no shadow of claim to a place in the 
 august assembly, but had gained admission by influ- 
 ence and bribery, without having filled the requisite 
 magistracies which gave the right of entry. Octa- 
 vian and Agrippa set themselves to weed out the 
 
 166 
 
30-23 B.C.] AugiisHcs and his Powers 167 
 
 unfit. They offered the opportunity of voluntary 
 withdrawal to all who desired to be spared the igno- 
 miny of expulsion, and fifty who took the hint were 
 allowed to retain the senatorial ornaments as a re- 
 ward for their frank acknowledgment of personal 
 unfitness. Another hundred and fifty were expelled 
 in disgrace and the numbers of the Senate were 
 thus reduced to about eight hundred. 
 
 Octavian did not hold the ofifice of censor, which 
 from time immemorial had been considered incom- 
 patible with the tenure of the consulship. But, if 
 he was not actually censor, he was at least invested 
 with censorial powers. Either then or at some 
 later date the new title of Prcefectus Morurn was be- 
 stowed upon the head of the State, to take the place 
 of the censorship, which thenceforward practically 
 became extinct and was but seldom revived. But 
 the revision of the Senate had a result even more 
 important than the restoration of that august body 
 to its ancient dignity and the rehabilitation of its 
 character. It had been the custom of the censors in 
 the old times, on the conclusion of their periodical 
 revisions, to select the name of the most respected 
 ex-censor in the Senate and place it at the head of 
 the roll of membership. According to the rules 
 which governed the procedure of the House, the 
 presiding consul always called upon the senator 
 whose name stood in this place of honour to open 
 the discussion on the subject in debate. The dis- 
 tinction was purely honorary ; the title of Princeps 
 Senatus carried with it no other privilege than that 
 of speaking first, and since the death of the venerable 
 
1 68 Augustus C CBS ar [30 B.c- 
 
 Quintus Catulus in B.C. 60 the title itself had 
 fallen into abeyance. It was now to be revived 
 with a new significance. Octavian's name, at the 
 suggestion of Agrippa, was placed first upon the list, 
 and he thus became Prince of the Senate. This 
 thoroughly constitutional appellation speedily ac- 
 quired an unconstitutional importance. The word 
 itself suggested to the Roman ear no connection 
 with monarchy, but just as the name of Caesar has 
 become the symbol of despotism, so the innocent 
 and Republican title of Princeps has become the 
 appanage of Royalty. In the opening chapters of 
 the Annals Tacitus twice takes occasion to lay 
 emphasis upon this important fact. "Augustus," 
 he says, "subjected the world to empire under the 
 title of Prince." And again: "The Republic was 
 organised neither as a monarchy nor as a dictator- 
 ship, but under the title of a Prince." So, too, in a 
 famous passage of the Histories^ he speaks of the 
 legions discovering " the secret of empire that a 
 Prince can be made elsewhere than in Rome," while 
 Suetonius, in writing of Caligula, says that he came 
 within an ace of assuming the diadem and con- 
 verting to the definite form of a monarchy the sys- 
 tem which masqueraded as a Principate. It would 
 be a mistake to suppose that when Octavian first 
 became Prince of the Senate the senators and the 
 people at once appreciated the full significance of the 
 act. The shrewder among them might guess what 
 it portended in the future, but in all probabil- 
 ity not even Octavian himself foresaw how quickly 
 the title of Princeps Senatus would be shortened into 
 
23 B.C.] Augustus and his Powers 169 
 
 that of Princeps alone and would stand in the eyes 
 of the world as the designation of sovereign au- 
 thority. 
 
 The revision of the Senate and the taking of the 
 census, which shewed that there were 4,063,000 
 Roman citizens of military age, were the two prin- 
 cipal measures of the year 28. Octavian's sixth 
 consulship, however, was also distinguished by the 
 formal annulment of every illegal and unconstitu- 
 tional measure which had been passed during the 
 Triumvirate. *' At last, in his sixth consulship," 
 says Tacitus, " Caesar Augustus, feeling his power 
 secure, annulled the decrees of his Triumvirate and 
 gave us a constitution which might serve us in peace 
 under a monarchy." In other words, the slate was 
 wiped clean. But though the pages of the statute- 
 book whereon these measures were inscribed were 
 thus formally cancelled or even torn bodily out, 
 their consequences remained, and this act of gener- 
 osity or repentance on the part of Octavian signified 
 little. The Actian festival, which he celebrated this 
 year on a scale of unexampled magnificence ; his 
 fourfold increase of the ordinary corn distribution ; 
 his cancellation of arrears of debt to the treasury ; 
 his lavish expenditure upon the new public build- 
 ings which were beginning to rise on every hand — 
 all these things were so much dust thrown into the 
 eyes of the people to reconcile them to the changes 
 which he was about to introduce, and to the consoli- 
 dation of his own power. And his success was mar- 
 vellously complete, so complete, indeed, that when he 
 met the Senate on the first day of January in 27 and 
 
170 Augushcs Ccesar [30 B.C. 
 
 entered upon his seventh consulship, he felt secure 
 enough to offer to resign the whole of his extraord- 
 inary powers. But he took care that he received 
 back again in another form the powers which he 
 then laid down. The Senate conferred upon him 
 the most supreme authority which they had to be- 
 stow. They gave him the pro-consulare hnperium 
 for ten years. In other words, they legalised his 
 military position as chief of the Roman armies ; for 
 the provinces assigned to him, in the great division 
 of the provinces of the Empire which was now 
 made, were precisely those in which the legions 
 were stationed. By such a decree they themselves 
 invested Octavian with supreme military control, 
 and voluntarily rivetted his yoke upon their necks. 
 
 At the same time they conferred upon him the 
 title of Augustus. It was Munatius Plancus, the 
 arch-traitor, who moved that this should be the cog- 
 nomen of Octavian, after others had proposed that 
 he should take the name of Romulus, as the second 
 founder of Rome. The choice was skilful, for the 
 word was closely associated with the ideas of divine 
 majesty and abundant fruitfulness. The epithet 
 which had hitherto been confined to the holiest 
 temples and the most sacred religious observances 
 of the Republic, and which had been specially re- 
 served to denote the bounty of Jupiter himself, was 
 thus transferred to an individual, and it was too 
 conspicuous, too isolating, too suggestive of wor- 
 ship and adoration to be compatible with political 
 freedom. Augustus, as we shall henceforth call him, 
 must have felt perfectly satisfied when he accepted 
 
COIN OF CLEOPATRA AND M. ANTONIUS. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS CELEBRATING THE CAPTURE OF EGYPT. 
 
 COIN OF ORODES I OF PARTHIA. 
 
 COIN OF AMYNTAS, KING OF GALATIA, 
 
23 B.C.] Augustus and his Powers 171 
 
 this flattering and supreme distinction, together 
 with the pro-consular imperium which invested him 
 with the undivided control of the legions, that he 
 had lost nothing by refraining from estabHshing a 
 monarchy. The Senate had granted him a title 
 which was to transcend in dignity that of King, 
 which his Greek subjects translated into " Sebastos " 
 or " the Hallowed One," and though his imperium 
 was limited nominally to a term of ten years, he 
 knew well that in the interval he would either fail 
 utterly and lose all, or he would be able to extort a 
 renewal for as long a period as he desired. He was 
 now firmly seated in the saddle and the new regime 
 had begun. He was Augustus ; he was Consul with 
 full pro-consular imperium ; he was Imperator ; he 
 was Princeps Senatus, and he wielded all the func- 
 tions of a censor. There still remained other pow- 
 ers and offices to be absorbed, but for the present he 
 was content. Rome and the Roman and Greek 
 world were content also. 
 
 Then, towards the close of the year, Augus- 
 tus again quitted Rome, nor did he return until 
 nearly three years had elapsed. The affairs of Gaul 
 and Spain claimed his personal attention throughout 
 this period. It was believed that he meditated an 
 expedition to Britain, but if that had been his inten- 
 tion the project was speedily dropped and was never 
 revived in his lifetime. Augustus's stay in Gaul 
 was brief, and after completing in Lugdunum, the 
 capital, the census of the province and regulating 
 its tribute, he passed into Spain at the head of a 
 powerful army. There a far more difficult problem 
 
1 72 Augustus CcEsar [30 b.c- 
 
 presented itself and one which was not finally solved 
 for many years to come. The Iberian Peninsula had 
 never been thoroughly subdued by the Republic, 
 and tranquillity was only assured in the immediate 
 neighbourhood of the legions. The natives were still 
 as adept in the art and practice of guerilla warfare 
 as they had been in the days of Sertorius and, 
 though constantly defeated as often as they offered 
 battle in the plains, they maintained a ceaseless 
 struggle in their mountain fastnesses. Augustus 
 crossed the Pyrenees, but was soon compelled by 
 illness to repair to Tarraco, on the coast. This he 
 made the new capital of the province Tarraconensis, 
 formerly known as Hither Spain, removing thither 
 the centre of administration from Nova Carthago, 
 the modern Carthagena. While he lay ill his lieu- 
 tenants overthrew the Cantabrians in a great battle 
 near Vellica, and the enemy betook themselves to 
 the hills. The spirit of the tribes was not yet thor- 
 oughly broken ; in fact, they rose in revolt as soon 
 as Augustus quitted Spain ; but he laid the founda- 
 tions, during his stay in the country, for the per- 
 manent pacification of the peninsula. 
 
 Augustus returned to the capital in the year 24, 
 again ordered the Temple of Janus to be closed, and 
 again distributed a lavish largesse among the people. 
 He had been regularly elected to the consulship at 
 the close of each year, and he entered upon the 
 office for the eleventh time in the January of 23, 
 choosing as his colleague Calpurnius Piso. Soon 
 afterwards he was attacked by an illness even more 
 serious than that which had prostrated him at Tar- 
 
23 B.C.] Augustus and his Powers 173 
 
 raco, and little hope was entertained of his recovery. 
 At such a moment there can have been only one 
 question uppermost in the public mind. It was this 
 
 If Augustus died, who would be his successor ? 
 
 Whom would he nominate as heir, not alone to his 
 private fortune, but to the supreme power? Would 
 it be Marcellus, the son of his sister Octavia by her 
 first husband, to whom two years before he had 
 given the hand of his daughter Julia in marriage ? 
 Or would his choice fall upon his old friend and co- 
 adjutor Agrippa ? The excitement in Rome at such 
 an hour can be imagined, especially as Agrippa, who 
 was the fittest to succeed, was known to be jealous 
 of the favours which Augustus was lavishing upon 
 his young nephew and son-in-law, Marcellus. Au- 
 gustus summoned the chief men of the State to his 
 bedchamber, and there discussed with them the con- 
 dition of public affairs. But if they expected from 
 him, in the hour which they believed to be almost 
 his last, the candour which he had never displayed 
 in health, they were disappointed. The consum- 
 mate actor dissimulated to the very end. Just before 
 he dismissed them from the room he handed without 
 a word a detailed account of the resources of the 
 State to his colleague Piso, and, at the same mom- 
 ent, placed his seal-ring in the hands of Agrippa. 
 Nothing could have been more characteristic of the 
 man. The actions were such as to bear a variety of 
 interpretations, each as plausible as the other. By 
 giving to his fellow-Consul a schedule of the State 
 he seemed to be handing back his trust entire to 
 the Republic and to the Senate ; by giving his ring 
 
174 Augustus CcBsar [30 B.c- 
 
 to Agrippa he seemed to nominate him as his heir 
 and successor. If the story is genuine — and we 
 cannot be certain that it is not either a clever inven- 
 tion of later times to illustrate by a crowning in- 
 stance the dissimulation of Augustus, or merely one 
 of those canards which purport to relate what takes 
 place in the privacy of palaces — if Augustus really 
 believed that he was on the point of death when he 
 left this cruel enigma to torture and perplex the 
 public mind, no condemnation can be too severe for 
 such cynical irony, though in one sense it needed 
 but this to round off a career of studied hypocrisy. 
 The signet-ring with which he sealed all papers of 
 State bore the device of a Sphinx. For the Sphinx 
 to speak out in the moment of death would have 
 been to destroy a perfect illusion. His will might 
 have made his purpose clear, but the probabilities 
 are that if Augustus had died then, the sword would 
 again have leaped from the scabbard. 
 
 Such speculations, however, are idle. Augustus 
 recovered, to the joy of the whole world, and the 
 dangerous hour passed. Again it was character- 
 istic of the man that the crisis was no sooner over 
 than he solemnly declared to the world that he had 
 had no intention of nominating a successor. He af- 
 fected to regard such a suggestion with horror, as 
 though it imputed to him treasonable designs 
 against the Republic. He was no king that the 
 government should pass, as though it were a mere 
 asset in his personal estate, to his heir. He was 
 merely Consul, the first man in a free Common- 
 wealth, and if he wielded enormous and extraordin- 
 
23 B.C.] Augustus and his Powers 1 75 
 
 ary powers, had they not all been formally bestowed 
 upon him by the voluntary vote of the Senate? To 
 prove his sincerity, he was even willing to read his 
 will in public and thus convince the most sceptical 
 that he had never harboured such a thought. But 
 the senators at once protested that they needed 
 no such proof of his single-minded patriotism and 
 warmly repudiated the idea that their confidence in 
 him required to be confirmed. Consequently the 
 incident remained without further light being thrown 
 upon it, and it has perplexed posterity as success- 
 fully as it baffled Augustus's contemporaries. And, 
 although there is no written authority to warrant 
 the suspicion, it is perhaps permissible to suggest 
 that Augustus deliberately caused the reports as to 
 the gravity of his illness to be exaggerated, and 
 made political capital out of his undoubtedly feeble 
 and precarious health. It was clearly his policy to 
 bring sharply home to his people a sense of their 
 dependence upon him, to make them realise their 
 need of his controlling hand, to foster the belief 
 that, if he were removed chaos, would inevitably re- 
 turn. Hence his continual references in private 
 conversation to the blessings of retirement and to 
 the burdens of responsibility ; hence too his constant 
 hints in public that he contemplated withdrawal, 
 hints which were always ambiguous in meaning and 
 clothed in the most cryptic language. This year, 
 however, he not only hinted at, but insisted upon, 
 withdrawal from one of his many offices. He re- 
 signed the consulship, which he had held without 
 intermission for the last ten years, and bestowed 
 
176 Augustus CcEsar [30 B.c- 
 
 the vacant dignity for the remainder of the year 
 upon Lucius Sestius, who had been a quaestor in the 
 service of Marcus Brutus and still venerated the 
 memory of the Republican chief. Such an act of 
 magnanimity cost him nothing. Autocrats do not 
 confer decorations upon their avowed political op- 
 ponents except with the object of disarming their op- 
 position and silencing their criticism, or because they 
 feel absolutely secure and can afford to be generous. 
 Augustus, by resigning his consular fasces to Sestius, 
 was merely playing to the gallery of public opinion, 
 which is easily impressed by a show of abnegation. 
 
 The truth was soon patent. Augustus had come 
 to the conclusion that certain extensions of his 
 powers were necessary for the smooth working of 
 the administration. To obtain those extensions he 
 was willing to lay down the consulship, though that 
 was still the chief magistracy of the year. He may 
 have found that there were certain inconveniences 
 in sharing the government of Rome and Italy with 
 a colleague. He may even have contemplated oc- 
 casions arising, especially if he were absent from 
 Rome, when a colleague in the consulship might 
 thwart his policy. Moreover, it is well to bear in 
 mind that Augustus was most scrupulous in respect- 
 ing the outward forms of the Republic and his re- 
 peated assumption of the consulship was distinctly 
 opposed to Repubhcan tradition. He might, indeed, 
 have ruled as Consul by extending the powers of 
 that office and dispensing with colleagues. But he 
 preferred other means, which were just as unconsti- 
 tutional in reality though outwardly they did less 
 
23 B.C.] A ttgustus and his Powers 177 
 
 violence to tradition. The announcement of his 
 resolve created great uneasiness in Rome. He was 
 pressed to reconsider his determination, but re- 
 mained obdurate and retired from the city to Alba, 
 while the Senate anxiously debated in what form they 
 should give him a renewed pledge of their confidence. 
 No doubt Augustus, by means of trusted intermed- 
 iaries, himself suggested the new powers which 
 would prove agreeable to him, and finally expressed 
 his desire that he should be invested with the full 
 tribunician authority and an extension of the pro- 
 consular imperium. The latter need not detain us 
 long. He had already enjoyed for four years the pro- 
 consular imperium in half the provinces of the Ro- 
 man world ; that power was now extended to the 
 other half, which remained as before under the con- 
 trol of the Senate and under governors appointed 
 by that body. But the tribunician authority — the 
 tribunicia potestas — was something, if not entirely 
 new, at any rate magnified beyond all precedent. 
 
 According to some authorities, this potestas had 
 been offered to him immediately after the defeat of 
 Antonius. Whether he accepted it, is not clear. 
 But, if he did, t\iQ potestas in its new form was so es- 
 sentially distinct that thenceforth Augustus indic- 
 ated the years of his reign by the number of times 
 he had held the tribunician power. The title was 
 given him for life, but he assumed it afresh every 
 year and it became the outward symbol of his sover- 
 eign authority. Why then did he choose the one 
 title which, above all others, was associated in the 
 history of Rome with the power of the people, with 
 
178 Augustus CcEsar [30 B.c- 
 
 democracy and the popular will? The answer is 
 clear. The possession of the tribunicia potestas en- 
 abled him to draw into his hands all the threads of 
 power which had formerly rested in the hands of the 
 people. He did not become simply tribune, because 
 the tribunate was a collegiate body, consisting of 
 ten members, and because, as a patrician and Im- 
 perator, he was not eligible for membership. But, 
 while respecting the letter of the law, he did not 
 scruple to invest himself with all the powers belong- 
 ing to the office on a greatly extended scale. The 
 potestas of the ordinary tribune was confined to the 
 city of Rome and to the one-mile limit beyond 
 the pomoerium. The tribunicia potestas of Augustus 
 was valid throughout the whole of the Roman do- 
 minions. It gave him the right to convoke and pre- 
 side over the Senate and the people, to propose new 
 legislation, to receive and judge appeals, and to veto 
 any measures of any magistrate of which he disap- 
 proved. The tribunes, as the direct champions and 
 representatives of the people, had been held to be 
 inviolable, sacrosanct, and exempt, during their term 
 of office, from the ordinary obligations of the laws. 
 Augustus now transferred this inviolability to him- 
 self, and from this sprang the law of majestas, one of 
 the most formidable weapons of tyranny and absol- 
 ute monarchy. The powers of the tribunes had been 
 so absolute in theory and their right of interference 
 with the machinery of government so complete that 
 had it not been for the mutual jealousies of the ten 
 members and the fact that the Senate had usually 
 managed to secure each year at least one or two trib- 
 
23 B.C.] Augustus and his Powers 1 79 
 
 unes devoted to its interests, they must have been 
 supreme in the Republic. Augustus now took over 
 these powers not only in theory but in practice. The 
 importance of this step, therefore, can hardly be 
 exaggerated, and as the years passed by, its over- 
 whelming significance became more and more clear. 
 The tribunate had been the one office of the Repub- 
 lic full of inherent possibilities, and capable of de- 
 velopment along a number of parallel lines. The 
 tribune had been the special champion of the plebs ; 
 what more easy than for Augustus to represent 
 that the tribunicia potestas with which he had been 
 invested was the outward token that his rule was 
 based upon the willing consent of the masses? He 
 might thus speciously claim to be their represent- 
 ative as well as their ruler, their protector as well as 
 their master. Again, the person of the tribune had 
 been sacrosanct — what more easy and natural than 
 the development of the theory that the holder of the 
 tribunicia potestas was equally inviolable? Kings 
 have claimed a special sanctity from divine right ; Au- 
 gustus could claim the same from the majesty of the 
 sovereign people. The tribunes again could not only 
 veto legislation but they had the power to imprison or 
 even put to death any magistrate who resisted their 
 authority. Augustus thus inherited from them all the 
 familiar weapons of absolute authority. And so this 
 new tribunicia potestas^ conferred upon Augustus in 
 B.C. 23, marks even more definitely than the title of Au- 
 gustus and the assumption of proconsular imperium 
 the consolidation into one pair of hands of the ad- 
 ministrative and legislative machinery of the State. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE THEORY OF THE PRINCIPATE 
 
 MANY modern historians have misread and 
 misinterpreted the work of Augustus by 
 reason of their impatience of what they 
 consider to be poHtical shams. The present-day 
 idea of an empire, or, indeed, of Caesarism in any 
 form, is essentially opposed to the idea of a re- 
 public, where the people are supreme. But to the 
 Roman of the time of Augustus, as to Augustus 
 himself, the words Principate and Republic bore a 
 wholly different signification from that which now 
 attaches to them. That Augustus carried dissimula- 
 tion to its furthest limits must be frankly admitted, 
 but it is absurd to suppose that this was his guiding 
 principle. His great aim was to graft the Principate 
 upon the RepubHc. He did not wish to uproot the 
 old tree and plant a new one ; his desire was to fur- 
 nish the old tree with a new branch, which should 
 be the most vital of all its limbs. In the constitu- 
 tion were many magistracies; he added yet another. 
 If it was one of extraordinary scope and power, the 
 justification was that the times required it. Augus- 
 tus was no daring reformer like his uncle JuHus, 
 
 iSo 
 
Theory of the Principate 1 8 1 
 
 who had been essentially the leader of the popular 
 faction. He was a conservative, and, in some re- 
 spects, a conservative of the school of Cato. And 
 it is clear that, at any rate in the early years of his 
 personal rule, after the fall of Antonius, he seri- 
 ously attempted to associate the Senate with him- 
 self in the government of the Roman world. What 
 he established in form was not so much an empire 
 as a dyarchy. Thus Augustus declares in the 
 Monumentum Ancyranum : ''Post id tempus prcestiti 
 omnibus dignitate ; potestatis autern nihilo amplius 
 habui quam qui fuerunt mihi quoque in magistratu 
 collegCB^ In other words, he only claims that he en- 
 joyed more prestige than his colleagues ; in actual 
 power they were his equals. The words were false, 
 and we can scarcely doubt that they were delib- 
 erately intended to create a false impression at the 
 time when they were written. Twenty years be- 
 fore they might have been employed with much less 
 open violence to the truth. 
 
 There is a striking phrase of Seneca which sums 
 up admirably the whole position : *' Se induit reipub- 
 licce CcEsarT Augustus, that is to say, clothed him- 
 self with the Republic. This was something more 
 than merely masquerading in its old garments, as so 
 many historians have interpreted his action ; it was 
 a real attempt — to vary the metaphor — to make 
 an antiquated machine work with new driving 
 wheels. Time was to shew that they were too pow- 
 erful for the purpose, for they shattered the orig- 
 inal framework to pieces. But the attempt was 
 honestly made, and, as a conservative, he naturally 
 
1 82 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 selected the Senate to be his coadjutor. Let us 
 see, then, how the Senate fared at his hands. We 
 have already shewn that one of Augustus's first acts 
 was to revise its membership, to purge it of those 
 whom the wits of Rome had dubbed in derision the 
 Orcini and Charonitae, and to hand over into its 
 keeping half the provinces. He also created a 
 number of new patrician gentes to fill the gaps 
 which the civil wars had made in the number — 
 never a large one — of those who were entitled to 
 hold the auspices. Whether there had been any 
 senatorial census under the Republic is doubtful. 
 Augustus either introduced the principle or made 
 the old census more rigorous, for he raised it from 
 400,000 to 800,000, and finally to 1,200,000 ses- 
 terces. He did not want poor men in his Senate, 
 but men of substance with a stake in the country. 
 Subsequent Emperors endorsed his policy. In 
 Pliny's time every senator was obliged to invest 
 part of his capital in Italian land. Augustus's rules 
 were stringent, but he did not refuse himself the 
 privilege of making exceptions. In numerous in- 
 stances he provided out of his own purse sums suf- 
 ficient to enable poor men, who were personally 
 agreeable to him, to retain their seats in the Curia. 
 These became his pensioners, while others, whom 
 he disliked, he could at once degrade, as not com- 
 plying with the requirements of the census, if they 
 fell on evil times. With the same object in view — 
 that of keeping the Senate select — he gradually 
 reduced its numbers to six hundred ; and though 
 he did not change the avenues of entrance, by the 
 
Theory of the Principate 183 
 
 simple device of imposing upon the quaestorship 
 the obligation to provide gladiatorial shows he con- 
 fined the holding of that office to men of wealth. 
 Moreover, no one was eligible to stand for the 
 quaestorship unless he had served in the army as 
 a military tribune, or had held one of the lower 
 magistracies. Here again, in the case of favoured 
 candidates, Augustus sometimes granted exemption 
 from these obligations, and conferred the senatorial 
 stripe on his own authority by his right of adlectio. 
 Still more significant was the fact that, either 
 indirectly or directly, he controlled, or could con- 
 trol if he so desired it, certain of the magisterial 
 elections. He possessed the right of '' nomination " 
 and " recommendation." He could refuse, in other 
 words, in his capacity as presiding officer, to accept 
 the name of a candidate, on the plea that he was not 
 qualified for the office ; while his " recommenda- 
 tion " absolutely secured the favoured candidate's 
 return without rejection or canvass {sine repidsa et 
 ambitu). Augustus instituted stated days for the 
 meetings of the Senate — twice a month, except in 
 September and October— and attendance on these 
 occasions was obligatory. Extraordinary meetings, 
 however, might be summoned for any pressing busi- 
 ness. 
 
 The original scheme of Augustus provided that 
 the Senate should hold co-ordinate powers with the 
 Princeps, though it rapidly degenerated into a sub- 
 ordinate position. The process of this degeneration, 
 which in the nature of things was inevitable, cannot 
 be traced step by step. Augustus, from the very 
 
184 Augustus CcEsar 
 
 first, took the control of all foreign politics into his 
 ov/n hands. He alone made war and alliances. The 
 senators might continue to receive foreign embas- 
 sies and provincial deputations, as a formal act and 
 by grace of the Princeps, but they had no armies in 
 their provinces, with the exception of a single legion 
 in Africa. Their share in foreign and military affairs 
 was confined to hearing despatches read to them, 
 voting resolutions of congratulation, and decreeing 
 triumphs for the Princes of the Imperial House. 
 Even as an advisory body, their influence was stead- 
 ily lessened by the growing importance of the Im- 
 perial Concilium, or Council of State. Originally 
 formed in B. C. 27, this Council consisted of the Em- 
 peror, the Consuls, the Consuls-elect, and fifteen 
 senators elected by lot to act for six months. In 
 12 A. D. its composition was reorganised, and the 
 senatorial members were chosen by the Emperor, 
 but long before that time the Concilium had become 
 a sort of Privy Council, in which legislation was initi- 
 ated, and the main body of the Senate merely regis- 
 tered its decrees. The condominium of Principate 
 and Senate thus year by year became more and 
 more a matter of form. All real control rested with 
 the Emperor. The world was governed not by the 
 resolutions of the Senate, but by the edicts, decrees, 
 and rescripts of the Emperor, by his Ministers of 
 State, and by the new Imperial Civil Service. 
 
 Yet, in one matter of first-rate importance, Au- 
 gustus increased the authority of the Senate. He 
 bestowed upon it that jurisdiction in important 
 criminal cases for which the Optimates had strug- 
 
Theory of the Przncipate 185 
 
 gled hard in the days of the Republic, and for the 
 illegal exercise of which, during the CatiHnarian 
 conspiracy, Cicero was subsequently exiled. This 
 had been vested from time immemorial in the sove- 
 reign people, and the popular party had stubbornly 
 maintained the claim of the populus to criminal and 
 appellate jurisdiction. The change had important re- 
 sults. It became the custom for the Senate to try 
 all members of its own body who were charged with 
 serious criminal offences, all political offenders of 
 importance, all governors or ofificials charged with 
 peculation or extortion, and all who were accused of 
 the crime of lese-majest6. The ordinary qucsstiones 
 perpetucB continued as before to exercise their juris- 
 diction, but apparently the Senate, as the supreme 
 High Court in criminal cases, could at any time 
 order that a particular case should be brought be- 
 fore itself. This was a most important extension of 
 the functions of the Senate, but here again its pow- 
 ers came to be overshadowed by those of the Prin- 
 ceps. He, too, possessed criminal jurisdiction to an 
 unlimited extent. Whenever he desired, he could 
 order that an accused person should be brought be- 
 fore him for trial, and, as time passed on, most cases 
 in which members of the Imperial Civil Service or 
 officers of the army were involved, were heard by 
 the Princeps, or by his praefects. And not only 
 that, but the supreme appeal from the provinces, 
 in cases where the life of a Roman citizen was at 
 stake, lay to Caesar, and not to the Senate. It is 
 impossible to say at what moment this came to be 
 the recognised custom. Certainly during the reign 
 
1 86 Augustus Ccssar 
 
 of Augustus the Principate was not the universal 
 Court of Appeal from the provinces which it after- 
 wards became. The fact would seem to be that in 
 the matter of criminal jurisdiction, as in most other 
 matters, the dyarchy established by Augustus grad- 
 ually broke down, owing to the enormous prestige 
 of the Emperors. Consequently, under Emperors 
 like Tiberius or Domitian, the Senate in its judicial 
 capacity merely became an instrument of imperial 
 tyranny, as it gave its verdicts under the eye of the 
 Emperor. On the other hand, the theory of its co- 
 ordinate powers lasted long, and, in normal circum- 
 stances, was not felt by the senators themselves to 
 be the hollow sham which it is usually considered to 
 have been. Take, for example, the speech of Otho 
 to his troops when news came of the revolt of 
 Vitellius : 
 
 " Vitellius is the master of a few tribes, and has some 
 semblance of an army. We have the Senate. . . . 
 The eternal duration of empire, the peace of nations, 
 my safety and yours, rest on the security of the Senate. 
 This order, which was instituted under due auspices by 
 the Father and Founder of the city, and which has lasted 
 without interruption and without decay from the Kings 
 down to the Emperors, we will bequeath to our descend- 
 ants, as we have inherited it from our ancestors. For 
 you give the State its senators and the Senate gives it 
 its Princes."* 
 
 Such a passage as this, coupled with many 
 others which might be quoted from Tacitus and 
 
 * Tacitus Hist. Bk. i, Chap. 84. 
 
Theo7^y of the Principate 187 
 
 Pliny, and taken in conjunction with the fact that 
 Tiberius, despite his suspicions of the Senate and his 
 slaughter of individual senators, gave to that body 
 the right of electing to all the magistracies which 
 was formerly exercised by the people, shews that 
 the Senate was an integral part in the imperial con- 
 stitution. Nor would it have suffered so severely 
 at the hands of tyrannical Emperors had it not still 
 been capable of inspiring suspicion and fear. In 
 other words, it was a real, though constantly dimin- 
 ishing, power in the new constitution. 
 
 Augustus strove to make the Senate a select as- 
 sembly of rich men who should be compliant to his 
 will. He also endeavoured to create an aristocratic 
 order, a new senatorial nobility, in the modern sense 
 of the term. He gave the right of wearing the lati- 
 clave to the sons of senators and allowed them to 
 attend the meetings of the Senate in order that 
 they might become familiar in their early years 
 with the course of public business. Great import- 
 ance was attached to purity of birth. The laticlave 
 was granted to no one who could not shew pure 
 Roman descent for three generations ; the new mar- 
 riage laws prohibited the marriage of senators with 
 freed-women or actresses, and they were scrupul- 
 ously debarred from engaging in commercial pur- 
 suits. The army and the Senate — these were the 
 two main careers open to the members of Augustus's 
 new aristocracy. And by the side of the senatorial 
 nobility, Augustus reorganised the equestrian no- 
 bility as the second order in the State. Their pro- 
 perty qualification was fixed at 400,000 sesterces; 
 
1 88 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 their military character was both revised and revived, 
 and Augustus frequently reviewed their squadrons 
 in person. But the military duties of the order 
 were comparatively unimportant, except in so far 
 as the young knights supplied the legions with 
 mounted officers. The order itself owed its power 
 and influence to other considerations. To it be- 
 longed the great capitalists and from its ranks were 
 drawn most of the procurators and praefects who 
 did the main work of the Empire in the imperial 
 provinces. They did not seek for office and dignity 
 at Rome. They preferred, as a class, to let politics 
 alone, and though sometimes rich knights, who 
 possessed the requisite qualification, passed into the 
 senatorial order, the majority of them were well 
 content to remain where they were. For if mem- 
 bership of the Senate conferred additional dignity, 
 it also entailed additional burdens and correspond- 
 ing expenses, and the typical knight preferred less 
 dignity and more freedom. Not for him, as Cicero 
 had eloquently declaimed, in his speech on behalf of 
 Cluentius, were the locus, auctoritas, domi splendory 
 apud exteras nationes nomen et gratia, toga prcetexta, 
 sella curtilis, fasces^ irnperia, provincics, which were 
 rightly enjoyed by the senatorial order in return for 
 the public burdens which they undertook. The 
 knights eschewed these burdens and sacrificed their 
 chance of attaining to these distinctions, in order 
 that they might live their own " tranquil and quiet 
 life *' and devote themselves to business. Less was 
 expected of them by the public ; they even claimed 
 to be judged by a less exalted standard of moral 
 
■•■?■'■ 
 
 ^1 
 
 I I 
 
 r; 
 
 
 ^•~' -'^OLv^^N'^*' 
 
 
 V.^(LW OV NNCS^^Mj. 
 
 * '^ai'l 
 
 m^m .I'lTtl,,,. '-^ •■ ifetiti^ 
 
 REMAINS OF THE ARCH OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
 FROM LANCIANI'S " NEW TALES OF OLD ROME." 
 
Theory of the Principate 
 
 rectitude. But under Augustus and his successors 
 the knights were the chief pillar of the Principate. 
 They wanted a strong, stable, resolute government, 
 and this the Empire gave them. In return they 
 gave the Empire their loyal support and a constant 
 supply of able and experienced administrators. 
 
 When we pass from the senators and the knights 
 to ask how the old popular assemblies of the Repub- 
 lic fared under the new regime, we are confronted 
 once again by the difficulty of reconcihng theory 
 with practice. Suetonius declares in the most pre- 
 cise language that Augustus restored the comitia to 
 their ancient status : ** Comitiorum quoqiie pristinum 
 jus reduxitr He increased the penalties against 
 bribery and himself distributed largesse among his 
 own tribesmen on election days that they might not 
 look for bribes from any of the candidates for office. 
 We are also told that he introduced a plan whereby 
 citizens dwelling at a distance might record their 
 votes and have them carried to Rome in ballot 
 boxes in time for the election. Yet nothing is more 
 certain than that Augustus detested popular rule as 
 mob-rule, and that he paved the way for the first act 
 of his successor, Tiberius, who transferred the elec- 
 tions from the comitia to the Senate. There was 
 no room in his scheme for a sovereign people. He 
 might reorganise the comitia in outward form, but 
 he took from them every shred of real power. They 
 still assembled to elect the yearly magistrates, but 
 they rarely had free choice of candidates. The 
 powers of nomination and commendation exercised 
 by the Princeps made the proceedings almost, if 
 
I go Augustus Ccesar 
 
 not quite, a solemn farce. The legislative functions 
 of the comitia suffered a like fate. They remained 
 untouched in theory, but the leges and plebiscita 
 passed by the populus and the plebs grew rarer and 
 rarer, and no measures were submitted to them, 
 which had not been carefully drafted beforehand by 
 the higher authorities. Thus, though the comitia 
 still survived and the decorous ceremonial attaching 
 to their meetings was even more carefully preserved 
 than it had been under the Republic, their real 
 power had vanished beyond recall, even before the 
 death of Augustus. Nor can it be pretended that 
 this was a loss to the world, especially as regards 
 the legislative authority which once reposed in the 
 sovereign Roman people. The whole idea of the 
 comitia was based upon the conception of a small 
 city-state and was only suitable for the requirements 
 of such a community. Rome itself, to say nothing 
 of the larger Roman world, had outgrown institu- 
 tions which, according to modern ideas, were only 
 fit for a parish. It was preposterous that the affairs 
 of an Empire should be directed by mass-meetings 
 in the Forum or the Campus Martius. The only 
 practicable reform was to sweep the comitia away. 
 
 It followed as a natural result of the destruction 
 of the real powers of the people that the tribunes, 
 who were the special guardians of the popular rights, 
 should suffer a like extinction. They were still 
 elected, but their occupation was gone when the 
 tribunicia potestas of the Princeps was the principal 
 weapon in the armoury of absolutism. The tribunate 
 remained a great name, and it doubtless flattered 
 
Theory of the Principate 191 
 
 the pride of many a tribune in Imperial times to re- 
 member that the office had once conferred sacrosanc- 
 tity upon its possessor. Yet, after his year of office 
 was over, he probably agreed with the younger 
 Pliny that its dignity was the shadow of a shade: 
 '• Inanis umbra et sine ho7iore nomenr Almost cer- 
 tainly, therefore, the tribunes " knew the change and 
 felt it" more intimately and closely than the other 
 magisterial colleges. With the rest the process of 
 decay was more gradual. The consulship continued 
 to retain its supreme dignity ; the praetors still pre- 
 sided over the civil jurisdiction ; the qusestors, re- 
 duced in number to twenty, — Julius had raised them 
 to forty, — were still the chief financial officials of 
 the treasury ; the sediles, though some of their prin- 
 cipal duties were now taken away from them, still 
 performed what may be described as the vestry work 
 of the capital. 
 
 But by their side there arose a group of new Im- 
 perial offices which speedily overshadowed all the 
 older magistracies, with the possible exception of 
 the consulship. These were the four great Imperial 
 Praefectures, the appointments to which were made 
 by the Princeps alone. The first was the Praefecture 
 of the City, a post usually filled by a man of consu- 
 lar rank. It was his duty to keep public order, and 
 act as Chief Commissioner of PoHce. Three cohorts, 
 stationed in Rome but without fixed barracks, were 
 placed under his command. He was also a magis- 
 trate with both civil and criminal jurisdiction, and 
 he controlled the theatres and the various religious 
 and trading guilds. In the absence of the Princeps 
 
192 Augustus CcEsar 
 
 he was responsible for all that took place in the 
 capital and was possessed of practically unlimited 
 powers, though an appeal always lay from his de- 
 cisions to the Princeps himself. The second great 
 Praefecture was that of the Praetorian Guard. This 
 was the body-guard of the Princeps, a picked force 
 which enjoyed special privileges and pay, and its 
 commander stood high in the Emperor's confidence. 
 During the reign of Augustus little is heard of 
 this office, which subsequently became even more 
 important than the Praefecture of the City when 
 the stability of the throne came to depend upon the 
 loyalty of the Praetorians and their Praefect. The 
 third Praefecture was that of the corn supply. Un- 
 der the Republic the whole college of aediles had 
 had charge of this duty, but they had mismanaged 
 it and Julius had appointed special aediles to look 
 after nothing else. It was found, however, to be 
 beyond the capacity of minor officials and, after 
 sundry experiments, Augustus accepted the respon- 
 sibility himself and appointed a Prcefectus annonce, 
 whose duty it was to see that the corn supply did 
 not fall short, that it was placed on the market at a 
 reasonable price, and that the poorer citizens regu- 
 larly received their gratuitous doles of wheat. Finally 
 there was the Praefecture of the Watch, Prcefectura 
 Vigilum. The duties of this official were similar 
 to those of the Praefect of the City, though on a 
 minor scale. His police patrolled the streets at 
 night, and under his direction was placed the newly 
 instituted fire-brigade, divided among the several 
 wards of Rome. 
 
Theory of the Principate 193 
 
 Then, in addition to these four Prgefectures, Au- 
 gustus established a host of minor officials bearing 
 the title of cttratores. It was, says Suetonius, his 
 policy to create an extensive bureaucracy in order to 
 give as many people as possible some slight share 
 in the administration. Qiioque plures partem admhi- 
 istrandce reipublicce caperent, nova officia excogitavit. 
 Hence his Curators of the Italian highways, his 
 Board of Works, his Tiber Conservancy Board, his 
 Water Supply Committee. We may see in the ap- 
 pointment of these curatorships, charged with spe- 
 cific duties, the new spirit of order which Augustus 
 introduced into the administration to secure efificiency 
 and regularity. And there is no possible doubt that 
 the new Boards performed their multifarious duties 
 far more efficiently than they had been performed 
 under the haphazard and ill-defined arrangements of 
 the Republic. The Emperor's motto in municipal, 
 as in imperial, affairs was the one word *' Order." 
 So, too, with the reorganisation which Augustus 
 carried out in Italy. He divided the whole penin- 
 sula, exclusive of Rome itself, into eleven districts 
 [regiones). The authorities are curiously silent as 
 to- this reform, but there is good reason to suppose 
 that the new arrangement was made solely for pur- 
 poses of financial administration and that it did not 
 imply any interference with the local self-govern- 
 ment of the districts, though in later times that 
 autonomy was ruthlessly swept away. Certainly 
 for more than a century the Italian cities, colonics, 
 and municipia alike, enjoyed the free exercise of 
 their democratic constitutions long after such liberty 
 
194 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 had been lost in Rome. Their comitia continued 
 to be held as before to elect their duumvirs, their 
 sediles, and their qusestors. The local Senates, con- 
 tinued to control their municipal affairs without 
 interference from the central government, and local 
 life and local patriotism were even more keen and 
 vigorous than they had been in the days of the 
 Republic. Juvenal might jeer at the tattered robes 
 of the sediles of Ulubrse, but the extraordinary pub- 
 lic spirit which pervaded the Italian townships, the 
 zest with which the local magistracies were sought 
 after, and the lavish way in which these magistrates 
 ruined their private fortunes in building temples, 
 baths, and porticoes — the cost of which in our days 
 is thrown upon the rates — disclose an amount of 
 local patriotism which may Avell awake the envy of 
 the modern municipal reformer. Honore contentus, 
 impensam remisit — the open-handed liberality of 
 the Italian magistrate to his native place was not 
 confined to the erection of public buildings but ex- 
 tended in many instances to the repair of the public 
 highways and the improvement of the local water 
 supply. It was only in Rome itself that the Prin- 
 cipate destroyed public liberty and public spirit. 
 Elsewhere it stimulated them to renewed vigour. 
 
 Such then was the general outline of the new con- 
 stitution. But the reign of Augustus was long, and 
 the constitution, as fixed in B.C. 27 and again in B.C. 
 23, was profoundly modified before his death, in 
 A.D. 14. The scheme of co-ordinated authority be- 
 tween Princeps and Senate proved unworkable in 
 practice, simply because the two powers did not 
 
Theory of the Principate 195 
 
 start on equal terms. Insensibly the prestige of the 
 Princeps and his officers tended to thrust into the 
 background the prestige of the Senate and its offi- 
 cers. The strong increased in strength; the weak 
 grew weaker. Before Augustus died the Principate 
 had ceased to be a magistracy within the RepubHc, 
 for the Princeps had founded a dynasty, and the 
 Empire was an accomplished fact. This was not 
 acknowledged in theory, as the attitude of Tiberius 
 towards the Senate and that of the Senate towards 
 Tiberius clearly proved, when each waited for the 
 other to make a declaration of policy and feared to 
 commit a false move. But practically the Senate 
 admitted that the dyarchy had fallen to the ground 
 and that there could be but one real master in the 
 Roman world, namely, the heir of Augustus and 
 the lord of the legions. 
 
 Augustus received the tribiiniciapotestas in B.C. 23. 
 At that moment his popularity was at its height and 
 it remained unimpaired for many years. There were, 
 indeed, a few Republicans left who regretted the 
 change and were rash enough to intrigue against 
 him. But throughout his entire reign Augustus 
 was little troubled by conspiracies. Fannius Caepio 
 and Licinius Murena, who plotted against him in 
 B.C. 22, were condemned in their absence and shortly 
 afterwards put to death. Three years later, Egna- 
 tius Rufus, Plautius Rufus, and Lucius Paulus en- 
 gaged in a similarly hopeless conspiracy, and were 
 crushed with equal promptitude by the Consul 
 Lucius Sentius. The only other serious conspiracy 
 with which Augustus had to deal was hatched twenty 
 
196 Augustus CcBsai' 
 
 years later by Cnaeus Cornelius Cinna. Augustus 
 not only pardoned his enemy but restored him to 
 favour, and conferred upon him the consulship. 
 ''You may be assured," said the Emperor in ad- 
 dressing the culprit, " that it is not I alone who 
 stand in your way if your ambition is to fill my 
 place ; neither the Paulli nor the Cossi, neither the 
 Fabii nor the Servilii, will allow you to exercise dom- 
 ination over them." However, the popularity of 
 Augustus is best shewn not by the negative evid- 
 ence that there were but few conspiracies against 
 him — that is testimony rather to his vigilance — 
 but by the extraordinary manifestation of public 
 feeling which took place in the year B.C. 22. No 
 sooner had he lain down the consulship than Rome 
 was visited by famine and pestilence, while the Tiber 
 overflowed its banks and washed away a number of 
 temples in the low-lying parts of the city. This 
 seems to have been interpreted by the superstitious 
 citizens as proof that the gods were displeased at 
 Augustus's retirement from the consulship, and a 
 tumult followed, in which the people snatched the 
 fasces from the lictors of the Consuls and threat- 
 ened to burn down the Curia unless the senators 
 agreed to appoint the popular idol dictator for life. 
 Then followed a most curious scene. For Augustus 
 confronted the mob, threw off his toga from his 
 shoulders, and, with bared breast and bended knee, 
 deprecated the honour which they sought to thrust 
 upon him. The dictatorship, he said, v.'as a hated 
 office which had been solemnly abolished because of 
 the tyrannous uses to which it had been put ; would 
 
Theory of the Principate 1 9 7 
 
 they force it upon one whose sole care was to be the 
 servant of the State ? The utmost he would con- 
 sent to accept was to take personal charge of the 
 corn supply, in order to relieve the existing distress, 
 and to appoint — for the last time — two citizen-cen- 
 sors, who, under his direction, should set the moral 
 affairs of the Roman people in order. The scene 
 was merely a solemn piece of hypocrisy so far as 
 Augustus was concerned ; but it at least proved that 
 the people looked up to him as their only possible 
 ruler and protector. 
 
 An equally significant episode took place a few 
 months later while Augustus was in Sicily. At the 
 consular comitia for the ensuing year the people 
 elected him Consul and gave him LoUius as a col- 
 league. When Augustus refused the honour and 
 ordered a new election, the intrigues of the rival 
 candidates led to public disturbances, which neces- 
 sitated the return of Agrippa to Rome. A similar 
 tumult arose at the following elections when the 
 people again insisted upon choosing Augustus with 
 Sentius Saturninus, and, upon his declining the hon- 
 our a second time, the disorder in Rome became so 
 serious that the Senate declared the State to be in 
 danger, and passed the usual formula clothing Sen- 
 tius with supreme authority. Sentius, however, was 
 too wary to assume powers which might seem treas- 
 onable in the eyes of Augustus and he induced the 
 senators to rescind their resolution and send envoys 
 to Augustus to ask him to help them out of their 
 difficulty. Sharply rebuking them for their in- 
 capacity to keep the peace in Rome, Augustus 
 
98 
 
 Attgustus CcEsar 
 
 consented to nominate a second Consul to act with 
 Sentius and the storm blew over. But it left the 
 Senate weaker and the Princeps stronger than be- 
 fore. Augustus, on his return from Asia in B.C. 19, 
 instituted the Praefecture of the City as a definite 
 office, and thenceforward, even in the Emperor's 
 absence, there were no disturbances in Rome. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 AUGUSTUS AS A SOCIAL AND RELIGIOUS 
 REFORMER 
 
 ROME, indeed, had good reason to keep the 
 peace. Augustus's yoke lay heavy upon no 
 single class. Among the old oHgarchical fam- 
 ilies, there were comparatively few who possessed 
 either the obstinacy of a Cato or the philosophical 
 Republicanism of a Brutus. These remained sul- 
 lenly aloof ; the rest acquiesced. The knights ac- 
 cepted the altered conditions with enthusiasm. And 
 if the people had lost their ancient political liberty 
 they gave no sign that they lamented the loss. 
 
 It is customary to denounce the Roman populace 
 of the time of Augustus as degenerate and degraded, 
 as ** the dregs of Romulus " and as " a starveling and 
 contemptible mob." But exaggeration is natural to 
 the partisan. Rome was a vast cosmopolitan city, 
 just as is London or New York. If it was " a sink 
 of the nations," so are these. Like them, it had 
 its quota of destitute aliens and pauper citizens, 
 wretched beings who herded together in the slums 
 and whose lives were sordid, brutish, and mean. 
 This is a universal, if not an inevitable, feature of 
 
 199 
 
200 Atigustus CcEsar 
 
 all metropolitan cities, and the system of slavery, 
 upon which the Roman civilisation was based, 
 doubtless intensified the evil. The pauper Romans 
 had no more exalted views of the moral dignity of 
 political freedom than any other populace. Pro- 
 vided they were fed and amused, and their preju- 
 dices were respected, they were willing enough to 
 accept a master who, " though he ruled them, yet 
 concealed the rule." To keep them in good humour 
 was the policy of Augustus and all his successors. 
 But Augustus did not originate this policy. Their 
 own leaders and the popular party had long before 
 begun the grain distributions which, more than any- 
 thing else, had tended to create a lazy proletariate. 
 The spectacles, the games, and the theatres were, 
 in their origin, RepubHcan and not Imperial institu- 
 tions. These were now celebrated on a more mag- 
 nificent scale than ever, for the appetite comes in 
 eating, and the citizens who thronged the free seats 
 of the amphitheatres grew to consider their amuse- 
 ments the most serious occupation of their idle 
 lives. 
 
 The demoralising effects of the corn distributions, 
 the periodical largesses of money, the continual pub- 
 lic festivals, games, and entertainments in the circus 
 and the theatres are beyond denial. Augustus was 
 sensible of the evil which they wrought, but he soon 
 realised that it was impossible to eradicate it. He 
 confessed on one occasion that he had entertained 
 the idea of abolishing for ever the public distribu- 
 tions of corn, because the fields of Italy were going 
 out of cultivation, but that he had abandoned it be- 
 
Augustus as a Reformer 20 1 
 
 cause he knew that, when he was gone, someone 
 would be certain to reintroduce the practice in order 
 to gain popularity. He found himself obliged to 
 make repeated largesses, varying in amount from 
 250 to 400 sesterces per head, and he gave even boys 
 under eleven the right to participate therein. But 
 when the citizens clamoured for a largesse which 
 had not been promised, he issued an edict sharply 
 reprimanding their insolence ; when they complained 
 of the scarcity and high price of wine he reminded 
 them that his son-in-law, Agrippa, had provided an 
 adequate water supply and that they had, therefore, 
 no excuse for being thirsty. Nevertheless, the pro- 
 cess of degeneration was painfully rapid. Thou- 
 sands of citizens thought it no shame to receive 
 daily their doles of food, which they fetched in bas- 
 kets from the houses of the rich patrons to whom 
 they attached them.selves. They might be ragged, 
 but they looked down with supreme contempt upon 
 the freedmen who formed the shop-keeping classes. 
 Their pride was unwounded by a charity which in 
 their eyes carried with it no pauper taint. 
 
 Augustus did his best to restore a healthier public 
 feeling. He devoted his whole energies to the task 
 of recreating the old pubhc spirit of Rome and iden- 
 tifying it with the maintenance of the new constitu- 
 tion. And he began by making the metropolitan 
 city itself worthy of the Empire of which it was the 
 centre. During his reign Rome was in great meas- 
 ure rebuilt. It was his famous boast that he found 
 it a city of brick and left it a city of marble : '* Urbem 
 marmorcam se relinquere quant later iciam accepissetT 
 
202 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 The boast was not an idle one. His Board of Pub- 
 lic Works enjoyed no rest. The number of great 
 pubHc buildings erected under his supervision will 
 compare favourably with the record of any monarch, 
 either before or after his time. First and foremost 
 was the new Forum. The old one, even with the 
 additions made to it by Julius, was far too small to 
 accomodate the crowd of citizens and the courts of 
 law which held their sittings within it. Augustus 
 now greatly extended it, but even he was confronted 
 by so many difficulties in appropriating the ground 
 required that the north-eastern corner had to be 
 adapted to the irregular outlines of the adjoining 
 streets. In the Julian Forum stood the stately tem- 
 ple to Venus Genetrix, commenced in fulfilment of 
 a vow made during the battle of Pharsalus and com- 
 pleted by Augustus after Caesar's death. In the new 
 Forum there arose the magnificent temple to Mars 
 the Avenger, vowed by Augustus himself during the 
 battle of Philippi, and regarded by him with special 
 veneration. It was in this building that the Senate 
 henceforth met when the subject of debate was 
 either the prosecution of a war or the bestowal of a 
 triumph ; it was from this hallowed spot that the 
 provincial governors started to take up their com- 
 mands, and hither that conquering generals brought 
 their trophies of victory. But this was by no means 
 the only temple which owed its foundation to Au- 
 gustus. He erected the temple to Thundering Ju- 
 piter on the Capitol to commemorate his narrow 
 escape from being struck by lightning in Spain, and 
 the great temple of Apollo on the Palatine as a 
 
TEMPLE OF MARS ULTOR. 
 FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY ALINARI. 
 
Augtistus as a Reformer 203 
 
 thank-offering for '' the crowning mercy " of Actium. 
 This, which was one of the earliest marble temples 
 of Rome, was filled with the choicest examples of 
 Grecian art. Magnificent colonnades connected it 
 with two adjoining marble halls, containing the first 
 public library of the city, wherein were placed the 
 writings of all the best Greek and Latin authors. 
 
 Augustus's own residence stood upon the Pala- 
 tine. He had been born in his father's modest 
 mansion on this hill, which contained so many 
 memorials of early Rome, and, after spending a few 
 years in a dwelHng near the Forum, he returned to 
 the Palatine, and occupied the house which had 
 previously belonged to Hortensius, Cicero's great 
 rival at the bar. There he remained more than 
 forty years, and the simple tastes of the master of 
 the world did not disdain a mansion which made 
 no pretensions to style and magnificence, and could 
 not boast a single marble pillar or elaborately tes- 
 selated floor. When it was destroyed by fire in 
 B. C. 6, the citizens insisted that it should be re- 
 built upon a scale more consonant with the dignity 
 of its owner's position. We are told that Augustus 
 refused to accept more than a single denarius from 
 each individual subscriber, and, if the statement of 
 Dion Cassius is to be beHeved, when the palace was 
 completed he allowed the public free access thereto, 
 and affected to regard it as belonging to the State 
 rather than to himself. Close at hand, too, rose the 
 magnificent palace of Livia, chosen by Tiberius for 
 his own residence when he succeeded to the throne, 
 and the Palatine thus became indissolubly associated 
 
204 AugicsUis Ccesar 
 
 with the Imperial House. Other public works, 
 which were carried out by Augustus but were dedi- 
 cated in the names of members of his family, were 
 the portico and basiHca of Caius and Lucius, his 
 grandsons, the porticoes of the Empress Livia and 
 his sister Octavia, and the handsome theatre of Mar- 
 cellus, which contained seats for twenty thousand 
 spectators. 
 
 Augustus encouraged others to follow his ex- 
 ample. The erection of a fine pubHc building was 
 a certain passport to his favour. Marcus Philippus, 
 his kinsman, raised a temple to Hercules ; Lucius 
 Cornificius to Diana, and Munatius Plancus to 
 Saturn. Cornelius Balbus gave the city a theatre 
 with accommodation for eleven thousand specta- 
 tors ; Asinius Pollio built a Hall which he boldly 
 dedicated to Liberty ; Statilius Taurus lavished his 
 resources upon a splendid amphitheatre. But the 
 chief patron of architecture, who rivalled even the 
 Emperor himself, was Marcus Agrippa. He gave 
 Rome magnificent public baths on the Greek model, 
 adapted to Roman requirements, which served as 
 the pattern for the later baths built by Titus and 
 Caracalla. They were profusely decorated with the 
 finest sculpture and paintings, and the benefactor 
 not only constructed the baths, but also the aque- 
 duct, known as the Aqua Virgo, which supplied 
 them with water. Close by he had raised the glo- 
 rious Pantheon ; and near at hand was the temple 
 of Poseidon, founded to commemorate his many 
 naval victories, and containing, like the Pantheon, 
 the noblest statuary which the times were capable 
 
< I 
 
 2 s 
 
 O o 
 
 LU O 
 
Atigustus as a Reformer 205 
 
 of producing. These three buildings were the prin- 
 cipal gifts of Agrippa, but they by no means repre- 
 sent the full extent of his well-directed generosity. 
 The architecture of Rome in Augustus's day is a 
 subject beyond the scope of this work, but the few 
 buildings we have enumerated will suffice to show 
 that the reconstruction and adornment of the city 
 were carried on without intermission. Nor did 
 Augustus neglect works of public utility. The em- 
 bankments of the Tiber, the repair of the great 
 roads, and the provision of new aqueducts, were as 
 carefully attended to as the plans for new temples 
 and new theatres. He voluntarily took upon him- 
 self the expense of keeping in repair the Flaminian 
 Way as far as Ariminum, while the charge of the 
 other highroads was divided among those of his gen- 
 erals who were accorded the honours of a triumph, 
 to be defrayed by them from the sale of the spoils 
 which they had taken in war. In short, Augustus 
 sought to make Rome outwardly worthy of her 
 great imperial position, and to foster the pride 
 which the Romans took in the Queen of Cities. 
 The home of the race which wore the toga was to 
 excite the admiration of the world ; the grandeur of 
 its public buildings was to serve as proof of its 
 majesty, its prosperity, and its permanence. 
 
 The grandeur of Rome as it rose anew into fresh 
 life after the long series of civil wars — this, too, was 
 the constant theme of the poets whom Augustus 
 gathered round him. He wished to convince the 
 world that his marvellous success was due to the 
 direct favour of Heaven, that the regime he had 
 
2o6 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 established was the preordained event to which 
 Rome and the Romans had been slowly moving 
 during the long centuries of their history, that the 
 blessing of the gods rested upon him and his work. 
 We need not doubt his sincerity. All things in his 
 case had worked together for good, and when he stood 
 forward as the champion of the old religious spirit 
 which was part and parcel of the Roman tempera- 
 ment, he came nearer to absolute sincerity than he 
 did in most of his poHtical institutions. The restor- 
 ation of the Roman religion became one of the rul- 
 ing passions of his life, not only because he knew 
 that the Empire he was founding would be all the 
 stronger for resting upon a religious basis and for 
 the support of a religious sanction, but because he 
 himself was religiously minded. We have seen how 
 he raised magnificent new temples to his special 
 tutelar divinities in recognition of their powerful and 
 timely assistance. Throughout his reign he was al- 
 ways ready to head a subscription list for the repair 
 of an ancient fane. " Templornm positor, templorum 
 sancte repostor' — thus Ovid addresses him in the 
 Fasti as the founder of new shrines and the re- 
 storer of the old, not in Rome alone, but through- 
 out Italy and the provinces. The blessing of the 
 gods was a real thing to Augustus, an object to 
 be secured at any cost. He had allowed Lepidus to 
 retain the dignified office of Chief Pontiff until his 
 death in B.C. 12 ; then he himself assumed the Pon- 
 tificate and became the active head both of Church 
 and State. In all matters connected with religion 
 there was no one more conservative or more na- 
 
Augustus as a Refor77ier 207 
 
 tional than he. While tolerating the alien cults 
 and new-fangled superstitions which had invaded 
 Rome, he reserved his most liberal patronage for 
 what was venerable and of native growth. He col- 
 lected the prophetical books, both Latin and Greek, 
 and burnt them all, keeping none but the Sibylline, 
 which he placed in two golden coffers under the 
 pedestal of the statue of the Palatine Apollo. He 
 increased the number of the sacred colleges, added 
 to their dignities, swelled their endowments, and be- 
 stowed marks of special favour upon the Vestal Vir- 
 gins. Ancient priestly foundations and ceremonies 
 which had fallen upon evil days, such as the Augury 
 of the Public Welfare, the Priesthood of Jupiter, the 
 Festival of the Lupercalia, and the Secular and Com- 
 pitalician Games, he refounded and reorganised. He 
 restored the worship of the Lares, the minor deities 
 of the street and the home, by raising three hund- 
 red little shrines at the crossways and street cor- 
 ners of the city, and by ordering that twice a year, 
 in spring and summer, their modest altars should be 
 adorned with flowers. Due honour to the gods, 
 both great and small, such was the cardinal prin- 
 ciple of Augustus, in dealing with religion. 
 
 And he had his reward, for the religion of Rome 
 struck new roots deep into the life of the Roman 
 people. It is one of the strangest facts in his- 
 tory that just at the period when there was born in 
 Palestine the founder of Christianity, which was de- 
 stined to destroy Paganism, there should have taken 
 place so marked a revival of the old religion. Its 
 genuineness is beyond argument. We have only to 
 
2o8 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 take note of the number of ruined temples, of the 
 decay of the sacerdotal colleges, of the contempt- 
 uous and sceptical attitude of Cicero towards the 
 State religion to see how low it had fallen in the last 
 days of the Republic. It is true that when Cicero 
 refers to religion in his public speeches he sounds a 
 different note and speaks with sonorous, yet purely 
 formal, respect of the gods of Rome. But in his 
 philosophical writings he is a sceptic of the sceptics ; 
 in his letters religion scarce finds a mention. If he 
 needs consolation in distress, or hope in time of 
 trouble he does not turn to the altars of the gods 
 for comfort or courage. But in the early days of 
 the Empire a profound change takes place. The 
 gods enjoy a new lease of life. Men not only 
 worship, they almost believe. They are prosper- 
 ous again and they joyously lead victims to the 
 altars. 
 
 This was not the work of Augustus alone, though 
 it was Augustus who had lifted the deep depression 
 which had settled down upon the people and re- 
 stored gaiety and happiness to a world exhausted 
 by war. It may be doubted whether he could have 
 succeeded single-handed ; whether the poet did not 
 achieve more than the statesman. That poet, of 
 course, was Virgil. His wonderful and instantane- 
 ous popularity may be explained in part by the exqui- 
 site music and cadences of his verse, by the charm 
 and graces of his style, and by the dignity of his 
 theme. But the great secret of the power which he 
 wielded over his contemporaries and over the ages 
 which were to follow lies not so much in this as 
 
Augustus as a Reformer 209 
 
 in his moral earnestness and in the spirit of hu- 
 manity and reHgion which permeates his work. 
 To regard him simply as a court poet, because he 
 laboured in the same field as Augustus and furthered 
 his projects, because he enjoyed the Imperial favour 
 and wove into his poetry passages in which he eulo- 
 gised the Imperial House, is to fail to understand 
 both the man and his work. It was Horace who 
 was the typical court poet, the debonair man of the 
 world who could write religious and birthday odes 
 to order, in polished stanzas which appealed to the 
 ear, but not to the heart. Virgil stood on a loftier 
 pedestal. Deep religion and intense burning patriot- 
 ism — in these lie the secret of Virgil's influence. 
 And in his view they were inextricably intertwined. 
 He looked back with regret to the bygone days when 
 men lived simpler lives, and not only feared, but 
 walked with, the gods. 
 
 '' Fortunatus at ille decs qui novit agrestes, 
 Panaque, Silvanumque senem, Nymphasque sorores. 
 
 In one sense the Georgics may be regarded as 
 a political pamphlet, inasmuch as Augustus had al- 
 ready raised the cry of ** Back to the Land," and 
 was seeking to revive agriculture throughout Italy. 
 He did not succeed. He failed to stem the influx 
 of the rural population into the towns, just as every 
 succeeding statesman who has sought to grapple 
 with the same problem has failed also. 
 
 '* A bold peasantry, a country's pride, 
 
 Once lost, can never be supplied." 
 14 
 
2IO Augustus CcBsar 
 
 The causes lay too deep for remedy, and the work- 
 ing of economic laws could not be suspended by the 
 publication of an edict or a didactic poem. The old 
 rural life was moribund, if not dead. The import 
 of foreign corn, distributed either gratuitously or at 
 an artificially reduced price, killed Italian agricult- 
 ure. Yet, the Georgics had their due effect upon 
 men*s beliefs. Universally read and universally ad- 
 mired as they were, they contributed their part to 
 the religious revival in the country districts. They 
 were rather a tract for the times than a political 
 pamphlet, a reminder to the farmer of the supreme 
 dignity of his labour and of the sure blessing that 
 would rest upon him if he remembered the gods. 
 ** Above all, venerate the gods" — '^imprimis ven- 
 erare deos " — that was the solemn charge of the 
 Georgics. And the ^neid again was essentially a 
 religious and national poem. The gods of Virgil's 
 Olympus are different from those of Homer's. They 
 are more idealised, less fleshly, less mortal in their 
 passions and their vices. There is a subtle touch of 
 mysticism in the Roman poet which is absent from 
 the Greek. Virgil leaves them as more shadowy 
 beings, more remote from human affairs, more wor- 
 thy of reverence because less frankly conceived on 
 the human pattern. They rule the affairs of men in 
 accordance with the decrees of fate, and the supreme 
 virtue man can show is piety, that is to say, instant 
 obedience to the divine will, when declared, and due 
 observance of all religious ceremonies. And the re- 
 ward of such piety? Clearly this was manifest in 
 the continued favour of Heaven which had made 
 
Augustus as a Reformer 2 1 1 
 
 Rome the mistress of the world. It would require 
 a lengthy analysis of the poem to shew how Virgil 
 expressed in his verse his conception of the duties as 
 well as of the privileges of empire and his lofty view 
 of Rome's civilising mission ; how by his masterly 
 employment of local colour and local legends he 
 sought to bind together Rome and Italy in one 
 common patriotism ; how he crystallised in the Sixth 
 Book the best thoughts of his time about the im- 
 mortality of the soul and life after death, and grafted 
 them on to the national religion : and how skilfully 
 he represented Augustus as the lineal heir and de- 
 scendant of the hero of his epic. The Sibylline 
 Books might continue to be the Law and the Pro- 
 phets of Paganism, but Virgil had caused a new spirit 
 to pass over men's ideas of the gods. The old re- 
 ligion glowed with a new life. The forms of certain 
 of the deities whom they worshipped might be gro- 
 tesque ; the legends puerile. But a loftier and nobler 
 conception of the Divinity and of worship came to 
 be taught by the philosophers, who from this time for- 
 ward combined religion with philosophy, instead of 
 elevating the latter to the detriment of the former. 
 This was the fruit of the new revival begun by Au- 
 gustus and Virgil, and thus, when Christianity came 
 to grips with Paganism, it found existing by the side 
 of the official and State religion a real and living re- 
 ligious spirit which expressed itself in a language 
 similar to its own. Augustus might be disheartened 
 at the open profligacy of the capital and the irre- 
 ligion of the upper classes, but the revival of religion 
 throughout the Empire was none the less real. 
 
212 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 This religious revival, however, assumed another 
 and equally important shape. It encouraged the 
 growth of Caesar-worship. This has frequently been 
 summarily dismissed as though it were merely a fan- 
 tastic and abnormal form of worship, foisted upon 
 an incredulous world by Augustus and his successors. 
 Nothing could be further from the truth. It was, 
 on the contrary, in its inception an essentially natu- 
 ral development which Augustus at first sought to 
 repress rather than to foster. It started in the East, 
 where the Greeks, to shew their gratitude and loy- 
 alty, raised temples in his honour, just as they had 
 raised them to the pro-Consuls of the Republic. 
 Augustus refused deification while he still lived, but 
 he permitted his Eastern subjects to associate his 
 numen with that of the city of Rome, and temples 
 were accordingly raised '* to Rome and Augustus." 
 This came perilously near to deification, but the dis- 
 tinction which seems so slight to the modern eye 
 was then considered real. The fact, however, that 
 Augustus forbade even this association of his own 
 personal genius with that of Rome in the capi- 
 tal and throughout Italy shews that the idea was 
 un-Roman. He melted down the silver statues 
 which had been erected to him in the peninsula and 
 with the proceeds dedicated some golden tripods to 
 the Palatine Apollo. But though the deification or 
 quasi-deification of a living man might be un-Ro- 
 man, the apotheosis of the dead wounded the re- 
 ligious susceptibilities of none. If Romulus after his 
 death had become divine, why should not the sec- 
 ond founder of Rome be equally assured of a place 
 
Attgtisttis as a Reformer 213 
 
 among the immortals and have an equal tract of sky 
 allotted to him? Thus when Augustus permitted a 
 temple to be raised to Divus Julius, he was prepar- 
 ing the way for his own apotheosis after death. 
 Nor was this repugnant to the religious instinct of 
 his time. To a people accustomed to the cult of 
 ancestor-worship and hero-worship, the immediate 
 apotheosis of the dead ruler or statesman was easy 
 of belief, and if in the twentieth century so large 
 a proportion of mankind see nothing incredible 
 in the canonisation of a saint or in the idealism 
 which speaks of *' the sacred Majesty of Kings," 
 we need hardly be surprised that the people of the 
 first century transformed their dead Emperors into 
 gods. 
 
 The Crown is the strongest bond of union between 
 the component parts of the British Empire to-day ; 
 the Emperor was the strongest bond of union be- 
 tween the component parts of the Empire of Rome. 
 The feeling grew in intensity from year to year, and 
 Augustus eventually recognised that the identifica- 
 tion of himself with Rome and the Empire for pur- 
 poses of public worship, the close union, that is to 
 say, of Church and State, was a source of incalcula- 
 ble strength to the Principate. He would have 
 failed in statesmanship, therefore, had he not en- 
 couraged this idea and given it definite shape. 
 What stouter link could be forged between the 
 throne and the army upon which it rested than 
 that of religion? ** It is religion," said Seneca, 
 " which keeps the army together." "'Primum militice 
 vinculmn est religio!' The altar of the reigning 
 
2 14 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 Emperor, which stood in every Roman camp, repre- 
 sented more to the legionary than the altar of the 
 king of the gods. So, too, in the provinces the altar 
 of Augustus became the focus of national life. It 
 was there that the provincial diets met and offered 
 sacrifice to the dead Emperors and incense to the 
 7iiimen of the living Prince. It was there that they 
 gathered on the Emperor's birthday and prayed for 
 his safety and that of Rome. Rightly considered, 
 Caesar-worship was far from being a degrading su- 
 perstition. The new cult, with its priests and high 
 priests chosen from the leading families, was in its 
 essence a public acknowledgment of the debt which 
 the provinces owed to the Empire, a sincere expres- 
 sion of loyalty to a political principle. The Em- 
 peror of the day might be a bloodthirsty tyrant or 
 an odious wretch, but the provincials never ques- 
 tioned the blessings which the Empire had conferred 
 upon them. 
 
 During his lifetime the genius of Augustus was 
 principally associated in Rome and Italy with the 
 worship of the Lares which he had taken pains to re- 
 vive, and the old magistri vicorum took the name of 
 magistri Augustales. Throughout Italy the cult 
 spread with amazing rapidity. A new religious 
 order arose, known as the or do August alium, whose 
 members were not priests and exercised no priestly 
 functions, for they seem to have been principally 
 composed of freedmen. Yet they were granted cer- 
 tain insignia of office, and membership was eagerly 
 sought after, for it gave the rich freedman the digni- 
 tas which the accident of birth had denied to him. 
 
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 DC w 
 
 CO S 
 
 3 z 
 
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 CO 
 
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 L. < 
 
Augustus as a Reformer 215 
 
 Closely connected with this religious revival was 
 Augustus's poHcy of social reform. Here again we 
 see the essential conservatism of the man and his 
 strenuous endeavour to restore the morals and the 
 manners of an earlier and more austere age. His 
 marriage laws and sumptuary laws were all directed 
 to this one great aim, and reform was badly needed- 
 Among the upper classes of Rome the sanctity of 
 marriage was scarcely respected. Irregular unions 
 had become increasingly common. Men had re- 
 course to divorce on the slightest and flimsiest pre- 
 texts, and marriage itself was regarded by a large 
 section of the community as a burden and a tie. 
 The old domestic life of the Romans had gone ut- 
 terly out of fashion, with disastrous results to public 
 morals and to the birth-rate. The lines of Horace, 
 
 " Fecunda culpae saecula nuptias 
 Primum inquinavere et genus et domes; 
 Hoc fonte derivata clades 
 In patriam populumque fluxit," 
 
 did not exaggerate the truth. The women of the 
 highest society had thrown off the restraints pre- 
 viously imposed upon them, and if the careers of 
 Sempronia, the friend of Catiline, and of Clodia, the 
 sister of the tribune, were at all typical of their class, 
 they had turned their newly won freedom to the 
 most shameless uses. Roman society, in a word, 
 was corrupt and vicious. Even in the days of the 
 Republic it had been found necessary to legislate 
 for the encouragement of marriage and its fruits, 
 and Julius had issued a series of enactments on the 
 
2i6 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 
 
 subject. Augustus increased their stringency, A 
 law was passed making it obligatory on all citizens 
 of a certain age to marry. They were given three 
 years' grace in which to choose their wives, but the 
 law met with so much passive opposition that a 
 further extension of two years' liberty was permitted. 
 Senators were forbidden to form legitimate mar- 
 riages with freed-women ; celibacy was penalised by 
 incapacity to profit by bequests, and if a union 
 proved childless the husband was only allowed to 
 receive one half of any legacies which might be left 
 to him. On the other hand, the father of three 
 children received special privileges in the shape of 
 the remission of part of his taxes, exemption from 
 jury service, a good seat in the theatre, and priority 
 of election in standing for pubHc office. Yet, in 
 spite of these extraordinary bounties on domesticity, 
 the desired result was not obtained, and both Au- 
 gustus and his successors strove in vain to overcome 
 the growing disinclination of the upper classes of 
 Rome to undertake parental responsibilities. The 
 laws were constantly evaded. Men married and 
 then immediately divorced their wives. When it 
 was ordained that such persons should remarry 
 within a specified time, the reluctant Benedicts 
 sought to escape the meshes of the law by entering 
 into nominal marriage contracts with young child- 
 ren. Thoughout his reign Augustus was continu- 
 ally amending the marriage laws, and for the most 
 part with meagre success. Nor was he more suc- 
 cessful by making adultery a criminal offence pun- 
 ishable by heavy fine or banishment to an island 
 
Augushcs as a Reformer 217 
 
 Such a weapon could only be employed in exceed- 
 ingly gross cases where there was flagrant public 
 scandal. 
 
 His sumptuary laws fared Httle better, though he 
 set his people a far better personal example in this re- 
 spect than he did in the matter of morals. Retried 
 to check luxurious living and extravagance in the 
 building and decoration of private mansions. He 
 sought, in the spirit of seventeenth-century Puritan- 
 ism, to set bounds to the caprices of fashion in 
 women's dress. But he might as well have preached 
 to the winds and the waves. His motives were ex- 
 cellent, but Roman society was too steeped in 
 corruption and luxury for him to be able to effect 
 any radical improvement, much less a complete 
 transformation. Moreover, he had given Rome a 
 court, or the beginnings of a court, and the archaic 
 virtues of simplicity and plain living rarely flourish 
 in a courtly atmosphere. He was thus committed 
 to an unavailing struggle to reconcile two almost 
 irreconcilable ideals, and the deadliest blows were, 
 as we shall see, dealt him by members of his own 
 household. 
 
 Similarly, he attempted to check the licence which 
 prevailed in the theatres and at the public shows. 
 He forbade boys from taking part in the Lupercalia ; 
 at the Secular Games he issued an edict that no 
 young person should attend the evening perform- 
 ances unless in the company of an elder relative. 
 At the gladiatorial shows he restricted women to 
 the upper parts of the amphitheatre ; to the athletic 
 festivals he denied them entrance altogether. That 
 
2i8 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 they resented this interference with their liberty is 
 shewn by the fact that he was obliged to issue an 
 edict expressing his disapproval of their flocking to 
 the theatres before the fifth hour and sacrificing 
 their siesta in order to get a front place. Augustus 
 carried his passion for order and class privilege into 
 the theatre, and issued the most detailed instruc- 
 tions as to the allocation of the respective blocks 
 of seats. And if he insisted upon order among the 
 audience he made the same demand from the actors, 
 especially from the Greek pantomimists, who had 
 been wont to indulge in the free use of " gags " and 
 political allusions. An actor named Stephanio was 
 beaten with rods publicly in three theatres for bring- 
 ing on to the stage a Roman matron with her hair 
 cut to make her look like a boy ; another was ban- 
 ished from Italy for pointing with his finger to a 
 member of the audience who had hissed him. 
 
 It is certainly strange that Augustus, who saw 
 clearly enough that the theatres and games occu- 
 pied far too much of the attention of the people and 
 were fast becoming their most engrossing interest, 
 should yet have been their unfailing patron. One 
 can understand his frequent revival of the "Game 
 of Troy," in which the best-born youths of Rome 
 took part and performed a number of evolutions on 
 horseback. This was a good training-school for the 
 future officers of the army, and it is the more ex- 
 traordinary that he abolished it because Asinius 
 Pollio bitterly complained in the Senate that it was 
 a dangerous exhibition, instancing the case of one 
 of his young relatives who had been thrown from 
 
Augicstus as a Reformer 219 
 
 his horse and broken his leg. The incident brings 
 out very clearly the decay of martial exercises among 
 the upper classes and their increasing tendency to 
 restrict their active share in sports to that of watch- 
 ing paid professionals in the arena. But we might 
 almost say that Augustus adopted the role of public 
 caterer for the people's amusements. He boasts in 
 the Monumenttnn Ancyraniim the number of shows 
 he had provided for their delectation, as though his 
 generosity in this respect constituted a lasting title 
 to fame. We are told by Suetonius that he out- 
 stripped all his predecessors in the frequency, vari- 
 ety and magnificence of his spectacles, that he gave 
 four entertainments in his own name and twenty- 
 three in the names of other magistrates, who were 
 either absent from Rome or whose means were in- 
 adequate to bear the expense. Suetonius goes on 
 to describe how, in addition to the wild-beast hunts, 
 the athletic festivals, and the great naval show held 
 in a specially constructed lake, he got together spe- 
 cial bands of players to amuse the people ; how, when- 
 ever a rare beast was brought to Rome, such as a 
 rhinoceros, a Bengal tiger, or a snake of extraordin- 
 ary size, Augustus took care that the public should 
 be given a free view of it ; and with what scrupulous 
 regularity he attended the shows himself. If he 
 was ill, or public business was too pressing, he 
 apologised for his absence and appointed a deputy 
 to take his place as president. And, whenever he 
 was present, he always feigned an engrossing inter- 
 est in the performance, remembering that Julius had 
 given rise to adverse comment because he had read 
 
2 20 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 letters and transacted business in the theatre. It 
 would seem from this curious passage that the people 
 resented their ruler working while they were enjoy- 
 ing themselves, as though such seriousness contained 
 a veiled reproof of their idleness. To us such a role 
 as this seems hardly consistent with that of a serious 
 statesman and ardent religious reformer, who was 
 anxious to lead back his people to a simpler life, to 
 check luxury, and to repress vice. Probably Au- 
 gustus would have justified his conduct by saying 
 that these games were part of the public life of 
 Rome, that they possessed the sanction of anti- 
 quity, and that all State functions ought to be on 
 a scale commensurate with the dignity of the Im- 
 perial city. His ideal, seen in his lavish expendi- 
 ture upon the pubhc buildings and temples of Rome, 
 was that everything connected with the State should 
 be imposing and magnificent, while the private in- 
 dividual should display an almost Puritanical sim- 
 plicity in conduct, dress, and domestic life. Such 
 an ideal may be intellectually intelligible, but it cer- 
 tainly was not translated into action by the Roman 
 people of Augustus's day. They refused to draw so 
 subtle a distinction. 
 
 Many have thought that Augustus set himself to 
 amuse the people in order to make them forget the 
 political liberty which they had lost, that he de- 
 bauched them of deliberate purpose in order that he 
 might keep them quiet. There is no doubt that the 
 shows which he provided were extraordinarily popu- 
 lar and that the dregs of Rome, like the dregs of any 
 other great city, ancient or modern, fawned upon 
 
Augustus as a Reformer 221 
 
 the bounteous hand which fed them and pleasantly- 
 filled up their idle moments. But we may certainly 
 acquit the Emperor of any such Machiavellian pur- 
 pose, which was contrary to the general trend of his 
 character and policy. If Augustus was sincere in 
 anything, he was sincere in his passion for order, and 
 for that quality of gravitas which differentiated the 
 Roman from the Greek. Innovator as he was in a 
 thousand ways, he was always an innovator malgr^ 
 ltd; he was at heart a disciple of Cato though he 
 was grand-nephew and adopted son of Julius. Au- 
 gustus set out with the fixed determination to put 
 back the hands of the clock, in all that related to 
 domestic life, to morals, and to religion. In Rome, 
 at any rate, the times were too strong for him. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE ORGANISATION OF THE PROVINCES 
 
 FROM Rome and Italy we turn to the ampler 
 world of the Roman Empire, and are at once con- 
 fronted with the cardinal reform introduced by 
 Augustus in 27 B.C., when he divided the provinces 
 between the Principate and the Senate. The principle 
 upon which the division was made is succinctly laid 
 down by Suetonius, who says that the Emperor took 
 for himself the more powerful provinces which could 
 neither conveniently nor safely be administered by 
 magistrates holding office only for a single year: 
 ^''Validiores provincias et qiias annuls magistratutun 
 imperiis regi nee faeile nee tutum erat^ ipse suscepit. 
 In other words, he chose those which required the 
 presence of troops to keep them in subjection, and 
 the great frontier provinces which came in contact 
 with barbarism ; those which lay outside the path of 
 the storm he handed over to the Senate. Africa, — 
 which still retained a legion, — Baetica, Asia, Sicily, 
 Dalmatia, Macedonia, Achaia, Crete and Cyrene, 
 Bithynia and Pontus, Sardinia and Corsica, were 
 placed in the latter category. Of these Dalmatia 
 was transferred to the Emperor in B. C. II, on the 
 
 222 
 
Organisation of the Provinces 223 
 
 outbreak of the Pannonian wars, and Sardinia and 
 Corsica in A. D. 6, probably to enable the Emperor 
 to exercise better control over the grain supplies. 
 But the Senate had been more than compensated 
 for the loss of these by the acquisition in B. c. 22 of 
 Gallia Narbonensis, and Cyprus. The remaining 
 provinces were directly administered by the Em- 
 peror. Lusitania and Tarraconensis in Spain ; 
 Aquitania, Lugdunensis, and Belgica in Gaul ; the 
 two Germanic provinces on the Rhine, formed to- 
 wards the close of his reign ; the various Danubian 
 provinces and procuratorships ; Cilicia ; the great 
 eastern frontier province of Syria ; and Egypt, which 
 belonged to a special category of its own — all these 
 were entirely removed from the sphere of the Sen- 
 ate's influence. 
 
 With the senatorial provinces Augustus interfered 
 as little as possible. Their governors continued to 
 be chosen by lot from among the ex-consuls and ex- 
 praetors of five years' standing, until in A.D. 5 this 
 method of selection — a clumsy device which had al- 
 ways given rise to endless intrigue and chicanery 
 — was abolished. Owing to their wealth and import- 
 ance, Asia and Africa seem to have been reserved 
 for men of consular rank, but Augustus, lavish as 
 ever in the grant of such distinctions as carried dig- 
 nity without power, ordained that all senatorial 
 governors should rank as pro-consuls, even though 
 they had never held the consulship. Thus the ruler 
 of the most insignificant province was attended by 
 his lictors with their axes and rods, and enjoyed 
 the right of assuming the pro-consular insignia on 
 
224 Augustus Ccpsar 
 
 passing beyond the Pomoerium. But if his outward 
 dignities were thus scrupulously maintained his real 
 power had become greatly diminished. Except in 
 the case of Africa, no senatorial governor com- 
 manded an army. His freedom of action was cur- 
 tailed in a number of indirect ways. He was no 
 longer at liberty to plunder the provincials at dis- 
 cretion. His receipt of a fixed and adequate salary 
 left him no excuse for levying exactions upon the 
 natives, and there is good reason to believe that the 
 senatorial commissioners, or legati, sent to accom- 
 pany him and keep watch over his doings, were 
 much more carefully selected than they had been in 
 Republican days. Even his quaestor, his deputy and 
 finance officer, whose chief duty was to look after 
 the payment of the tribute and to see that neither 
 the provincials nor the governor robbed the State, 
 now bore the title of qncestor pro-prcetore, and to him 
 were assigned definite judicial functions, which lim- 
 ited the old absolute irresponsibility of the provin- 
 cial governor. 
 
 In the imperial provinces, on the other hand, 
 the governors were merely the representatives of 
 the Princeps — legati CcBsaris pro-prcBtore. One and 
 all bore the title of pro-praetor, even though they 
 had passed the curule chair. Answerable for their 
 conduct to the Emperor alone, they remained in 
 their commands at his sole discretion. Thus while 
 the system of annual governorships still prevailed in 
 the senatorial provinces, it became no uncommon 
 thing for the ruler of an imperial province to stay 
 for a long term of years in his command, a fact 
 
Organisation of the Provinces 225 
 
 which tended strongly to efficient administration. 
 These imperial governors were attended by pro- 
 curators who performed the duties of quaestor and 
 eventually became persons of hardly less import- 
 ance than the governors themselves. Sometimes, 
 indeed, the procurator was actually the governor 
 of the district in which he was placed. This was 
 the case in Judaea, when that country was at- 
 tached to Syria, and in Rhaetia, Noricum, Epirus, 
 and Thrace. Occasionally, indeed, the procurators 
 were under the general supervision of the pro-praetor 
 of the adjoining province, but for most practical pur- 
 poses they held independent commands. 
 
 Beyond the sweeping reform involved by this 
 division of the provinces into two separate and dis- 
 tinct classes, Augustus did not introduce any vio- 
 lent changes into the provincial administration itself. 
 He simply took over the RepubHcan system and 
 saw that it was worked in an efficient manner, his 
 aim being rather to destroy its abuses than to re- 
 cast its general character. What he did was to set 
 the provinces upon a business footing. One of the 
 principal steps taken towards this end was the com- 
 pletion of the great ordnance survey begun by 
 JuHus. The four leading geometers of the day, Ze- 
 nodoxus, Theodotus, Polycletus, and Didymus, were 
 engaged for nearly twenty-five years in visiting every 
 corner of the Empire and preparing a new map, 
 whereon were shewn the configuration of each pro- 
 vince, with its principal roads and towns, and a min- 
 ute description of the character of the soil. A copy 
 of this was painted or engraved by Agrippa on the 
 
226 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 walls of his portico at Rome, while the originals 
 were carefully kept in the Roman treasury and con- 
 stituted the official record upon which the provinces 
 were assessed. In addition to this orbis pictiis^ or 
 painted world, Augustus carried out a census in 
 Gaul, Spain, and Syria, and the probabilities are 
 that the same course was pursued in each province, 
 with periodical revisions every few years. The cen- 
 sus papers shew that a careful inventory was made 
 for the purpose of the land tax, which was the most 
 profitable source of Roman revenue. Julius Caesar 
 had already abolished in B.C. 48 the system of farm- 
 ing the tithe, which had. been the cause of endless 
 extortion, especially in the Asiatic provinces. The 
 tribiiHun soli, or land-tax, was now apparently col- 
 lected by the province itself and paid over to the 
 quaestor or to the procurator direct, without the in- 
 tervention of the publicanus, or middleman. The 
 operations of the latter were not indeed wholly dis- 
 persed with, for the publicanus still continued to 
 farm the revenues obtained from the portoria (the 
 customs and octroi) and from the mines and quar- 
 ries which belonged to the State. Yet these reve- 
 nues were no longer sold at pubHc auction, but were 
 leased by the treasury officials at Rome. 
 
 There is no reason to believe that the burden 
 of taxation was unduly heavy. The chief direct 
 taxes were the tributimi soli and the tributum capitis, 
 the former a land-tax, paid either in money or in 
 grain, and the latter a personal tax on property or 
 income. The principal indirect tax was the customs, 
 which varied in amount in different provinces. In 
 
Organisation of the Provinces 227 
 
 addition to these, there were other imposts, such as 
 the four per cent, tax on all inheritances, the five 
 per cent, on the enfranchisement of every slave, the 
 one per cent, on all commodities sold by auction or 
 in open market, and the two per cent, on the sale of 
 slaves. The revenue derived from th.Q agcr p?iblicus, 
 or State domains in Italy, had dwindled almost to 
 the vanishing point, and the fact that Augustus 
 practically introduced no new taxes to meet the 
 enormously increased public expenditure is a strik- 
 ing proof at once of the prosperity which attended 
 his rule and of the greater honesty of the public 
 ofificials. In Cicero's time we hear only of the pro- 
 vincials as being ground down by the rapacity of 
 their governors, while the exchequer was constantly 
 empty ; in the reign of Augustus commerce had re- 
 vived with a bound. The system of a double ex- 
 chequer seems clumsy to modern ideas, but it flowed 
 naturally from the division of the provinces. The 
 ^rarium Sattcrni, controlled by senatorial officers, 
 continued to receive all the revenues from the pub- 
 lic domains and the senatorial provinces ; the ^ra- 
 rium militare, or military treasury, depended mainly 
 upon the one per cent, tax on the sale of commodi- 
 ties ; while into the Emperor's Fiscus flowed all the 
 revenues from the imperial provinces. 
 
 Augustus spent public mxoney freely upon the 
 provinces for imperial purposes. It is impossible, 
 for example, to compute the enormous sums which 
 must have been expended in the construction of 
 the great military roads which led to the frontiers. 
 In the East, no doubt, such roads were already in 
 
2 28 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 existence, for in Greek times there had been an 
 elaborate posting system throughout Asia and Syria. 
 But in the West and North the roads had to be 
 cut through virgin forests and swamps and over 
 mountains which had never before been penetrated 
 by a wheeled vehicle. Apparently the principle 
 adopted was to construct the main highways at the 
 expense of the State, inasmuch as they were primar- 
 ily intended for the rapid movement of the legions, 
 and to throw the cost of the cross-roads and sub- 
 sidiary ways upon the locaHties through which they 
 passed — an equitable management which was per- 
 fectly fair to the provincial taxpayer, who benefited 
 from both alike. 
 
 Highly centralised though the provincial system 
 was, a generous measure of local government was 
 left to the provincials. Throughout the East there 
 were many free cities which were, to all intents and 
 purposes, autonomous. The provinces of Asia and 
 Syria were in fact hardly more than aggregates of 
 city states, while the Western provinces were aggre- 
 gates of cantons, as in Gaul, or of tribes, as in Spain. 
 Some of these city states were absolutely independ- 
 ent of Rome, though they lay within the confines 
 of a province. The liberae et /(xderatae civitates 
 were protected by a special treaty. These paid no 
 taxes of any sort to the Empire ; they managed 
 their own finances ; they enjoyed their own laws 
 without let or hindrance. Others, which though 
 free, had no treaty with Rome, but merely a charter 
 of rights revocable at will, were in a less-favoured 
 position. Their libertas gave them the right of self- 
 
Organisation of the Provi7ices 229 
 
 government but did not carry with it immunity 
 from the tribute. Augustus, while generally con- 
 firming them in their privileges, did not hesitate to 
 punish them by deprivation for turbulence or mal- 
 administration. For example, during his visit to 
 Asia Minor in 22 B.C. he conferred freedom upon 
 Samos but took it away from Cyzicus, Tyre, and 
 Sidon on account of their seditiousness. According 
 to Suetonius, he abrogated the treaty rights even of 
 certain allied free cities, which had got utterly out 
 of hand {ad exitium licentia praccipites)^ but he light- 
 ened the burdens of many which were heavily in 
 debt, rebuilt others which had been shattered by 
 earthquakes, and bestowed Latin rights and, in some 
 instances, the full Roman citizenship upon those 
 which could shew that they had rendered valuable 
 service to the Roman people. The Emperor, in 
 other words, was not suspicious of local self-govern- 
 ment and did not consider it incompatible with a 
 highly centralised regime. 
 
 Moreover, these Greek cities of Asia Minor and 
 Syria were not only autonomous but enjoyed their 
 own provincial representative assemblies, formed 
 originally, no doubt, for festival and religious pur- 
 poses. Here delegates of the various groups of 
 cities met in conference and their proceedings were 
 by no means confined to mere formalities. On the 
 contrary, we find that when a province had cause of 
 quarrel with a governor and wished to lay an im- 
 peachment against him for injustice or extortion, it 
 was in the provincial assembly that the matter was 
 formally discussed and by that assembly that the 
 
230 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 indictment was drawn up. Deputies were appointed 
 to bring the matter before the Senate at Rome, 
 where they were assured of a much fairer hearing 
 than under the RepubHc. ** The subject nations," 
 Thrasea declared a few years later, " used to tremble 
 before the pro-consuls ; now the pro-consul trembles 
 before the subjects over whom he rules." These 
 assemblies had also the privilege of recommending a 
 popular governor to the Emperor's favourable no- 
 tice, and so eagerly sought after was this testimonial 
 of good character that Augustus found it necessary 
 to forbid the assemblies from passing any such reso- 
 lution until sixty days after a governor's departure, 
 in order to prevent him from intriguing to get such 
 a resolution passed. 
 
 The Emperor also gave the provinces an honest 
 currency, a boon which all engaged in commerce 
 must have hailed with delight. He withdrew from 
 circulation the debased coin issued in the days of 
 Sulla, who had passed a law making it obligatory 
 upon the public to accept at its face value all money 
 issued from the mints, irrespective of its intrinsic 
 worth. The means whereby this operation was car- 
 ried out are not known, nor is it stated whether the 
 public or the State bore the loss, but, for the future, 
 it was enacted that all gold and silver coins should be 
 of standard weight and that the right of coinage 
 should be restricted to Rome and a few provincial 
 mints. And as a curious but convincing illustration 
 — in itself of minor importance — of Augustus's 
 general policy, it is worth noting that he allowed 
 the Senate the right of minting the copper coinage. 
 
COIN OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS TO CELEBRATE PEACE. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS TO CELEBRATE THE 
 RECOVERY OF ARMENIA. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS TO CELEBRATE THE RESTORATION OF THE 
 ROMAN PRISONERS FROM PARTHIA. 
 
Organisation of the Provinces 231 
 
 Nothing could be more characteristic. The gold and 
 silver were to be imperial ; the copper was to be 
 senatorial. Such a division of the metals was sym- 
 bolical of much. 
 
 There can be no question that the provinces were 
 the chief gainers by the change from the RepubHc 
 to the Principate, and that they sincerely welcomed 
 the establishment of the Empire. They reaped ad- 
 vantage therefrom in a hundred diverse ways. The 
 strong central government at Rome imposed peace 
 within the frontiers. The older provinces no longer 
 required armies for their protection and were able 
 to pursue unmolested the path of peaceful develop- 
 ment. Such a province as Further Spain was no 
 longer threatened by the mountaineers of Lusitania ; 
 the Narbonensis had no more cause to fear the half- 
 conquered tribes of Gaul, now that their hinterlands 
 had become Roman too. The same was true in the 
 East of provinces like Macedonia, Asia, Bithynia, 
 and Cilicia. The seas were swept clear of pirates 
 and their coasts were secure, while the advancement 
 of the frontier to the Danube protected Macedonia 
 from the incursions of the Dacians, and the interior 
 of Asia Minor grew more settled from year to year. 
 By planting the legions permanently on the bound- 
 aries, Augustus drew a wall of swords around the 
 provincials and kept them sheltered from invasion. 
 The Republic — had it survived — might perhaps 
 have done the same, but it is hard to believe that 
 the Senate would have conceived such a policy or 
 would have dared to carry it into practice, involving 
 as it did the creation of huge military commands. 
 
232 Augusius CcEsar 
 
 The rapid Romanisation of Spain and Gaul was 
 the chief triumph of Augustus in the West ; while 
 throughout the East commerce prospered as it had 
 never prospered before. Even Tacitus, despite all 
 his Republican sympathies, was compelled to ac- 
 knowledge that "the provinces did not object to 
 the new regime " : *' Neque provincice ilhim reru7n 
 statum abnuebanty That is the grudging admission of 
 a man who would like to have denied, if denial had 
 been possible, the clear evidence of his senses, and, 
 coming from such a source, it is tantamount to proof 
 that the loyalty of the provinces was beyond dis- 
 pute. There may not have been any great outburst 
 of enthusiasm towards its ruler on the part of the 
 Grecian East. The Greek populations of Syria and 
 Asia Minor, who had long ago forgotten their an- 
 cestors' devotion to freedom, accepted foreign rule 
 as a matter of course, having never known what 
 it was to be independent. Provided their customs 
 and observances were not interfered with, provided 
 they were left free to amuse themselves with their 
 festivals and their arts, — which, as Cicero had long 
 before pointed out, solaced them for their loss of free- 
 dom, — they were content. Factious among them- 
 selves, they never threatened insurrection against 
 the imperial master whose armies guarded them alike 
 from the Parthian and the Median and from the de- 
 predations of the mountaineer tribes which lay be- 
 hind them. One need only compare the letters of 
 the younger Pliny written to Trajan from the pro- 
 vince of Bithynia, not with the terrible picture of the 
 rule of Verres in Sicily but with the letters written 
 
Orga7iisation of the Provinces 233 
 
 by Cicero himself from Cilicia, to see that the spirit 
 of the Roman provincial administration had in the 
 intervening years undergone a complete revolution. 
 It is not to be supposed that night was suddenly 
 changed into day by the mere fact that there was now 
 an Emperor in Rome instead of a ruling clique of 
 oligarchs, most of whom had looked forward to the 
 day when their own turn would come for loot and 
 plunder. But the situation was profoundly changed 
 by the substitution of one permanent master for a 
 yearly succession of masters who came and went. In 
 the imperial provinces the Emperor was supreme. 
 He appointed his own men to the governorships. 
 All the revenues from these provinces flowed into 
 his new treasury, and, responsible as he was for the 
 security of an Empire which required a vast expend- 
 iture, he chose his financial officers with care, and 
 looked strictly into the details of his budget. To 
 say that peculation and rapacity on the part of his 
 agents were thereby made impossible would be a 
 gross exaggeration, but at least they became infinitely 
 more dangerous to the corrupt official, who now had 
 to answer not to a venal jury but to the Emperor 
 himself, or to a court of law which gave its verdict 
 under the Emperor's eyes. Augustus, in short, 
 created a great Civil Service which offered a fine 
 career to men of capacity and ambition, and in 
 which promotion was only to be looked for as a 
 reward for fidelity to trust. Very little is heard 
 during his reign of provincial misgovernment. Dion 
 Cassius, indeed, attributes the revolt of Pannonia 
 and Illyricum to the discontent of the natives at 
 
234 Atigustiis CcEsar 
 
 their financial burdens. Varus, again, is described 
 as having gone to the rich province of Syria a poor 
 man and as having stripped it bare : " Pauper divitem 
 ingressits, dives paupereni reliquitr But the most 
 striking case of all is that of Licinus, a freedman 
 of Gallic birth who rose to the important position of 
 chief procurator in Gaul. According to Dion Cassius, 
 Licinus not only angered the Gauls by his insolent 
 and overbearing demeanour, but extorted from them 
 their monthly taxes fourteen times in the year, after 
 the style of the worst kind of Republican governor. 
 And the story goes that when Augustus visited 
 Lugdunum and called his procurator to account for 
 his rapacity, Licinus invited him to his house, dis- 
 played before him the treasures which he had 
 amassed and avowed that, if he had plundered, he 
 had done so not for his own gain but for that of his 
 imperial master. Augustus, we are told, condoned 
 the crime and, instead of dismissing Licinus from 
 his service, took the bribe and advanced the crafty 
 procurator to even higher dignities. But these ex- 
 ceptions, important though they are, do not affect 
 the general truth of the argument that the provin- 
 cials were far less exposed to the rapacity of their 
 governors than they had been in the old days. In- 
 stead of the provinces being **the farms of the 
 Roman people " — to quote Cicero's striking and sig- 
 nificant phrase from the Verrine orations — they were 
 now the farms of the Emperor, who might occasion- 
 ally rack-rent them to meet some extraordinary ex- 
 penditure, but who, as a rule, took care that no one 
 else should do the same. Some years later, when 
 
Organisation of the Provinces 235 
 
 Tiberius's financial advisers recommended him to 
 increase the provincial tribute, the Emperor replied 
 with a homely proverb which contained the maxi- 
 mum of political insight : " A good shepherd shears 
 his sheep, he does not flay the skin off their backs " ; 
 *' Boni past oris esse tondere pecuSy non deglubere.'' 
 Such in a word was the provincial policy of Augus- 
 tus with respect to taxation, and it fully explains the 
 popularity of the Empire throughout the provinces. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 M^CENAS AND AGRIPPA 
 
 AT this point we may turn aside to take note of 
 the men who stood on the steps of this new 
 and anomalous throne, which bore the mono- 
 gram, not of Augustus, but of the Republic. Adroit- 
 ness alone would never have carried its occupant to 
 an eminence thus supreme. He possessed the rare 
 faculty, itself a form of genius, of selecting capable 
 lieutenants and of trusting them when chosen. Au- 
 gustus did not win his way to empire, like the first 
 Napoleon, by a dazzling series of victories ; his suc- 
 cess reminds us rather of the founder of the modern 
 German Empire, for he owed almost as much as 
 Kaiser William I. to his great Ministers of State, and 
 he owed most of all to Maecenas and Agrippa. 
 
 Caius Ciln.ius Maecenas was some years older than 
 his master. Of his early career nothing is known, 
 nor does his name emerge from obscurity until the 
 time of the Perusian War and the Treaty of Brun- 
 disium. He traced his descent — or rather others 
 traced it for him, for he himself laughed at pedigrees 
 — from the ancient kings of Etruria, and his family, 
 which belonged to the equestrian order, had taken 
 
 236 
 
McEcenas and Agrippa 237 
 
 little part in the politics of the Republic. Maecenas 
 too, was a typical eqiies. Office had no charm for 
 him. Soon — though the precise date is uncertain 
 — after Augustus had firmly established his position, 
 Maecenas retired gladly to his business and his 
 pleasures. Yet, for many a long year, whenever 
 delicate negotiations were afoot which called for 
 careful handling ; or whenever a diplomatist was re- 
 quired to strike a bargain, or patch up a quarrel, 
 Augustus had always relied upon the shrewd com- 
 mon-sense and the infinite tact of Maecenas. It was 
 he who had arranged the Treaties of Brundisium 
 and Tarentum in B. c. 40 and 37 ; he who had 
 schemed the earlier matrimonial alliances of Augus- 
 tus, first with Clodia, the daughter of Fulvia and 
 Publius Clodius — a union which was speedily dis- 
 solved by the Perusian War, — and secondly with 
 Scribonia, the sister of Lucius Scribonius Libo, who 
 was the father-in-law of Sextus Pompeius. This too 
 lasted no longer than the needs of the political situ- 
 ation demanded, for on the very day that Scribonia 
 bore him his only child — the daughter who was 
 afterwards to bring disgrace upon his house — Au- 
 gustus divorced the mother and married Livia, 
 whom he had snatched from the side of her husband, 
 Tiberius Claudius Nero. The ill-omened union be- 
 tween Octavia and Marcus Antonius which was de- 
 signed to cement the Treaty of Brundisium, though 
 subsequently it introduced a new and bitter source 
 of discord between the Triumvirs, was also due to 
 the advice of Maecenas. It was to him too that 
 Octavian had turned whenever the murmurs of 
 
238 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 discontent in the capital grew serious during his own 
 long and repeated absences from Rome. When the 
 issue of the war with Sextus Pompeius seemed to be 
 hanging doubtfully in the balance, when Rome was 
 starving because the corn-ships failed to come up 
 the Tiber and the people were clamouring for peace 
 at any price with the corsair son of Cnaeus Pompe- 
 ius, it was Maecenas who was despatched in haste 
 to silence the grumblers and overawe the discon- 
 tented. And when eventually, at the supreme 
 moment, Octavian and Agrippa sailed with their 
 armaments to bring Antonius to battle, Maecenas 
 was left behind in Italy to forward supplies and re- 
 inforcements and, above all, to keep Rome quiet 
 until the decisive blow had been struck. Clearly 
 therefore, Maecenas was a man of sterling capacity 
 and played a great part between the years B. C. 40 
 and 27. Yet he had no political ambitions, and he 
 closed his public career without a sigh. 
 
 The explanation is simple. Maecenas was an 
 eques. The only reward he asked for his services 
 was liberty to live his own life in his own way. He 
 had no wish to enter the Senate, or wear the sena- 
 torial ornamenta. Maecenas was enormously rich, 
 a man of the world, a bon viveur who thoroughly 
 loved the elegancies of life, a man of taste in litera- 
 ture and the arts, and a discriminating connoisseur. 
 Yet, though he retired from politics in the sense that 
 he held no office, his political influence for long re- 
 mained unimpaired. If the Emperor wanted advice, 
 he still turned for it to Maecenas. He was not a 
 minister in the modern sense of the term, but, as 
 
McEcenas and Agrippa 239 
 
 the friend of Caesar, his wise counsel was ever at his 
 master's disposal. Nor was this the sole service 
 which Maecenas rendered. As one of the leadins- 
 financiers of the Roman world, his indirect poHtical 
 influence must have been enormous, and he was, 
 moreover, the chief patron of literature and the arts. 
 It was of inestimable advantage to Augustus that 
 there should be in the capital a brilliant man like 
 Maecenas, who kept open house on a scale of great 
 magnificence, and gave endless banquets and enter- 
 tainments, where political asperities might be soft- 
 ened and political conversions might be made. His 
 splendid mansion on the Esquiline Hill formed pre- 
 cisely such a centre, partly social, partly literary 
 and artistic, and partly political. The guests of 
 Maecenas, even amid their revels, did not forget 
 that their host was the '' friend of Caesar" — a phrase 
 which henceforth acquired a significance of its own, 
 almost as distinct as the title of one of the new 
 imperial ofifices. Velleius Paterculus has sketched 
 Maecenas's character in a striking sentence which 
 brings out the two sides of his nature. " He was," 
 says the historian, '' sleeplessly alert and prompt to 
 act in any critical moment ; but when business was 
 not pressing, he carried his luxurious idleness be- 
 yond even the point of effeminacy."* The times 
 were breeding extraordinary men — none was more 
 extraordinary than Maecenas, whose whole manner 
 of Hfe was opposed to the ideal which Augustus 
 
 *"Vir, ubi res vigiliam exigeret, sane exsomnis, providens atque 
 agendi sciens ; simul vero aliquid ex negotio remitti posset, otio ac 
 mollitiis paene ultra feminam fluens." 
 
240 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 set before his people. The Emperor might preach 
 simplicity, austerity, and public duty ; his friend's 
 answer was to build a princely mansion on the Es- 
 quiline, and live in luxurious retirement. 
 
 Yet it is impossible to overestimate the service 
 which he rendered to Augustus by the skilful way 
 in which he dispensed his patronage. To reconcile 
 Roman society to the political revolution which had 
 been wrought was one of the great objects of Au- 
 gustus. Maecenas accomplished this, as far as it 
 was capable of accomplishment, by the aid of the 
 writers and publicists of the day. There was no 
 public press to be inspired, but there were at least 
 poets in abundance. Maecenas tuned their lyres, and 
 set them singing the praises of Augustus. Maece- 
 nas, Asinius PoUio, and Messala — these were the 
 three chief patrons of literature in the Augustan era, 
 and they founded, with the active sympathy and 
 encouragement of the Emperor himself, what Va- 
 lerius Maximus justly described as a '' College of 
 Poets." It was a college with definite political 
 ends in view, and it was their triumph, their almost 
 unique triumph, that they wrote not only good poli- 
 tics, but good poetry. Let us see, then, who be- 
 longed to this famous Academy of Immortals in the 
 real as well as in the technical sense of the term. It 
 contained Virgil, the nature worshipper, and Horace, 
 the urbane. It contained the neurotic Sextus Pro- 
 pertius, who gave a new flexibility and richness to the 
 elegiac metre ; and Tibullus, " the pure and fine." 
 These four can be matched by few succeeding liter- 
 ary eras, and surpassed, perhaps, by none. But it 
 
McEcenas and A grip pa 241 
 
 also contained others, of almost equal reputation, 
 whose names alone have come down to us. There 
 was Lucius Varius Rufus, the friend and literary ex- 
 ecutor of Virgil, who is bracketed by Horace in im- 
 mortal association with the Mantuan, and whose 
 tragedy of Thyestesvjd,^ pronounced by Quintilian to 
 equal the greatest masterpieces of the Greek trage- 
 dians. There was Cornelius Gallus, declared by 
 Ovid to be the most consummate artist in elegiac 
 verse. There was Valgius, of whom Tibullus said 
 that none came nearer to Homer. There was Lucius 
 Junius Calidus, " our most brilliant poet " — it is 
 Cornelius Nepos who is speaking — " since Lucretius 
 and Catullus." There was Rabirius, '' the mighty- 
 mouthed," who composed a poem on the Alexandrine 
 War; Cotta, who anticipated Lucan in describing 
 in epic verse the campaign of Pharsalus, and Corne- 
 lius Severus, who sang the Sicilian War against Sex- 
 tus Pompeius. There was Fundanius, who wrote 
 comedies, and Pollio, author as well as literary pa- 
 tron, who wrote tragedies. 
 
 All these are now merely names. It is, of course, 
 absolutely impossible to say whether, if their works 
 had survived, posterity would have endorsed the 
 verdict of their contemporaries. In some cases 
 it almost certainly would not. There are good 
 grounds for suspecting that it is the best which has 
 survived, and that much of what passed for fine 
 poetry at the court of Augustus little deserved the 
 name, and was as conventional and stilted as the 
 typical court literature of the age of Elizabeth or 
 
 the age of Anne and Louis XIV. Genius flourishes 
 16 
 
242 Aiigicstus CcBsar 
 
 in spite of court influence, not because of it. Virgil 
 was fortunate, for his noble theme suited him to 
 perfection ; Horace was a light-hearted man of the 
 world ; the real interest of Tibullus and Propertius 
 lay in their own all-absorbing love affairs. Certainty 
 is out of the question, but we may surmise that they 
 were not all geniuses who sat at the hospitable 
 board of Maecenas, and that some at least of the lost 
 authors were better politicians and courtiers than 
 poets. Virgil, incomparably the greatest of them 
 all, drew his inspiration from the country, and rarely 
 went to court. He has shed a reflected glory over 
 his contemporaries. When we think of the Augus- 
 tan age of literature, we think chiefly of him — of 
 him and of Livy, the solitary prose writer of the first 
 rank of the reign of Augustus. Only one quarter of 
 the great History of Rome, written by Livy, which 
 he brought down to the death of Drusus in B. C. 9, 
 has survived ; the rest is known to us merely from 
 brief analyses of the work, which were themselves 
 compiled from an abridged edition of the original. 
 Livy was not a critical historian ; he was not careful 
 to sift his facts. Content with broad outlines, his 
 main object was to paint an impressive picture of 
 the development of Rome, and his opulence of dic- 
 tion and matchless style were eminently suited to 
 his subject. He was not a courtier ; there is little or 
 no trace in his writing of the influence either of 
 Maecenas or of Augustus himself. His sympathies, 
 indeed, were republican rather than imperial. Yet 
 they were expressed in language which was fraught 
 with no danger to the imperial government. If he 
 
McBcenas and AgiHppa 243 
 
 idealised the early days of the Republic, so, too, 
 did Augustus. His denunciation of the disorders 
 through which the State had passed, his laments 
 over the growth of luxury and the loss of the an- 
 cient virtues might have been inspired by the Em- 
 peror himself. The lesson which he preached in 
 prose was precisely the same as that which Virgil 
 was preaching in verse and Augustus in his edicts — 
 the need for order, moderation, and religion. 
 
 In other words, the Hterature of the day was 
 wholly on the side of the court ; the opposition, 
 such as it was, was voiceless or anonymous. We 
 cannot doubt that this fact alone exercised an incal- 
 culable influence over a public opinion which was in 
 the main entirely favourable to Augustus. That in- 
 fluence would have been great even if the court 
 authors had been men of no special distinction. But 
 they were, on the contrary, the most brilliant group 
 which Rome had known. They made their appeal 
 to all classes of men. Society might be corrupt, but 
 it liked to listen to so noble a teacher as Virgil. 
 The world has seen that phenomenon many times 
 since Augustus's day, notably, perhaps, at the court 
 of Louis XIV., where, though religion and piety 
 were at a heavy discount, the court went regularly 
 to church and listened with rapture to Bossuet and 
 F^nelon. But the real representatives of Augustan 
 society were Horace and Ovid — Horace of the ear- 
 lier part of the reign, Ovid of the latter. There is 
 hardly a trace of real moral earnestness in Horace ; 
 in Ovid the quality is not only absent, but, in its 
 place, we find cynical flippancy and scepticism. 
 
244 Attgustus CcEsar 
 
 Horace laments the degeneracy of his time with an 
 exquisite urbanity which conceals the smile that lies 
 underneath. He is elaborating a text given him by 
 another. His task finished, he rises to go and dine 
 with Maecenas, where the fare is very different from 
 that which he has been praising as having sufficed 
 for the ''Sabella proles.'' Horace is a very comfort- 
 able satirist ; his strokes do not hurt. The golden 
 mean, a judicious blend of not too disagreeable vir- 
 tue with not too flagrant vice, best suits his easy 
 temper. But though his famous '' Secular Hymn," 
 composed for the great religious festival of B.C. 17, 
 leaves the reader cold, there are Hfe and movement 
 and sincerity in his lines when he shews us the 
 Emperor immersed in endless toil and bearing the 
 burden of empire on his shoulders, and describes the 
 victories which, under his direction, the Roman arms 
 have won. To be acclaimed by Virgil as a " very god," 
 and by Horace as the pillar and prop of the State — 
 this was no trifling benefit even to the commander- 
 in-chief of all the legions. It is the fate of most 
 monarchs to have their achievements sung by medi- 
 ocrities whose adulation is nauseating and whose 
 flattery is laid on with a trowel. Augustus fared 
 better. The literary genius of Rome was enlisted 
 in his service by Maecenas, and for twenty years the 
 most gracious of the Nine Muses never failed to ex- 
 tol his work. 
 
 Virgil died in B.C. 19 ; Maecenas and Horace both 
 died in B.C. 8. There is evidence to shew that dur- 
 ing the later years of Maecenas's life he and the Em- 
 peror became gradually estranged from one another. 
 
McBcenas and Agrippa 245 
 
 According to one account, Augustus complained that 
 Maecenas had been indiscreet in the matter of the 
 conspiracy of Murena in B.C. 22, and had confided 
 State secrets connected therewith to his wife, Teren- 
 tia ; according to another, the Emperor himself paid 
 this lady unwarranted attentions, which were re- 
 sented by Maecenas. Whatever the reason, the result 
 was a cooling of the old friendship. Tacitus, in speak- 
 ing of the death of Sallustius Crispus, the adopted son 
 of the historian, a knight Hke Maecenas, *' who, with- 
 out rising to a senator's rank, surpassed in power 
 many who had won praetorships and consulships," 
 says that Crispus for long stood next in favour to 
 Maecenas, and afterwards became the chief deposit- 
 ory of imperial secrets, until in advanced age he 
 retained the shadow rather than the substance of 
 Augustus's friendship. " The same, too," adds the 
 historian in one of his most sententious phrases, "had 
 happened to Maecenas; so rarely is it the destiny 
 of power to be lasting, or perhaps a sense of weari- 
 ness steals over princes when they have bestowed 
 everything, and over favourites when there is no- 
 thing left for them to desire." Yet, despite this cool- 
 ness, Augustus remembered with gratitude to his 
 dying day the faithful service which Maecenas had 
 rendered to him in earlier years, and in the hour of 
 misfortune or disaster it was his wont to exclaim, 
 "This would never have happened if Maecenas or 
 Agrippa had been alive." '' Mcecenatis erunt vera 
 tropcea fides'' — so Propertius had sung years before. 
 His loyalty to Augustus was constant. He dared 
 to give honest counsel, couched even in the language 
 
246 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 of reproof. There is a well-known story which re- 
 lates how one day, when Augustus was presiding in 
 a court of law and was pressing the accused with 
 undue severity, Maecenas wrote the two words, ** Up, 
 Hangman ! " on a scrap of paper and threw it into 
 the folds of Augustus's toga. The Emperor smoothed 
 out the paper, read the message, accepted the rebuke, 
 and quitted the court without a word. Maecenas 
 was credited by his contemporaries with having been 
 the real author of *' the clemency of Augustus," and 
 with having brought his chief round to the view 
 that moderation and clemency were the true policy 
 for him to adopt. If this honourable distinction be 
 his, it is not the least conspicuous feather in his well- 
 plumed cap. If his retirement from active public 
 life and public duty seems selfish, according to the 
 modern idea of the responsibility of wealth, it must 
 be remembered that it did not present itself in that 
 aspect to his contemporaries. He did all that was 
 expected of a knight, and we find Propertius sin- 
 gling out this very fact of his retirement for special 
 praise : 
 
 " Parcis, et in tenues humilem te colligis umbras, 
 Velorum plenos subtrahis ipse sinus. 
 Crede mihi, magnos aequabunt ista Camillos 
 Judicia, et venies tu quoque in era virum." 
 
 The parallel with Camillus is an extraordinary one 
 even when we remember that Maecenas was the pa- 
 tron, and that Propertius was entertaining lively 
 hopes of favours to come. But the metaphors, at 
 least, were well chosen. Maecenas preferred to draw 
 
Mcecenas and A grip pa 247 
 
 in his sails just when they were filled with a favouring 
 breeze. He could have had whatever he had asked 
 for; he preferred, in the poet's almost untranslatable 
 phrase, to live "■ intra fortunam suam'' He knew 
 Augustus better than we can hope to know him ; 
 perhaps he chose the safer, though the less noble, 
 part. 
 
 But there was another to whom Augustus owed 
 even more than he did to Maecenas. This was Mar- 
 cus Vipsanius Agrippa, the friend of his student 
 days at Apollonia and his constant associate and 
 loyal helper throughout the years when he was 
 cHmbing to supreme power. Without Agrippa it is 
 more than doubtful whether Augustus would have 
 succeeded in the struggle. It was he who had broken 
 the insurrection of Fulvia and Lucius Antonius in the 
 Perusian War, and had created the navy which de- 
 stroyed Sextus Pompeius at what was perhaps the 
 most critical juncture of Augustus's fortunes. It 
 was he, too, who had crushed Marcus Antonius in 
 the sea-fight at Actium. In other words, Augustus 
 had to thank Agrippa for the victories he had won 
 both by land and sea; and he frankly recognised 
 the debt by loading his lieutenant with richly mer- 
 ited honours. Agrippa had been rewarded with the 
 consulship in 37 B.C. ; he had been given the hand 
 of Augustus's niece, Marcella, in marriage, and was 
 joint consul with his chief in 28 and 27 B.C., the 
 years during which Augustus carried out his revision 
 of the Senate. Agrippa was the second man in the 
 Roman world — the alter ego of the Princeps — and 
 his loyal co-operation was steadfast and sure. For 
 
248 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 many years no differences arose between them. When 
 Augustus was absent from Rome, busy with the re- 
 organisation of the provinces, Agrippa took up the 
 reins of government. Or if any serious war broke 
 out, which called for the presence of the first gen- 
 eral of the day, Agrippa was invariably entrusted 
 with the command and invariably returned to Rome 
 in triumph. Naturally, therefore, he regarded him- 
 self, and was regarded throughout the Roman world, 
 as the heir to Augustus's political power in case of 
 the Emperor's death, and there can be little doubt 
 that if the illness of Augustus had terminated fatally, 
 either at Tarraco in B.C. 25 or in Rome two years 
 later, Agrippa would have stepped forward as a 
 claimant for the Principate. 
 
 But the cordial relations existing between Augus- 
 tus and Agrippa now began to be affected by the 
 fact that the younger members of the imperial fam- 
 ily were growing up to manhood. Augustus had but 
 one child of his own, his daughter JuHa, born to him 
 of his marriage with Scribonia, in the year 37 B.C. 
 The Empress Livia had borne him no children, and 
 his hopes of an heir were growing faint. But Livia 
 had had two sons by her first husband, Tiberius 
 Nero, the second of whom was born three months 
 after her marriage with Augustus, and these two 
 boys, Tiberius and Drusus, were ready to enter 
 public life. Moreover, besides his daughter JuHa 
 and his two step-sons, there were the children of his 
 sister Octavia, by her two marriages with Marcellus 
 and Marcus Antonius, and the tender regard which 
 Augustus had always shewn for his sister was ex- 
 
MARCUS AGRIPPA. 
 
 FROM THE STATUE IN VENICE. 
 
McBcenas and Agrippa 249 
 
 tended to her children, notably to the young Mar- 
 cus Marcellus, her son by her first marriage. In the 
 year 25 B. C, the favourite of the Emperor was un- 
 questionably Marcellus, a youth of engaging pre- 
 sence and great promise, and it was to him that he 
 gave the hand of his daughter in marriage. Mar- 
 cellus was then in his eighteenth, while Julia was in 
 her fourteenth year, and the circumstance that this 
 marriage was celebrated while Augustus was absent 
 in Spain seems to shew his anxiety that the union 
 should take place without delay. Agrippa resented 
 a marriage which clearly portended the blighting of 
 his own hopes, and took it ill that the only daughter 
 of Augustus should have been bestowed on any but 
 himself. There was no open rupture, but Augustus 
 gave renewed proof of his good will towards Mar- 
 cellus by appointing him aedile for the year 23, and 
 public opinion in Rome seems to have leaped to the 
 conclusion that Marcellus would be Augustus's heir. 
 This was the year of the Emperor's grave illness, dur- 
 ing which he handed over his signet-ring to Agrippa 
 and puzzled everyone to know what he meant 
 thereby. Augustus recovered, but the confidence 
 between the two friends was broken, and Agrippa 
 was sent to the East in charge of an important 
 mission. According to the gossip of the day, Agrippa 
 withdrew from Rome hurt and angry, and, instead 
 of going to Syria, went no farther than Lesbos. 
 Whether this gossip is trustworthy no one can say ; 
 Josephus, in speaking of Agrippa's mission, writes 
 as though he were actually associated with Augus- 
 tus in the Empire. Yet it is probable enough that 
 
250 Augustus Ccssar 
 
 Agrippa, who had such good ground for jealousy 
 and suspicion, actually entertained the sentiments as- 
 cribed to him and thought it hard that he who had 
 done so much for Augustus should be supplanted by 
 a mere stripling. The death of Marcellus, however, 
 during his sedileship, removed this formidable com- 
 petitor out of Agrippa's path. Augustus grieved 
 bitterly at his loss. It was the first death in the im- 
 perial family, the first check to his dynastic ambitions, 
 which were to suffer, as the years went on, a succes- 
 sion of blows so cruel and unlooked for that they 
 seemed to have been administered by malignant 
 Fate. 
 
 Nor was the old cordiality between Augustus and 
 Agrippa immediately restored. Reconciliation was 
 deferred for two years, until Augustus, then in Sic- 
 ily, bade Agrippa come and confer with him, and 
 sent him to Rome to take charge of the city. In 
 the meantime, we may be sure that Livia was schem- 
 ing her hardest to obtain the Emperor's favour for 
 her own sons, and to replace the lost Marcellus in 
 his regard by Tiberius. It is somewhat strange that 
 she met with no better success, for Livia was one of 
 the ablest women of her time. Though she bore 
 Augustus no children, she contrived to retain intact 
 her powerful ascendency over his mind. She de- 
 voted her life to securing the succession for Tiberius 
 and in the end her efforts were triumphant, yet for 
 many years they seemed foredoomed to failure, and 
 Tiberius was only adopted by the Emperor when 
 practically every other possible condidate had been 
 removed by death. It can scarcely be doubted that 
 
McEcenas and Agrippa 25 1 
 
 Livia had done her utmost to persuade Augustus to 
 bestow Julia upon Tiberius in preference to Marcel- 
 lus, or that she renewed those efforts when Marcellus 
 died. Yet she failed and had the mortification of 
 seeing Agrippa reconciled to her husband and mar- 
 ried to the girl widow, Julia, in B. C. 21. Marcella 
 was divorced, at the suggestion, it is said, of her 
 own mother Octavia, who, in the interests of her 
 brother's house, was ready to sacrifice the happi- 
 ness of a daughter, and by this marriage Agrippa 
 stood forth as the recognised heir of the Emperor. 
 Three years later, on his return from Gaul and 
 Spain, he received an even more flattering distinc- 
 tion at the hands of Augustus, for the Emperor 
 made him his colleague in the tribunicia potestas, 
 and thus publicly admitted him to a partnership in 
 the Principate. 
 
 Whether Augustus, in elevating Agrippa to this 
 exalted position, acted entirely of his own free will 
 it is more difficult to say. There is, of course, no 
 question that Agrippa was the fittest to succeed him 
 and that he had fully earned the reversion of the 
 Principate in the event of the Emperor's death. 
 But it was universally believed at the time that 
 Augustus was actuated by considerations of policy, 
 rather than of personal inchnation, in thus giving 
 Agrippa the hand of his daughter Julia. According 
 to Velleius Paterculus, Agrippa was quite willing 
 to be the second man in the Empire, provided that 
 Augustus was the first. He was prepared to be 
 the servant of Augustus, but of Augustus alone, and 
 would acknowledge no other master. If this judgment 
 
252 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 be right, and it certainly seems to be confirmed 
 by his jealousy of Marcellus and the estrangement 
 which followed, Augustus may well have come to 
 the conclusion that it was safer for him to take his 
 too powerful subject into partnership. There is 
 a remarkable — though probably fictitious — story in 
 Dion Cassius which represents Maecenas advising 
 the Emperor either to make Agrippa his son-in-law 
 or to put him out of the way. Augustus chose the 
 former alternative, and thereby thought that he had 
 settled the question of the succession. It must have 
 been a bitter blow to the Empress Livia and to the 
 hopes she entertained for her son Tiberius, but 
 apparently she acquiesced in the decision and was 
 content to bide her time. 
 
 Agrippa's marriage with Julia was fruitful. She 
 bore him two sons, Caius and Lucius, in quick 
 succession, and these infant princes were formally 
 adopted by Augustus in the year 17 B. C. before 
 Agrippa and his wife left Rome for the East, where 
 they remained for four years. On their return, 
 Agrippa again received the tribunicia potestas for 
 another term of five years and was then sent in 
 command of an army to Pannonia, where he died in 
 the following year (b. c. 12) at the age of fifty-one. 
 Augustus in person delivered the funeral panegyric 
 on his dead colleague and buried him in his own 
 splendid mausoleum, but it was strongly suspected 
 that he was secretly relieved at the death of his 
 greatest minister and most successful general. It is 
 probable enough that the relations between them had 
 long been strained, and that each had been uneasily 
 
McBcenas and Agrippa 
 
 253 
 
 suspicious of the motives of the other. '' The glad 
 confident morning" of their early association had 
 vanished ; yet there is not a shred of evidence to 
 shew that Agrippa swerved at any single moment 
 from his perfect loyalty to Augustus. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE ROMANISATION OF THE WEST 
 
 THE pacification and reorganisation of the West, 
 and the amazing success which attended the 
 policy of Augustus in Gaul and Spain, form 
 perhaps the most enduring tribute to his careful 
 statesmanship. Let us glance first at the four Gallic 
 provinces, which covered practically the whole of 
 modern France and Belgium. Cisalpine Gaul was 
 now incorporated in the Italian peninsula. To the 
 west of the Alps lay the province of Gallia Narbon- 
 ensis, formed in the days of the Gracchi, extending 
 from Lake Geneva on the eastern side and em.bra- 
 cing the southern valleys of the Rhone, and then 
 narrowing down to a thin strip of coast line 
 towards the Pyrenees. The remainder of Gaul, fully 
 four-fifths of the whole, had but recently been added 
 to the Roman dominion by Julius Caesar. The 
 more remote portions were still unsettled, but Julius 
 had done his work well and in an almost inconceivably 
 short space of time. He had not merely broken 
 but shattered the strength of the most warlike tribes, 
 and three provinces were carved out of the vast 
 region which Caesar had subdued. In the west lay 
 
 254 
 
The Roinanzsatton of the West 255 
 
 the province of Aquitania, covering the watershed 
 of the Garonne, with the Loire for its boundary 
 on the north and east ; the middle province, Lug- 
 dunensis, included Normandy and Brittany and a 
 wide strip on the northern bank of the Seine and 
 then ran down through the centre of the country to 
 the Rhone ; while the third province, Belgica, 
 included at first all that remained of central and 
 north-eastern Gaul and was bounded by the Atlantic 
 and the Rhine, though subsequently the Rhine 
 lands were taken from Belgica and formed — with a 
 wide strip on the opposite bank — into the two 
 border provinces of Higher and Lower Germany. 
 Augustus and his generals first of all completed the 
 conquests of Julius, and then gave the Gallic peoples 
 stable and settled government. 
 
 Aquitania was Iberian rather than Celtic and its 
 inhabitants belonged ethnically to the fierce tribes 
 which dwelt in northern Spain and not to those of 
 central Gaul. Both slopes of the Pyrenees had been 
 Iberian, and there is thus a close connection between 
 the Spanish wars of B.C. 27 and 26 and the cam- 
 paigns of Marcus Valerius Messala in Aquitania 
 during the same period, when he routed the natives 
 in a great battle just over the border of the adjoin- 
 ing province, near the city of Narbo. This consum- 
 mated the victories gained by Agrippa in Aquitania, 
 eleven years before, and seems to have broken ut- 
 terly the Iberian power, and, in consequence thereof, 
 Augustus was able to hand over to the Senate the 
 province of Gallia Narbonensis in B.C. 22. Thence- 
 forward Gaul remained tranquil. No doubt, occa- 
 
256 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 sional punitive expeditions had to be undertaken, 
 but none of these was sufficiently important to find 
 a place in the annals of Roman history ; and, as no 
 Gallic triumphs are recorded, the inference is that 
 down to the rising in the reign of Tiberius in the 
 year 21 A.D. — a rising which was speedily quelled 
 by the legions of the frontier — the peace of Gaul 
 was scarcely broken. Two causes contributed to 
 this grand result. One was . the ruthless severity 
 with which Julius had subdued the tribes. He had 
 not hesitated to massacre as well as to slay. But 
 if he shewed no mercy towards the foe which 
 opposed him in the field, he was generosity itself 
 to the conquered when they had made their sub- 
 mission, and Augustus remained true to his uncle's 
 policy. We may fairly compare their methods 
 with those adopted, with equal success, by Russia 
 in Central Asia, where in an equally short period 
 the Turcomans and the Khanates of Transcaspia 
 have been reduced to willing subjection. The 
 Romans in Gaul did not worry the Celtic races; 
 they did not dragoon them into accepting their 
 superior civilisation or interfere more than was 
 absolutely necessary with the tribal customs to 
 which the natives were passionately attached. And 
 it is significant of the constant watch kept by 
 Augustus over the Gallic provinces and the as- 
 siduity with which he fostered their goodwill that 
 he not only repeatedly visited them in person, but 
 sent thither, in the capacity of administrators as 
 well as generals, the leading members of the Im- 
 perial House. Augustus went to Gaul in 27 and 
 
COIN OF AUGUSTUS AND AQRIPPA. 
 
 COIN OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
 COIN OF MUSA. 
 
 COIN OF ORODES. 
 
 STATER OF ANTIOCH 
 
The Romanisation of the West 257 
 
 completed the census of the province of Lugdun- 
 ensis ; in the year 20 B.C. he was represented by 
 his great Minister, Agrippa. Later, he spent three 
 whole years, 16-13 B.C., in Gaul, and then, when he 
 finally quitted it, he sent in turn Tiberius, Drusus, 
 and Germanicus to build upon the foundations 
 which he had laid. 
 
 Augustus left the old cantonal system of the 
 Celts intact. The sixty-four cantons, or communal 
 districts, continued to elect their ancient repre- 
 sentative diet, which met at stated periods and, 
 subject to the supremacy of the imperial representa- 
 tive, governed its own local affairs. This diet was 
 practically a national parliament of the three im- 
 perial Gallic provinces and assessed each canton for 
 its share of the annual tribute. It assembled at 
 Lugdunum (Lyons), the Roman burgess-colony 
 which had been founded by Plancus, and there 
 chose the priest of the three Gauls, who was the 
 head of the national religion, and celebrated the 
 great festival of the Emperor. That festival, in- 
 augurated by Drusus in B.C. 12, when he conse- 
 crated at Lugdunum an altar to Rome and to 
 the geriius of the Emperor, became thenceforth 
 the most important event in the Gallic calendar. 
 In accordance with the traditional policy of the 
 Republic, Augustus willingly tolerated their national 
 religion, and the Romans speedily identified many 
 of the barbaric divinities of Gaul with the deities 
 of the Roman Olympus. If the attributes of Tar- 
 anis were similar to those of Jupiter, or the quali- 
 ties of Belenus and Belisana indistinguishable from 
 
258 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 those of Apollo and Minerva, it was a simple 
 matter for Gaul and Roman to worship them under 
 their double names, and it tended to unity that 
 both conquerors and conquered should sacrifice 
 upon a common altar. Whether these were the 
 gods of Druidism, or whether the Druid religion 
 was something special and distinct, we cannot stay 
 to enquire. But it is at least certain that the 
 Druid priests were the leaders of the extreme 
 nationalist and irreconcilable party in Gaul, and 
 that their rites involved human sacrifice, which the 
 Roman Emperor sternly refused to countenance. 
 Parallels are dangerous, but it is tempting to draw 
 one from India, where the policy of the British 
 Government is to afford complete toleration to 
 the religious beliefs and practices of the natives, 
 save where their rites involve the sacrifice of human 
 life. And as the wildest and least tractable sects 
 are invariably those whose rites are the most re- 
 pugnant to Western sentiment, so in Gaul we may 
 well believe that the Druid priesthood, clinging ten- 
 aciously to its savagery, was also politically the most 
 dangerous to the peaceful development of Gaul. 
 Augustus gradually introduced measures tending 
 to the repression of Druidism ; he prohibited any 
 Roman citizen from taking part in its rites; and, 
 with his usual sagacity, he sought to make the 
 yearly festival of the Gallic diet a counterpoise to 
 the old annual assembly of the Celtic priests. 
 Whether he took any active steps for the expulsion 
 of the Druids is not stated. But at least the 
 Druids found themselves driven to take shelter 
 
The Romanisation of the West 259 
 
 in the remoter districts of Armorica, and even to 
 cross the Channel into Britain, and the next Em- 
 perors were able boldly to prohibit the practice 
 of the cult throughout their Gallic domains. The 
 festival of Rome and Augustus, held at Lugdunum, 
 at which the national diet sacrificed and swore 
 fealty to the Emperor, became one of the strongest 
 factors in the Romanisation of the country. 
 
 Augustus was content to let the seed which he 
 had sown germinate in its own natural time. He 
 did not flood the Gallic provinces with new colonies. 
 Lugdunum remained the solitary burgess-colony in 
 the three provinces. As the seat both of the im- 
 perial and the national administration, as the station 
 of the Gallic mint and with a picked cohort for its 
 permanent garrison, as the centre of the great mili- 
 tary roads which here converged from the most dis- 
 tant parts of the provinces, Lugdunum grew at a 
 very rapid rate and became the focus of national 
 life. So far as history has left any records, it was 
 not until the reign of Claudius that Latin rights 
 were conferred upon a Gallic town. Augustus was 
 chary of bestowing either Roman or Latin rights 
 upon the Gallic communities, and he even prohib- 
 ited those Gauls who had attained to the full cit- 
 izenship for services rendered to the State from 
 entering upon the ofificial career for which that citi- 
 zenship qualified them in the eye of the law. In 
 this respect he departed from the policy of his uncle, 
 who had admitted Gauls into the Senate. Why he 
 took this narrow view, it is hard to say, unless it is 
 to be explained by his strong conservatism, and by 
 
26o Atigustus CcBsar 
 
 his anxiety to check the intrusion of foreign elements 
 into the Roman system. But he insisted that the 
 Roman language should be adopted for all official 
 purposes by the cantonal authorities and by the diet 
 of the three provinces. Modern experience has 
 proved that there is no greater barrier to racial 
 amalgamation than the presence of rival languages 
 existing side by side, and the result of his wise en- 
 actment was that the Roman tongue at once became 
 the tongue of the Gallic nobles and eventually the 
 tongue of the whole country. Augustus's policy 
 of judicious compromise, seen in the preservation 
 of the old cantonal communities for purposes of 
 local government and administration, but seen also 
 in his restriction of the more fanatical forms of 
 the native religion and the imposition of the Roman 
 as the one official language of the country, bore 
 a splendid harvest. When he died, the yoke of 
 Rome over Celtic Gaul was hardly felt as the yoke 
 of an alien power. The processes of amalgama- 
 tion had not only begun but were in full swing, 
 and Gaul was already an integral part of the Roman 
 world. 
 
 In this brief review of what Augustus did for the 
 three Celtic provinces we have said nothing of the 
 older province of Gallia Narbonensis on the Mediter- 
 anean littoral. This was now regarded as belonging 
 rather to Italy than to Gaul. For whereas Augus- 
 tus jealously withheld from Aquitania, Lugdun- 
 ensis, and Belgica the Roman and Latin franchises, 
 these were freely bestowed in Gallia Narbonensis. 
 The cantons were strictly preserved in the one 
 
The Romanisation of the West 261 
 
 case ; they were gradually done away with in the 
 other. The territory which had belonged to the an- 
 cient Greek city of Massilia (Marseilles) had been 
 stripped from her by Julius and new Roman burgess- 
 colonies were planted within it. Forum Julii (Fre- 
 jus) became the northern station of the imperial 
 fleet; while at the mouth of the Rhone there sprang 
 up the great trading city of Arelate (Aries), which 
 in course of time robbed Narbo of much of its im- 
 portance and struck a fatal blow at the waning com- 
 merce of Massilia. In addition to these Roman 
 colonies, a number of other towns arose to which 
 Augustus gave Latin rights. Nemausus (Nimes), 
 Aquae Sextiae (Aix), Avennio (Avignon), Apta (Apt), 
 and many others covered the province with a chain 
 of prosperous communities, while the older cities of 
 Tolosa (Toulouse), on the Aquitanian border, Vi- 
 enna (Vienne), on the Rhone, and Narbo shared in 
 the general development. The Gaul absorbed the 
 Roman in the north ; in the south the Roman ab- 
 sorbed the Gaul. 
 
 What took place throughout Gaul was repeated 
 across the Pyrenees in the great Spanish peninsula. 
 But while the chief credit for the conquest of Gaul 
 belongs to Julius, that of the final subjugation of 
 Spain, with the exception of the old southern pro- 
 vince of Baetica, belongs to Augustus and to his gen- 
 erals. The Republic had sunk millions of money in 
 attempting the conquest of Spain. Army after 
 army had been swallowed up in its plains and hills. 
 It had come to be regarded as the grave of Roman 
 reputations, and more than once the Senate had 
 
262 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 almost despaired of success. Triumphs in plenty had 
 been won there and the Republic boasted of two 
 Spanish provinces, but the Iberian peninsula had re- 
 mained, except along the coast and in Baetica, prac- 
 tically unconquered and unsubdued, and was the 
 natural refuge of lost causes and desperate rebellion. 
 There were, indeed, a few flourishing towns such 
 as Italica, Corduba, Valentia, Gades, and Tarraco. 
 Cnaeus Pompeius had freely distributed the citizen- 
 ship, and JuHus, liberal-handed as ever, had followed 
 his rival's example. Yet the whole of Lusitania 
 (Portugal) was in the hands of the natives ; the 
 north of Spain was held by the unbroken tribes of 
 Iberians and Galicians ; and the vast central districts 
 of the Cantabrians were only quiet while their in- 
 habitants were silently preparing for war. Roman 
 armies had often marched through their midst and 
 received their submission, but at the first favourable 
 opportunity the natives had again sprung to arms. 
 Thus we find that in the period between the death 
 of Julius and the battle of Actium, six Roman gov- 
 ernors had won triumphs in Spain, a fact which 
 points, if not to sweeping victories, at least to al- 
 most incessant warfare. "VVe have already spoken of 
 Augustus's long stay in Spain from B. c. 27 to 24, 
 years which his lieutenants spent in battle while 
 their chief was planting new colonies and perfecting 
 his organisation of the military lines of communica- 
 tion. No sooner had he returned to Rome than the 
 Cantabrians and Asturians broke out in open revolt, 
 and it was not until the year 19 B. C, when Agrippa 
 was sent to take control of the operations in the 
 
The Romanisation of the West 263 
 
 field, that the Cantabrians were finally subdued. 
 Agrippa routed them from their mountain fastnesses 
 and settled them in the plains, and from that time 
 onward there was peace in Spain. The peninsula, 
 which for two hundred years had been the constant 
 theatre of harassing warfare, became the most peace- 
 ful portion of the Roman Empire during the next 
 three centuries. 
 
 Augustus divided Spain into three provinces. Out 
 of the old inchoate province of Further Spain he 
 carved Baetica, which he soon handed over to the 
 Senate, and Lusitania, which still required a consid- 
 erable garrison. To Hither Spain he gave the name 
 of Tarraconensis, from its new capital Tarraco, which 
 was the usual port of entry for those who ap- 
 proached the country by sea from Italy. We have 
 the express testimony of Strabo, writing but a few 
 years later, that the natives of Baetica had already 
 adopted the manners and customs of the Romans so 
 thoroughly that they had become strangers to their 
 mother tongue. They were " almost Romans "; they 
 prided themselves on wearing the toga. Augustus 
 dealt generously with them in the bestowal of the 
 Latin rights and the two new burgess-colonies of 
 Hispalis (Seville) and Astigi (Ecija) became fresh 
 centres of Roman influence. Even in Cicero's time 
 Corduba could boast its native literati, who vent- 
 ured to sing in Roman measures. They excited, it 
 is true, only his derision and contempt, yet a gen- 
 eration later the Roman poets of the Augustan 
 age found no more enthusiastic readers than among 
 the Spanish provincials, who were soon to send to 
 
264 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 Rome itself teachers, poets, philosophers, and even 
 emperors. The Roman lives and treasure which 
 had been poured out in Spain were not wasted, for 
 Spain gave new and vigorous blood to the Empire 
 and amply repaid the debt. In Lusitania and Tar- 
 raconensis, the Romanising process was more slow 
 but it was none the less sure. Roads were the great 
 highways of civilisation then as railways are now, 
 and Augustus thrust his military roads tirelessly for- 
 ward, with permanent garrisons planted at the chief 
 strategical points. In the region of the Ebro he set 
 his new colonies at Celsa, Caesar Augusta, and Der- 
 tosa; Legio Septima (Leon) and Asturica (As- 
 turga) mounted guard in the Asturias; while in 
 modern Portugal the famihar names of Lisbon, 
 Badajos, and Merida are but corruptions of the 
 Roman names of the military colonies which over- 
 awed the hardy mountaineers of ancient Lusitania. 
 *' Fifty tribes which were once constantly at war 
 with one another now live in peace by the side 
 of the Italian colonists," wrote Strabo. " Even so 
 late as the time of Sertorius," says Velleius Pater- 
 culus, ** it seemed doubtful which was the stronger 
 and which would prove the master, the Roman or 
 the Spaniard. But now the provinces which hardly 
 knew respite from wars of iirst-class magnitude are 
 so profoundly peaceful that they scarcely harbour a 
 single brigand." There is Velleius's usual note of 
 exaggeration here — the touch of the partisan jour- 
 naHst rather than the sober historian — but the main 
 point is true. Thanks to Augustus, Spain became 
 a source of strength to the Empire instead of weak- 
 
The Romanisation of the West 265 
 
 ness, and, in grateful recognition of her regenerat- 
 or's work, she continued, down to the late Middle 
 Ages, to reckon the years from the date of his ac- 
 cession and was proud to live under the dispensation 
 of Augustus. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE EASTERN FRONTIER 
 
 THE problem raised by the Eastern frontier was 
 essentially different from the rest, for here 
 alone Augustus had to deal not with barbarians 
 or semi-barbarians, but with an organised empire 
 — a power with which he could treat according to 
 the usages of diplomacy. That power was Parthia. 
 By the treaties of peace with Parthia made by 
 Cnaeus Pompeius, the Euphrates had been fixed as 
 the boundary of Syria as far north as Edessa, and 
 the river, with the Mesopotamian deserts on the 
 eastern bank, formed a natural frontier. But co- 
 terminous with the vassal principalities of Com- 
 magene, Cappadocia, Lesser Armenia, and Pontus 
 which stretched from that point to the Euxine lay 
 Armenia, and here was the standing cause of quarrel 
 between Rome and Parthia. Nominally, Armenia 
 was an independent kingdom, with a royal house 
 of its own, but Parthian influence had long been 
 supreme within its borders. Owing to its strategical 
 position, which was exactly similar to that of Af- 
 ghanistan at the present day in relation to Russian 
 Asia and British India, the policy of Rome was 
 
 266 
 
The Eastei^n Frontie^^ 267 
 
 directed towards making Armenia its ally, so that, 
 in the eventuality of a war with Parthia, the legions 
 might not have to fight their way through the 
 Armenian passes. Roman interests in the country 
 were almost wholly mihtary and strategic ; and the 
 Senate had sedulously fostered the formation of a 
 pro-Roman party in Armenia, though it is abundantly 
 clear that the general sympathies of the people 
 favoured the old Parthian alliance. Armenia thus 
 became Roman and Parthian in turn, according as 
 the throne was filled by a Roman or a Parthian 
 nominee. 
 
 We have narrated in an earlier chapter the cam- 
 paigns of Antonius in this region, and have seen 
 how he placed one of his own children by Cleopatra 
 on the Armenian throne. But after the battle of 
 Actium Armenia rose and thrust out the intruder, 
 and the new monarch signalised his accession by a 
 general massacre of the Romans throughout his 
 country, in revenge for the cruel murder of his father 
 by Antonius. It was doubtless expected by public 
 opinion at Rome that Augustus would lose no time 
 in avenging this massacre by leading his legions, 
 fresh from the conquest of Egypt, into Armenia 
 and restoring the Roman ascendency. But he did 
 nothing of the kind. If there was one clear lesson 
 taught by the repeated Eastern campaigns of recent 
 years it was that they pointed straight to disaster. 
 Augustus declined to regard the anti- Parthian policy 
 of Julius and Antonius as an integral part of his 
 inheritance, and he accepted the position as he found 
 it. It was not an heroic policy — Julius would 
 
268 Anglistics CcEsar 
 
 probably have made the loss of Armenia an imme- 
 diate casus belli with Parthia — but its wisdom was 
 justified by the event. Augustus had the entire 
 Roman world to set in order and was willing to wait 
 until a more convenient season. Yet, though he 
 refrained from war, he came to no definite accom- 
 modation with the Parthian King. The loss of the 
 eagles of Crassus at Carrhae and the two subsequent 
 defeats which had befallen Antonius's lieutenants, 
 Decidius Saxa and Statianus, were blots upon the 
 Roman mihtary honour which had to be wiped out, 
 sooner or later. Public opinion might acquiesce in 
 a temporary, it would not have acquiesced in a 
 permanent, abandonment of Armenia. Augustus, 
 therefore, merely postponed the struggle and re- 
 mained on the watch for a moment when his hands 
 should be free and Parthia should be weak. 
 
 It came at length. There were always Parthian, 
 Armenian, and Median kings in exile, and to these 
 Augustus gave asylum and helped them to foster 
 dissension across the borders. He installed the 
 dispossessed King of the Medes in Lesser Armenia, 
 and lent arms and money to the Parthian pretender, 
 Tiridates. Phraates, anxious for his throne, opened 
 communications with Augustus, who, in turn, 
 pressed for the restoration of the standards of 
 Crassus, but there was no good faith on either side 
 and the negotiations came to nought. However, in 
 B. C. 20 a powerful faction arose in Armenia against 
 the reigning King and sent a deputation to Augustus, 
 begging him to place on the throne Tigranes, the 
 King's brother, who had been brought up in the 
 
The Eastern Frontier 269 
 
 palace at Rome. Augustus was then at Samos and 
 acceded to their wishes. He sent a powerful army 
 into Armenia, under the command of his step-son, 
 Tiberius, then twenty-two years of age, and a blood- 
 less victory was obtained. The King of Armenia 
 was murdered by his own relatives ; Tigranes re- 
 ceived his crown, as a vassal of Rome, from the 
 hands of Tiberius, and the throne of Armenia was 
 once more filled by a Roman feudatory. In the 
 neighbouring country of Media Atropatene another 
 prince, equally friendly to Rome, was installed, and 
 the King of Parthia, alarmed at the presence of the 
 legions upon the Araxes, hastened to make his 
 peace with Augustus. He restored the long-lost 
 standards of Crassus and the remnant of the Roman 
 prisoners who had survived their thirty years* 
 captivity, and the delight of Augustus at having 
 thus rehabilitated the Roman prestige, without risk- 
 ing the desperate uncertainties of war, knew no 
 bounds. The court poets sang their paeans of 
 victory in unmeasured strains ; and Augustus sent 
 valuable gifts to the Parthian King. Among his 
 presents was a beautiful Italian woman named 
 Thermusa, who became the favourite mistress of the 
 King and played the part of Roman ambassadress so 
 well that she induced Phraates to send his children as 
 hostages to Rome. In the Monumentum Ancyra- 
 num Augustus declares that Phraates sought his 
 alliance, not after suffering defeat in war, but of his 
 own free will, by sending the royal children as 
 pledges of his sincerity. It is more probable that 
 the conciliatory attitude of the Parthian was due to 
 
270 Augusttis CcEsar 
 
 the troubled state of his kingdom, and the fact that 
 the mysterious ambassadors from King Pandion, of 
 Scythia, and King Porus, of India, were seeking 
 alHance with Rome may also have influenced his 
 action. 
 
 This settlement of the Eastern Question lasted for 
 about fourteen years. Then the King of Armenia 
 died, and, acting upon the instigation of Parthia, his 
 son assumed the crown without consulting the Ro- 
 man over-lord. Augustus again ordered Tiberius to 
 lead an expedition thither, but he decHned the com- 
 mission and Varus, who took his place, set Artavas- 
 des on the throne. Artavasdes, however, proved an 
 intractable vassal, and in the year I B. C. Augustus 
 despatched the young Caius Caesar, his eldest grand- 
 son by the marriage of Julia and Agrippa, at the 
 head of an important mission to the East. There is 
 a mystery attaching to this mission which has never 
 been cleared up. No expedition which Augustus 
 sanctioned was ever so magniloquently "written up" 
 by the court poets at Rome. They set forth, in the 
 most extravagant vein, the vastness of its scope. 
 Caius — so the world was told — was commissioned 
 not only to set the affairs of Armenia in order, but 
 to lead the Roman armies into Parthia, destroy that 
 empire, penetrate down the valley of the Euphrates 
 to the Persian Gulf, and then conquer and annex 
 Arabia. The campaign, in other words, was to be 
 ordered on such a scale as that on which Alexander 
 or Julius would have conceived it. There is some- 
 thing suspicious in all this bombast, when one re- 
 members the character of Augustus and the extreme 
 
The Eastern Frontier 271 
 
 youth of Caius. It was not the wont of the Em- 
 peror to trumpet forth his intentions and disclose 
 his plans of campaign ; may we not surmise that he 
 was playing a great game at bluff with Parthia ? It 
 is difficult on any other theory to explain why two 
 years were thrown away by Caius in Syria, while his 
 tutor, Lollius, intrigued with and received bribes 
 from the Parthian. The young commander-in-chief, 
 who was to emulate the exploits of Alexander, 
 shewed himself much more anxious to negotiate than 
 to fight, and we can hardly doubt that his line of 
 policy was dictated from Rome. A meeting was 
 eventually arranged to take place upon an island in 
 the Euphrates and a treaty was drawn up whereby 
 Phraates pledged himself to interfere no more in the 
 affairs of Armenia, where the timely death of Artav- 
 asdes prepared the way for the accession of Tigranes, 
 a prince of the old royal house. War with Par- 
 thia, therefore, was again averted by diplomacy, and 
 it is hard to resist the suspicion that this was as 
 agreeable to Augustus as it was to Phraates. All 
 the projects, real or pretended, for a great campaign 
 of conquest in the East fell to the ground, and were 
 heard of no more, and the net result of Caius's 
 mission was the restoration of Armenia to the. 
 sphere of Roman influence and a renewed under- 
 standing with Parthia which remained unbroken 
 throughout the remainder of Augustus's reign. The 
 Emperor's supreme gratification at this success was 
 tempered only by his grief at the death of Caius, 
 who succumbed after a long illness to the effects of 
 a wound which he had received from a treacherous 
 
272 Aiigustus Ccesar 
 
 Parthian officer before the Armenian stronghold of 
 Artageira. 
 
 It is clear, therefore, that the guiding principle of 
 Augustus's Eastern policy was the avoidance of a se- 
 rious war on any terms short of national dishonour. 
 He rightly judged that the problems of the Danube 
 and the Rhine were of much more vital importance 
 to the Empire than the problems arising out of the 
 Eastern frontier, and that Parthia was only danger- 
 ous to an invader and was herself in process of rapid 
 decay. He adopted a strictly conservative attitude 
 and did not seek to extend his boundaries. He 
 might have made Armenia a province ; he preferred, 
 as he says in the Monumentum Ancyranum, to hand 
 it over to Tigranes. And he was wise, for he had 
 no spare legions to act as its garrison. While, there- 
 fore, it cannot be said that Augustus secured a 
 scientific frontier in the East — for the disadvantages 
 of the buffer-state and vassal-kingdom policy are 
 obvious — it was none the less tolerably secure on 
 account of the internal weakness of Parthia. And 
 the rich province of Syria, which, after all, was the 
 Emperor's principal care in this region, was absol- 
 utely safeguarded by the Euphrates and the four 
 legions of the Syrian command. Its capital, Anti- 
 och, was the third city of the Empire in point of 
 population and almost surpassed Rome itself in its 
 luxury and devotion to pleasure. Syria was a great 
 manufacturing centre ; it was the emporium through 
 which passed most of the overland trafific with the 
 Far East, and the Phoenician harbours were busy 
 hives of industry. Poor and desolate though it now 
 
The Eastern Froittier 273 
 
 is, ill the time of Augustus it was a land overflowing 
 with corn, wine, and oil, and one of the wealthiest 
 provinces of the Empire. 
 
 We have already alluded to the vassal kingdoms 
 of the interior of Asia Minor. With the exception of 
 Galatia, which was incorporated in B. c. 25, on the 
 death of King Amyntas, these remained untouched 
 by Augustus. Galatia itself was probably annexed 
 on account of the turbulent condition of Isauriaand 
 Pisidia, where the Emperor planted a few small col- 
 onies of veterans. The others retained their semi- 
 independence. The remainder of Asia Minor had 
 fallen to the Senate in the great division of the pro- 
 vinces. Cilicia, from its proximity to Syria, was 
 afterwards transferred to the Emperor, but the au- 
 thority of the Senate was supreme in Asia and Bi- 
 thynia, in the flourishing Greek cities which fringed 
 the whole coast line, and in the islands of Cyprus 
 and Crete. 
 
 The state of Greece calls for a passing word. Hel- 
 las had fallen into a most deplorable and desolate 
 condition and the whole of Greece, south of Thes- 
 saly, was now known to the Romans by the name of 
 Achaia. Athens, still the home of philosophy and 
 rhetoric, was merely a small university city, a pleas- 
 ant place of resort and retreat. Her commerce had 
 dwindled to the vanishing point ; her harbours at 
 Phalerum were empty of ships ; her temples were 
 falling into decay. And her case was typical of the 
 rest. Corinth was in ruins and had never risen from 
 the ashes in which Memmius had laid her. The Pelo- 
 ponnese was a howling wilderness. '' Magnarum 
 
2 74 Augustus CcEsar 
 
 reriwi magna scpulcJira vides'' — that mournful line, 
 which conjures up before the imagination the graves 
 of dead cities, tells its own tale of silent oracles and 
 vanished polities. Greece had been on the side of 
 Pompeius in the war with Julius ; she had been 
 on the side of Antonius in the war with Augustus. 
 She had been stripped bare to furnish supplies 
 for the hosts which had fought out their quarrels in 
 Thessaly, Macedonia, and at Actium, and was now 
 prostrate. To infuse new life into so exhausted a 
 frame was almost hopeless, but Augustus attempted 
 even this. Athens was punished for the favour she 
 had shewn to Antonius and Cleopatra by being de- 
 prived of iEgina and Megara ; but an additional 
 batch of colonists was sent to Corinth, and new col- 
 onies were founded at Patrae and at Buthrotum in 
 Epirus. Augustus had already laid the foundations 
 of a great city at NicopoHs to celebrate his supreme 
 victory, and with that spirit of conservatism which 
 marked all his acts, he re-established the Amphicty- 
 onic Council for Greece, Macedonia, and Thessaly. 
 To this Council, however, Nicopolis alone sent six 
 deputies, as many as either Macedonia, or Thessaly ; 
 Boeotia, Phocis, and Delphi sent two each ; Doris, 
 Athens, Euboea, Opuntian Locris, and Ozolian Lo- 
 cris had one representative each ; while Argos, 
 Sicyon, Corinth, and Megara had to combine to sup- 
 ply a single deputy. There could be no more start- 
 ling proof of the utter degradation into which the 
 cities of Greece had fallen. The province of Achaia, 
 which at the redistribution of the provinces had 
 been given to the Senate, was, twelve years later, 
 
The Eastern Frontier' 
 
 combined with the imperial province of Macedonia, 
 but was again restored to the Senate by Claudius. 
 Greece had ceased to count, and, alone of all the 
 many provinces of the Roman Empire, she contin- 
 ued to decay. Her sun had set. 
 
 Thessaly and Macedonia fared better than the 
 southern portion of the peninsula, and received new 
 colonies of veterans. Thrace, throughout the reign 
 of Augustus, was ruled by native chiefs friendly to 
 Rome and steadily grew more civilised, as the forma- 
 tion of the province of Moesia and the legions on 
 the Danube protected it from the incursions of the 
 wild tribes of Dacia. The trading cities on the 
 Thracian coast of the Euxine, in the Crimea, and in 
 Colchis maintained a more or less precarious ex- 
 istence in the midst of barbarism and can have con- 
 tributed little to the revenues of the Empire. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 EGYPT, AFRICA, AND PALESTINE 
 
 WHEN Augustus divided the Roman world 
 between himself and the Senate, he care- 
 fully excluded from this partition the an- 
 cient kingdom of Egypt, which remained during 
 his reign and for several centuries after his death on 
 a different footing from every other province, sen- 
 atorial or imperial. Though incorporated in the 
 Empire, it never formally ranked as a province. 
 For all practical purposes it was an appanage of the 
 Principate and almost a private estate of the rul- 
 ing Emperor. Augustus forbade any senator from 
 setting foot upon its soil. He chose its governors 
 from the ranks of the knights, from those, that is to 
 say, V/ho had no imperium because they had never 
 held either the praetorship or the consulship. As 
 the conqueror of Cleopatra and the heir by conquest 
 of the Lagid dynasty, he entered into possession of 
 vast royal domains ; as the ruler of Egypt he be- 
 came lord of a patient, industrious, and submissive 
 nation of agriculturists, accustomed by centuries of 
 obedience to pay heavy taxes without a murmur. 
 The fact that the Emperor annually obtained from 
 
 276 
 
Egypt, Africa, and Palestine 277 
 
 the Nile land twenty million bushels of wheat — a 
 third part of the entire consumption of the capital — 
 as well as an enormous tribute in hard cash, explains 
 why he and his successors attached such prime im- 
 portance to Egypt and took such extraordinary care 
 over the details of its administration. The general 
 who held Egypt held one of the keys of Rome. 
 This was one of the fundamental principles of im- 
 perial policy. Augustus did wisely, therefore, to 
 keep the Egyptian governorship — a post of such 
 magnitude that Strabo said, *' the official, who is 
 sent to Egypt, occupies the place of a King" — for 
 members of his own entourage, upon whose fidelity 
 he could place the most absolute reliance. Cornelius 
 Gallus, who had accompanied Augustus to Alexan- 
 dria after the battle of Actium, was the first im- 
 perial prefect of Egypt, and the position seems to have 
 turned his brain. We are told that he carried his 
 presumption to the point of having his name in- 
 scribed upon the Pyramids, not in the stupid, but 
 harmless, spirit which has prompted countless gen- 
 erations of tourists to imitate his example, but in 
 the spirit of overweening vanity which is bred in 
 small minds by a sense of power. Gallus fell from 
 favour. He was disgraced and ordered back to 
 Rome for trial, where the Emperor bitterly com- 
 plained of his ingratitude and malevolence. Yet, 
 when it seemed likely that the Senate would pass a 
 harsh sentence upon him, Augustus declared that 
 he was the only man in Rome to whom it was not 
 permitted to be angry with his friends. 
 
 Augustus's policy in Egypt, as elsewhere, was to 
 
278 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 interfere as little as possible with existing institu- 
 tions, social, economic, and political. There had 
 been no self-government under the Ptolemies like 
 that which the Romans had found in Syria. The 
 country had been parcelled out into thirty-six dis- 
 tricts or nomes, the entire administration of which 
 was conducted by royal officials. Practically the 
 only change made by Augustus was to install Ro- 
 man officials and to divert the revenues into his own 
 exchequer. He did not seek to Romanise the 
 country, for not a single colony was planted within 
 its borders ; his main object was merely to keep the 
 milch cow in good condition. Then, as now, the 
 prosperity of the land depended upon two condi- 
 tions, — the annual overflow of the Nile and the sys- 
 tem of irrigation works. When Augustus set his 
 legions — greatly, no doubt, to their annoj^ance and 
 disgust — to clean out the canals which the luxuri- 
 ous and effeminate Ptolemies had allowed to become 
 choked with mud, he gave signal proof that he 
 understood the needs of Egypt. The result was, 
 that, whereas when the Romans incorporated the 
 country it required a Nile overflow of fourteen 
 cubits to ensure a full harvest, it soon only required 
 an overflow of twelve, and the eight cubits which 
 previously had spelt famine now represented a fair 
 and sufficient harvest. 
 
 Augustus not only saw the commercial and strat- 
 egical importance of Egypt but embarked upon 
 very speculative military operations in Arabia in 
 order to destroy a commercial rival. The campaign 
 of ^lius Gallus in 25 B.C. is inexplicable except on the 
 
Egypt, Africa, and Palestine 2 79 
 
 supposition that it was a trade war. There were two 
 main trading routes between India and Europe. 
 One lay along the valley of the Euphrates through 
 Parthia into Syria ; the other passed through Arabia 
 and what is now the province of Yemen. The ruins 
 of immense reservoirs cut out of the solid rock at 
 Aden still bear witness to the vanished civilisa- 
 tion which once flourished in this barren region, and 
 the name of Arabia Felix attests its wealth and 
 importance in Roman times. From the cities of the 
 Yemen the caravan route traversed the Arabian 
 shore of the Red Sea, through Leuce Come (the 
 modern Havara) to Berenice at the head of the Sin- 
 aitic peninsula, and thence crossed the Idumaean 
 desert to Petra, the capital of the Nabatsean Syrians, 
 and so to the ports of Gaza and Rhinocolura. This 
 route did not touch Egypt at all ; and the alternat- 
 ive route from Berenice across the Sinaitic pen- 
 insula to Arsinoe, close by the modern Suez, whence 
 goods might be conveyed through the canal — dug 
 ages before by an enlightened Pharaoh — which con- 
 nected the Salt Lakes with the Nile, and so down 
 to the sea at Pelusium, was little used because the 
 canal was choked. Augustus's main efforts were 
 directed to the reopening of a third, but also disused, 
 route to the Far East which avoided the long tracks 
 across the deserts of Arabia. It lay up the Nile 
 as far as Coptos, near Thebes. There goods were 
 transported over the desert to the Red Sea either 
 to Myos Hormos, to Leucos Limen, or to Berenice 
 Troglodytice, the three Egyptian ports of the Red 
 Sea, whence they might be shipped direct to their 
 
28o Augustus Ccesar 
 
 destinations. The pirates of the Arabian Gulf were 
 rigorously suppressed and we are told that fleets of 
 a hundred and twenty sail used to leave annually 
 for India from the port of Myos Hormos alone in 
 the latter days of Augustus. 
 
 Here then we have a clear explanation of the cause 
 which led to the campaign of ^Elius Gallus. The 
 active development of this Nile and over-sea route 
 threatened to ruin the carrying trade of the Homer- 
 ites in Arabia Felix and they doubtless retaliated by 
 harrying the Egyptian merchantmen. An expedi- 
 tion to reduce them to subjection was the natural 
 result. It proved a most inglorious fiasco, for it was 
 wretchedly mismanaged by the Roman commander. 
 He had collected a fleet of 80 warships and 130 trans- 
 ports, together with an army of io,CK)0 men and 
 contingents furnished by the Nabatseans and the 
 Jews, and set sail from Arsinoe. But instead of be- 
 ing taken direct to its objective the force was 
 landed at Leuce Come, half-way down the Red Sea, 
 and spent 180 days in reaching Mariaba, the capital 
 of the Sabaeans, to which Gallus laid siege. During 
 these six months, his army had been wasted by the 
 diseases which are endemic in the country, and 
 by the enormous difficulties incident to campaign- 
 ing in the desert, and so after spending six days be- 
 fore the walls of Mariaba, Gallus ordered a retreat, 
 and the army retraced its steps to Leuce Come, 
 having accomplished nothing, and without even 
 reaching the Homerite territory. No second expedi- 
 tion for the conquest of Arabia was attempted by 
 Augustus, but there is reason to believe that, before 
 
COIN OF HEROD THE GREAT. 
 
 COIN OF DRUSUS AND TIBERIUS. 
 
 COIN OF ANTONIA AUGUSTA. 
 
 COIN OF CAIUS C/ESAR. 
 
/ 
 
Egypt, Africa, and Palestine 281 
 
 the close of his reign, a Roman fleet made its 
 way down to Aden and reduced that city to the 
 position of a mere village. Certainly the Red Sea 
 became Roman water and the trade of the Far East 
 was largely diverted from the old caravan route 
 through Arabia into the Egyptian ports and the 
 Nile route, to the great profit of the Egyptian revenue. 
 The southern border of Egypt was fixed at Syene, 
 where the first cataract interrupted the navigability 
 of the Nile, and Augustus steadily refused to listen 
 to the advocates of a forward policy against Ethi- 
 opia. When Gaius Petronius had beaten back the 
 armies of the Ethopian Queen, who had taken 
 advantage of the absence of Elius Gallus in Arabia 
 to raid across the border, Augustus declined even to 
 demand tribute or formal submission. In the clos- 
 ing years of his reign, when his legions were hard 
 pressed on the Rhine and the Danube, he must have 
 congratulated himself upon his wise determination 
 not to be drawn into the deserts of the Soudan. 
 
 His policy in Africa was guided by similar consid- 
 erations. The Atlas mountains in the far west and 
 the great deserts of the Sahara formed a natural 
 boundary across which he was not tempted to pass. 
 But, even within these limits, there was much work 
 to be done. The Republic had not conquered the 
 whole of the Mediterranean littoral. Practically the 
 only portions which were thoroughly Roman were 
 the ancient territory of Carthage and the Pentapolis 
 of the Cyrenaica. The Roman province of Africa 
 was rich in grain but its compass was small and it 
 was hemmed in on the land side by the kingdom of 
 
282 Augustus CcBsa7^ 
 
 Numidia, with which the RepubHc had been con- 
 stantly at war. To the west lay the two Mauretan- 
 ian kingdoms, afterwards known as Mauretania 
 Tingitana and Mauretania Caesariensis. When, after 
 the battle of Thapsus, the larger part of Numidia, 
 which formed the hinterland of Roman Africa, was 
 incorporated into that province, the two Mauretanian 
 kings, who had supported Julius, were rewarded by 
 an increase of territory. Subsequently, in the quar- 
 rels between Antonius and Octavian, Bogud espoused 
 the cause of the former and lost his throne, which 
 was given to Bocchus. The latter died in B.C. 33, 
 and the whole of Western Africa was bestowed by 
 Augustus in B. C. 25 upon the son of the last king of 
 Numidia, who had been brought up at Rome under 
 the guidance of Augustus and had been married to a 
 daughter of Cleopatra and Antonius. The young 
 Juba amply fulfilled the trust reposed in him. He, 
 and his son after him, continued to rule Mauretania 
 as vassals of the Roman Emperor, until Caligula 
 summoned Ptolemaeus to Rome, put him to death, 
 seized his treasure, and annexed his kingdom. 
 
 The only campaign of note waged in North Africa 
 during the reign of Augustus took place in what is 
 now Tripoli, the eastern part of the senatorial pro- 
 vince of Africa. Lucius Cornelius Balbus penetrated 
 into the Sahara in B.C. 19 as far as the oasis of Fezzan 
 and annexed the district. His was the last senatorial 
 triumph. Henceforward the distinction was reserved 
 for those who wore the purple or belonged to the 
 reigning house. Cyrenaica, which, together with the 
 island of Crete, formed another senatorial province, 
 
Egypt ^ Africa^ and Palestine 283 
 
 is scarcely mentioned throughout this period. But 
 beyond doubt the beginning of the imperial adminis- 
 tration witnessed a remarkable revival of prosperity 
 all along the southern shore of the Mediterranean. 
 Augustus sent a new detachment of veterans to Car- 
 thage to strengthen the colony which Julius had 
 planted there and Carthage speedily became, for the 
 second time, the Queen of Africa, rivalling even Alex- 
 andria in opulence and in the volume of its trade. 
 And while Alexandria continued to be essentially 
 Hellenistic, Carthage was Roman to the core. A 
 number of settlements, with Latin rights, were 
 formed not only on the coast but far in the interior, 
 and the Romanisation of Northern Africa proceeded 
 as rapidly as that of Gallia Narbonensis or Baetica. 
 Its civilisation was destined to be blotted out absol- 
 utely by barbarism just when it was in the height of 
 its glory, but its sand-strewn ruins still testify to the 
 completeness of the Roman occupation and to the 
 marvellous prosperity which it attained as early as 
 the days of the Antonines. 
 
 The affairs of Judaea and Palestine also claim at- 
 tention, by reason of the special interest which 
 attaches to this relatively insignificant quarter of the 
 Empire, as the birthplace of Christ and as the home 
 of the race which proved so sharp a thorn in the side 
 of the Roman government. It does not fall within 
 the limits of this volume to trace the downfall of 
 the Maccabean family and the rise to power of the 
 blood-stained and ferocious, yet capable and astute, 
 Herod, who was known even to his contemporaries as 
 Herod the Great. During his entire career, Herod 
 
284 Augustus CcEsar 
 
 remained consistently faithful to the party which ruled 
 the East. He was a Caesarian while Julius lived ; 
 when Cassius was arming the East for the Republic, 
 he too was on the Republican side ; when Octavian 
 and Antonius divided the world, he ranged himself 
 under the standard of Antonius. Always a vassal 
 king, he accepted without demur the foreign policy 
 of his master of the moment, and even though An- 
 tonius lavished some of Herod's southern districts 
 upon Cleopatra and her children, the supple Idu- 
 maean acquiesced with a good grace and employed 
 his soldiers to collect the tribute for her. So that 
 he kept his crown, Herod's loyalty was beyond re- 
 proach. Then, when the fortunes of Antonius sank 
 at Actium, and the victor was preparing to invade 
 Egypt, Herod was swift to enter into negotiations 
 with Octavian and transfer his allegiance to the new 
 over-lord. His capacity was well known and his 
 power was considerable; Octavian was anxious to 
 keep the Jews quiet, and gladly accepted the over- 
 tures of Herod, whose kingdom was subsequently 
 extended by the inclusion of Joppa and Gaza on the 
 south and by the incorporation of the districts of 
 Iturasa, Batanea, Auranitis, and Trachonitis, which 
 lay east of the Sea of Galilee and stretched north to 
 Damascus. In other words, he ruled over the whole 
 of Palestine in its greatest extent, and none of the 
 other semi-independent kings of the East enjoyed 
 such liberty of action and so many privileges as he. 
 Judaea proper paid no tribute to Rome, whatever 
 imposts were levied on the other districts, and the 
 central government pursued a rigid policy of non- 
 
Egypt, Africa, and Palestine 285 
 
 interference. Augustus, we may suspect, was only 
 too glad to be relieved from the duty of directly 
 governing what Cicero years before had described as 
 a suspicious and spiteful state — tam suspitiosa ac 
 maledica civitas. Herod made an admirable Warden 
 of the March, or, in more homely phrase, a trust- 
 worthy watch-dog at the gates of Egypt. There 
 was little profit to be wrung out of Palestine, and 
 Jews in their own country were harmless as long as 
 they were left to themselves. Unfortunately, how- 
 ever, both for Rome and Palestine, Herod's rule was 
 detested by his Jewish subjects. Though he raised 
 their status among the nations, the fierce national 
 spirit of the priestly theocracy was against him. 
 Herod was only half a Jew ; his sympathies were 
 Hellenist ; and while he rebuilt the Temple on a 
 most magnificent scale he also introduced into Jeru- 
 salem a circus and an amphitheatre — things which 
 were anathema to the fanatical priests. 
 
 His united kingdom was divided at his death in 
 B.C. 4 among his three sons, Philip, Antipas, and 
 Archelaus, neither of whom inherited the capacity 
 of his father. Archelaus, in Judaea, began his reign 
 by appointing a new High Priest who was obnoxious 
 to the people of Jerusalem and the inevitable tumult 
 followed. Varus, the Roman Governor of Syria, 
 was obhged to intervene to restore order, and a de- 
 putation of Jews was sent to petition Augustus at 
 Rome. The Emperor confirmed, in the main, the 
 testament of Herod, while withholding the kingly 
 title from Archelaus, but soon found it necessary to 
 depose him, and, in answer to the solicitations of 
 
286 Anglistics CcBsar 
 
 the Jews themselves, Judaea was declared in A.D. 6 a 
 Roman province of the second rank, an annexe, as it 
 were, of the province of Syria. A small Roman 
 garrison took up its quarters in the castle at Jerus- 
 alem, but Caesarea was the centre of the Roman ad- 
 ministration. The arrangements made by Augustus 
 for the government of Judaea were equitable and 
 just. The tribute, of course, was exacted as in every 
 other Roman province ; but the urban communities 
 were granted self-government and Jerusalem was 
 left to the control of the Jewish Sanhedrin with com- 
 plete judicial and executive authority, subject only 
 to the confirmation of the death sentence by the 
 Roman procurator. The Emperor carefully respected 
 the religious prejudices of the Jews, to which they 
 attached far higher importance than to the good 
 government of their land. Special coins were struck 
 which did not bear the effigy of the Emperor ; the 
 troops left their eagles and standards at Caesarea be- 
 fore marching to Jerusalem ; Augustus and Livia 
 sent sumptuous gifts to the Temple and paid the 
 cost of daily sacrifice on the great altar ; and it was 
 made a crime punishable by death for a Gentile — 
 even if he were a Roman citizen — to profane the 
 inner court by entering it. Such enactments shew 
 the extraordinary pains taken by the central govern- 
 ment to conciliate the Jews and to prevent the Ro- 
 man yoke — imposed, be it noted, at their own 
 request — from chafing their necks. Many a Roman 
 procurator of Judaea found himself sacrificed in the 
 vain hope of placating the Jewish national sentiment. 
 Such then was the policy of Augustus towards the 
 
Egypt, Africa, and Palestine 287 
 
 Jews in their own country. While the strong man, 
 Herod the Great, lived, he was well satisfied that 
 another should rule so stubborn a race ; when Herod 
 died and the incapacity of his sons became manifest, 
 he sought to secure at least a tolerable working ar- 
 rangement by strict non-interference in the internal 
 affairs of Judsea, provided there was no actual revolt. 
 Yet he must have felt that just as Druid worship 
 was the storm centre in Gaul, so the fierce uncom- 
 promising character of the Jewish religion was the 
 storm centre in the East, and that, sooner or later, it 
 would have to be crushed in its home at Jerusalem 
 by the whole might of Rome. The Jewish pro- 
 blem, however, was by no means confined to the 
 barren hills and deserts of Palestine. The Jews 
 were scattered throughout the Empire, clannish and 
 exclusive beyond any people that the world had 
 ever seen, forming colonies of their own in every 
 great city, submissive to the law, intent only upon 
 money-making, and anti-social to a man. The un- 
 easy distrust and suspicion with which they were 
 regarded by the Romans were perfectly natural. 
 The Jews took no part in the life of the communities 
 into which they had thrust themselves. They held 
 aloof from the festivals ; they did not aspire to ob- 
 tain the citizenship, for its privileges entailed obliga- 
 tions and expense. Cicero, in a striking passage 
 in the Pro Flacco, which goes to the very root of 
 this distrust, had declared that the Jewish religion 
 looked askance at the splendour of the Roman Re- 
 public, at the majesty of the Roman name, and at 
 the time-honoured institutions of Rome. Even the 
 
288 Augustus Ccssm^- 
 
 poorest Jew despised the Roman gods and the civ- 
 ilising mission of Rome, and despised, while accept- 
 ing, the toleration which was offered him. The 
 cultured Roman in return was contemptuous of the 
 one jealous and conquered deity who would not 
 fraternise with his brother divinities, while the poorer 
 Roman hated the morose Semite whom he could not 
 understand. The Jews formed practically an iin- 
 perium in hnperio^ paying the annual tribute of a 
 double drachma to the funds of the foreign temple 
 at Jerusalem — a mysterious race, which, by its very 
 persistence, inspired not only hate but fear. 
 
 They were now securely planted in the East, not- 
 ably in Alexandria and the Greek cities of Asia 
 Minor ; and there was a colony of eight thousand 
 Jews in Rome itself. Augustus, continuing the 
 policy of Julius, which in this respect had been the 
 policy of Alexander the Great, confirmed the east- 
 ern Jews in their old privileges and gave them more. 
 They were exempted from military service ; the 
 strict regulations against corporate societies and 
 unions were abated in their favour ; and, when the 
 Greek com^munities of Asia Minor sought to include 
 them in the general levy, Augustus expressly rati- 
 fied the Jewish protest. In Alexandria and Cyrene 
 the Jews had an ethnarch of their own ; in Antioch, 
 Ephesus, and other cities they enjoyed a similarly 
 favoured position. It would seem almost as if Au- 
 gustus set himself to make the Jews of the Diaspora 
 pro-Roman, as a counterpoise in some degree to the 
 prevailing Hellenism of the East. They had no 
 political organisation ; their interests were entirely 
 
Egypt ^ Africa^ and Palestine 289 
 
 centred in their trade and their reh'gion. But he 
 adopted a different policy towards them in the West. 
 There is no evidence that he imposed any check 
 upon their freedom of movement, but certainly in 
 no western city do we find them possessing the 
 practical autonomy which they enjoyed in Alexan- 
 dria. A sharp distinction was drawn between the 
 provinces of Western Europe, which it was the aim 
 of the Emperor to Romanise, and the provinces of 
 the East, which had been thoroughly Hellenised 
 
 long before the Romans set foot within them. 
 19 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE DANUBE AND THE RHINE 
 
 IT remains to consider the policy of Augustus in 
 relation to the northern frontier of the Empire. 
 Elsewhere he practically accepted the bound- 
 aries which had been bequeathed to him by Julius 
 and the Republic ; here he marked out new frontiers 
 of his own and engaged, sometimes vigorously, 
 sometimes reluctantly, in the work of expansion. 
 It will be most convenient in the course of this chap- 
 ter to present a brief connected story of the wars 
 which he waged in order to thrust forward his bound- 
 aries to the Danube, the Rhine delta, and the Ger- 
 man Ocean. We shall then see the legions advance 
 through Germany to the Weser and the Elbe, and 
 finally, after suffering one great military disaster, 
 draw back to the valley of the Rhine. 
 
 The Republic had looked to the North with eyes 
 apprehensive of barbaric invasion rather than eager 
 with the hope of conquest. There had, it is true, 
 been endless petty wars in the province of Cisalpine 
 Gaul on the southern slopes of the Alps, and con- 
 stant campaigns at the head of the Adriatic against 
 the tribes of Illyricum. But, broadly speaking, one 
 
 290 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 291 
 
 may say that the Republic had been content to 
 allow the northern regions of Italy to remain in the 
 hands of the hill men, who, from time to time, pil- 
 laged and harried the dwellers in the valleys, even 
 when the Roman arms were subduing powerful 
 nations in Spain, Africa, and the East. Italy, in 
 fact, was not mistress of her own household until 
 the time of Augustus, and he had started his career 
 of conquest, not in the North but in the North-east, 
 and had begun his long series of annexations by 
 moving towards the Danube. As far back as B.C. 
 35, Augustus had undertaken his first campaign in 
 Pannonia against the lapydes, and advanced to the 
 Save, where he captured the Pannonian capital of 
 Siscia, and, in the course of the next two years, 
 settled a number of military posts along the coasts 
 of Istria and Dalmatia. This occupation of part of 
 Pannonia was intended primarily to prepare the way 
 for a campaign against the Dacians, who were threat- 
 ening the security of Macedonia and the coast towns 
 of Thrace. In the Monumentiim Ancyraniim Au- 
 gustus declares that he never waged war in a wanton 
 spirit of conquest, and Suetonius similarly states 
 that he never took up arms " without just and neces- 
 sary cause." We know so little of what took place 
 behind the screen of the Alps and the Danube that 
 it is almost impossible to discuss the justice of this 
 claim. The fact seems to be that threatening con- 
 federations of the tribes were formed periodically, as 
 capable, warriors rose to power amongst them, and 
 that the Romans and friendly natives who dwelt on 
 the borders were constantly menaced by a flood 
 
292 Augustus Ccssar 
 
 of barbarian invasion. The client states of Rome 
 clamoured for protection, and even in the time of 
 Julius, the Dacians, under Burebista, had swept 
 down as far as Apollonia in a great devastating raid. 
 Antonius himself had helped to drive them back, and 
 then Augustus, when his hands were free after the 
 battle of Actium, sent, in B.C. 29, his lieutenant, 
 Marcus Licinius Crassus, to inflict the punishment 
 which had been so long delayed. The expedition 
 was successful ; the King of the Bastarnae was de- 
 feated and slain ; Crassus advanced to the Danube 
 in its lower reaches, and the foundations were laid of 
 what subsequently became the province of Moesia. 
 The tribes suffered so severely that we hear of no 
 more campaigns in that region until, after the lapse 
 of seventeen years, the barbarians on the farther 
 side of the Danube once more collected for a rush 
 across the river. 
 
 Augustus then proceeded to break up the hill 
 tribes which dwelt among the Rhsetian and Cot- 
 tian Alps. The task was one which could no longer 
 be postponed. Rome needed a secure and direct 
 highway into Gaul, and the passes were in the 
 hands of warlike peoples, as difficult to deal with 
 and as little to be depended upon as the Afridis 
 and Waziris on the north-west frontiers of India. 
 One tribe alone v/as spared, in recognition of the 
 loyalty of its King, Cottius, who, under Roman 
 direction, opened out a great road over Mt. Cenis. 
 Cottius's capital lay at Segusio (Suse), and the two 
 new Roman colonies founded by Augustus at Saluces 
 and Augusta Taurinorum (Turin) were, doubtless, 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 293 
 
 potent influences in keeping him faithful to his allegi- 
 ance. Farther north among the Graian Alps, lay the 
 Salassi, watched by a Roman colony at Eporedia. 
 These were destroyed root and branch. In B.C. 
 25 Marcus Terentius Varro defeated them in battle 
 and the entire nation of forty-four thousand was 
 sold into slavery in the market-place of Eporedia, 
 with the stipulation that the purchasers should 
 remove them far from their native hills and not 
 grant them their liberty for the space of twenty 
 years. The severity of this punishment is perhaps 
 incapable of justification, but it at least solved 
 the problem of the protection of the military roads 
 which Augustus now built over the Little St. 
 Bernard to Lugdunum, the capital of Gaul, and 
 over the Great St. Bernard to the Lake of Geneva 
 and the Rhine. Three thousand praetorians were 
 settled at Augusta Praetoria (Aosta), and a few 
 years later the campaigns of Publius Silius against 
 some of the lesser tribes completed the conquest 
 of the whole region. A great trophy was erected 
 at Segusio to commemorate this series of minor 
 but useful campaigns and the names of forty-four 
 conquered nations were inscribed upon its arch. 
 
 But Augustus was not satisfied with having 
 gained possession of the southern slopes of the 
 Alps. One conquest led on to another and in B.C. 
 15 he commissioned his two step-sons, Tiberius 
 and Drusus, to penetrate into Rhaetia and Vindel- 
 icia. The operations were most skilfully carried 
 out. Drusus entered Rhaetia from the south and, 
 advancing up the valley of the Adige, crossed 
 
294 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 the Brenner Pass and defeated the Rhaetians in 
 what is now the Austrian Tyrol ; while Tiberius, 
 moving with a second army from Gaul, fell upon 
 the Vindelici in their rear. In a naval battle on 
 Lake Constance the Roman triremes overwhelmed 
 the barbarian flotillas, and the two imperial armies 
 marched without mishap from victory to victory 
 through some of the most difficult country in 
 Europe. Horace, in one of his finest odes, cele- 
 brated the glories of Drusus's campaign with 
 genuine enthusiasm, and reflected the proud con- 
 fidence of the Roman world that there was no 
 military operation beyond the powers of the 
 Claudian house. " Nil Claitdics non perficient 
 ma7msy The empire seemed safe which was sup- 
 ported by two such imperial pillars, and by an 
 Emperor so discerning of genius in the younger 
 branches of his family. 
 
 Thus, for the first time, the northern slopes of 
 the Alps became Roman territory, and Roman 
 influence spread along the middle reaches of the 
 Danube. In accordance with his usual practice, 
 Augustus sought to break the power of the tribes 
 by settling them in the valleys and by the founda- 
 tion of military colonies ; while the outpost of the 
 Empire at this period was fixed at Augusta Vindel- 
 icum (Augsburg) a few miles south of the Danube. 
 Apparently without the need of another campaign, 
 the spacious district lying to the east of Rhaetia, 
 with the Danube for its northern and Pannonia for its 
 eastern boundary, became the province of Noricum. 
 On the western side, the dangerous gap of open coun- 
 
TIBERIUS. 
 
 FROM THE STATUE IN THE VATICAN MUSEUM, ROME. 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 295 
 
 try lying between the Danube and the Rhine was 
 protected by settlements of Gallic colonists, trans- 
 planted thither from beyond the Rhine, and the 
 region was known as " the tithe lands " or Agri 
 Deaunates. Yet much hard fighting lay before the 
 Roman legions and there were many hours of cruel 
 anxiety in store for Augustus before the Danube 
 along; its whole course became the frontier of the 
 Empire. The province of Illyricum remained for 
 many years an open sore. In the campaign of 
 35 Augustus had not advanced beyond the Save, 
 and the wild Pannonian tribes had not been 
 thoroughly crushed. Their marauding bands evaded 
 the Roman legions and constantly poured down 
 upon the Adriatic. In B.C. 13, the situation was suffi- 
 ciently serious to call for the presence of Agrippa, 
 and upon his death the disturbances broke out anew. 
 Tiberius was despatched thither at the head of a 
 large army and, while his brother, Drusus, waged 
 successful and aggressive war in North Germany, 
 he conducted three campaigns in Pannonia from 
 B.C. 12-10. The result was an advance from the Save 
 to the Drave and the headquarters were removed 
 from Siscia to Poetovio (Pettau), while Carnuntum 
 on the Danube, close to the modern city of Vienna, 
 became the station of the Norican legion. The 
 great bend of the Danube does not seem to have 
 been occupied, and its incorporation took place 
 later. Simultaneously with the revolt of the Pan- 
 nonians came the rising in Thrace, where the na- 
 tive pro-Roman party was expelled and the tribes 
 penetrated into Macedonia. Happily, however, 
 
296 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 Lucius Piso, the Governor of Pamphylia, who was 
 sent to take command of the Roman troops, proved 
 himself equal to the emergency. The invaders 
 were driven back and Augustus placed Rhoemet- 
 alces upon the throne of Thrace. From B.C. 9 
 to A.D. 6 we hear nothing of the movements of 
 the legions on the Danubian frontier. Rhaetia, 
 Noricum, Pannonia, Moesia, — the whole chain of 
 new border provinces from west to east, — were 
 outwardly peaceful and the natives seemed to have 
 resigned themselves to the Roman rule. 
 
 But they were still to make one last desperate 
 struggle for freedom, which taxed to the very 
 utmost the military strength of Rome. The rising 
 was exceedingly well timed. In A.D. 6 Augustus, 
 emboldened by the apparently complete subjection 
 of North Germany, had commissioned Tiberius to 
 invade the territory of Maroboduus, the King of 
 the Marcomanni, who held what is now Bohemia. 
 It was decided to employ not only the Rhenish 
 legions, but the whole army of the Danube, inas- 
 much as the main invasion was to take place from 
 the southern side. Tiberius, therefore, advanced 
 to Carnuntum with six legions, denuding the gar- 
 rison towns of troops as he marched north and 
 calling upon the native levies to join him. The 
 levies collected but, instead of moving to Car- 
 nuntum, they raised the standard of revolt and 
 in an instant the whole of Pannonia and Dalmatia 
 was ablaze. According to the Roman estimates, 
 the insurgents mustered 200,000 infantry and 9000 
 horsemen, who spread over the provinces, murder- 
 
The Dajiube and the Rhine 297 
 
 ing every Roman who fell into their hands and 
 destroying in a few weeks the patient labour of 
 many years. The situation was indeed critical. 
 Tiberius, with his army, was absolutely cut off 
 from his base. He was confronted by Marobo- 
 duus and the Marcomanni ; his rear was threatened 
 by the rebels, and, as though to crown the mis- 
 fortunes of Rome, the Dacians burst across the 
 Danube and overran the province of Moesia. 
 Only the Thracian King Rhoemetalces remained 
 true to his allegiance and helped to stem the 
 raging torrent. 
 
 Rome was in a fever of apprehension similar to 
 that which had prevailed in the days of Marius, 
 when the Cimbri were pouring through the passes 
 of Cisalpine Gaul. It was fully believed that the 
 barbarians of Dalmatia were on their way to Italy, 
 and there was hardly a single legion to intercept 
 their march. The dangers of the policy, deliber- 
 ately adopted by Augustus, of removing as far 
 as possible from the seat of empire the great 
 military commands were now made manifest. 
 Hurriedly, therefore, new levies were raised. The 
 veterans were summoned to resume their armour ; 
 and not only freedmen but slaves, enfranchised 
 by the State on their enrolment, were pressed into 
 the legions. Augustus himself warned the Senate 
 that unless they rose to the emergency they might 
 see within ten days the barbarians at their gates, 
 and Velleius declares that even the cool and col- 
 lected Emperor, familiar as he was with desperate 
 crises, shared the panic which fell upon Italy. The 
 
298 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 peril was instant and, if Maroboduus had boldly 
 advanced to attack Tiberius and had made common 
 cause with the Pannonians and Dalmatians, the 
 Roman arms might have suffered a grave disaster. 
 But the good fortune of Rome came once again 
 to her succour. Tiberius, fully realising his desperate 
 position, immediately opened negotiations with the 
 enemy who faced him. His overtures were not 
 repulsed ; an accommodation was arrived at ; the 
 Marcomanni remained tranquil ; and Tiberius was 
 left free to employ his legions in quelling the 
 revolt in his rear. Troops from the transmarine 
 provinces were hastily despatched to his assistance, 
 while the new Italian levies, under the command 
 of the young Germanicus, crossed the border and 
 pressed back the insurgent bands. Tiberius seems 
 to have marched down to Siscia on the Save, where 
 he was within easy communication with Rome, and 
 to have gathered into winter quarters a vast army 
 of fifteen legions and an equal number of auxili- 
 aries, by whose help, during the following summer, 
 he broke the back of the rebellion. Three cam- 
 paigns, however, were found necessary before the 
 task was completed and the Pannonian leaders sued 
 for peace and pardon. 
 
 The progress of those campaigns need not be fol- 
 lowed in detail, but Suetonius lays stress, in his Life 
 of Tiberius, on the enormous difficulties which the 
 Roman general had to overcome, partly due to the 
 character of the country and partly to the problem of 
 providing supplies for so large a force. He adds, too, 
 the striking sentence : " Though Tiberius was con- 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 299 
 
 stantly receiving messages of recall, he stuck to his 
 work, fearing lest the enemy, still hovering round 
 him in strength, should fall upon his army if he made 
 a backward movement." So, too, Dion Cassius de- 
 clares that Augustus suspected Tiberius of deliber- 
 ately prolonging the war, in order that he might 
 remain at the head of his powerful force. But 
 whatever motives were uppermost in the mind 
 of the Emperor — and it maybe pointed out that 
 Tiberius himself in after years adopted a precisely 
 similar attitude towards Germanicus — there is no 
 doubt that Tiberius shewed a true discernment of 
 the necessities of the situation in teaching the in- 
 surgents a lesson which they never forgot. Half- 
 conquests were futile in dealing with the tribesmen 
 of Dalmatia and Pannonia, and three years were 
 well spent in bringing them to their knees. They 
 submitted in detachments, but large numbers con- 
 tinued to wage guerilla warfare long after all hope 
 of national independence had vanished. The chief- 
 tain Bato was one of the last to yield, and on being 
 brought into the presence of Tiberius and asked 
 what had prompted him to revolt, he replied that 
 Rome herself was responsible for the insurrection 
 because she had sent wolves instead of shepherds 
 to protect her sheep. Whether the tribute exacted 
 by the Emperor from these Danubian provinces 
 had been excessive, or whether the imperial tax- 
 collectors had fleeced the natives, we cannot say. 
 Similar excuses for revolt have often been put 
 forward simply to cover an incurable objection to 
 paying any taxes at all, however moderate, and we 
 
300 Atigustus CcBsar 
 
 may more probably attribute this dangerous rebel- 
 lion, " the most dangerous," in the carefully weighed 
 words of Suetonius, " since the Punic wars," to the 
 fierce spirit of nationality which made a last gigan- 
 tic effort to win back a lost independence. When 
 Tiberius at length returned to Rome, the victories 
 he had won were consolidated by Germanicus and 
 the new province of Pannonia became one of the 
 chief recruiting grounds of the Roman auxiliary 
 army. Rome, too, found an able soldier, outside the 
 Imperial family, in Gnaeus Lentulus, the Governor 
 of Moesia. He not only repulsed the Dacians, who 
 had crossed the frozen Danube in its lower reaches, 
 but himself led for the first time a Roman army 
 into Dacian territory, signally defeated the Getae 
 and Bastarnae, and carried back with him across 
 the river fifty thousand Dacian captives, whom he 
 settled in Thrace. During the short remainder of 
 Augustus's reign there was peace on the Danube. 
 
 But there was war on the Rhine. No sooner had 
 Rome begun its rejoicings over the pacification of 
 Pannonia than the dreadful tidings arrived from 
 Germany that Quintilius Varus had suffered an 
 overwhelming disaster, that the general was dead, 
 and that his entire army of three legions, three regi- 
 ments of auxiliaries, and six cohorts had been cut 
 to pieces by the German barbarians. Let us then 
 turn to the Gallic frontier and recount the cir- 
 cumstances which culminated in this staggering de- 
 feat and the wreck of many of Augustus's most 
 cherished hopes. We have seen in a previous chap- 
 ter how the Emperor had made the Rhine the east- 
 
MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE RHINE FRONTIER. 
 
 
 B ELG I C A V< " 
 
 ,• ^-^Mo|pntiacura MA^Rcomann. 
 
 / Mjp^ehtoratum y— -^ ^^'^ji^^'i^ -, 
 
 ^ / ^3 ^•pmJDELICA^.^.-- ^^ 
 
 
 r- V *s&LASSnEporedia 
 
 aenna •r>?aifo '^ oMediolanuin 
 
 SeqiSw^ oAugusta / 
 •^ ^ Taurmorum 
 
 East Lon^. 6 
 
 London: Stanford's Geog^Estab* 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 301 
 
 ern frontier of Gaul. It seems probable, though on 
 this point the authorities are silent, that during the 
 early part of his reign Augustus had no thought 
 of penetrating far across the river into the territory 
 of the Germans. His main object had been rather 
 to secure the Gallic provinces from invasion than to 
 extend his borders. But as time went on, and his 
 troops began to push north — still on the left bank — 
 into the Netherlands, and as he found that he could 
 not safely ignore what transpired upon the right bank 
 of the river, he was insensibly drawn into adopting a 
 forward Germanic policy. Then, as his proverbial 
 good fortune continued to attend him and his first 
 ventures across the stream proved successful, it 
 would appear that Augustus decided to advance his 
 frontier, first from the Rhine to the Weser, and 
 then from the Weser to the Elbe. By so doing he 
 would remove all pressure from Gaul, and he had 
 fair grounds for hope that the signal triumph which 
 had crowned his conciHatory policy towards the 
 Gallic cantons would be repeated among the Ger- 
 man tribes. This we believe to be the true ex- 
 planation of the course which events took in the 
 Rhineland. Having gone so far, Augustus found 
 himself compelled to go still farther and annex 
 in spite of himself. Again the parallels of British 
 annexations in India and Burmah and of the Rus- 
 sian advance in Central Asia leap to the mind. 
 Conquering states are driven forward by their own 
 momentum quite as much as by carefully calculated 
 reasons of policy, whenever they come in contact 
 with less highly organised communities. It is also 
 
302 Augustus C{?sar 
 
 to be remembered that when great armies are col- 
 lected in standing camps along a frontier their com- 
 manding officers invariably chafe at inaction and 
 impress upon the home government the feasibility 
 of further advance. In the case of the armies of the 
 Rhine, those commanders were Princes of the Im- 
 perial House, eager to shew themseh^es worthy and 
 capable in the old Roman way — the way of mili- 
 tary conquest. And the Emperor himself, cautious 
 though he was, knew that a series of brilliant vic- 
 tories, gained by the younger members of his family, 
 was at once the shortest road to popular favour and 
 the most effective method of silencing criticism at 
 home. It is at least significant that no great for- 
 ward movement on a large scale took place upon 
 the Rhine until B.C. 12, when the young Prince, 
 Drusus, made his first Germanic campaign. 
 
 This was not, of course, the first occasion on 
 which Romans and Germans had faced one another 
 in the field. Agrippa had crossed the Rhine as 
 early as 38 B-C in order to protect the friendly clan 
 of the Ubii from the attacks of their kinsmen and 
 to facilitate their transference to the left bank. In 
 B.C 25 a punitive expedition had been undertaken 
 to avenge the massacre of some Roman merchants. 
 Five years later the presence of Agrippa had again 
 been required to expel an irruption of German 
 tribes, and in 16 B.C- the Sugambri, Usipites, and 
 Ter. ::eri hid zrzssed the river in force at various 
 ^^ .'.-.I 11 i-ei far and wide in the province of 
 BrlgicE- They inflicted a humiliating defeat upon 
 the F : : 1 r r : ~ : : mmanded by Marcus Lollius, 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 303 
 
 Compared with the annihilation of the army of 
 Varus, twenty-five years later, this was justly de- 
 scribed by Suetonius as '' major is iyif amice guam 
 detrim£7iti'' — a blow to Rome's prestige rather than 
 to her military strength— for it was speedily re- 
 paired by the presence of Augustus and Agrippa, 
 who hurried to the scene with powerful reinforce- 
 ments, only to find that the invaders retreated 
 hastily before them without offering battle. But 
 the unsoldierly behaviour of the Fifth Legion in the 
 face of the enemy and the loss of its eagle made a 
 painful impression upon public opinion, and it was 
 to wipe out the memory of this military disgrace 
 that Augustus sanctioned the aggressive campaign 
 undertaken by Drusus in B.C. 12, after his victories 
 in Rhaetia and Vindelicia. 
 
 Such a campaign, however, was not undertaken 
 for sentimental reasons alone. The Germans had 
 once more assumed the offensive. United in a 
 powerful confederacy, consisting of the Sugambri, 
 the Cherusci, and the leading Suebian tribes, with 
 the exception of the Chatti, they again crossed the 
 Rhine, so confident of victory that they had already 
 agreed among themselves as to the division of the 
 spoils. But Drusus was more than a match for the 
 German chieftains. He drove the invaders back, 
 ravaged the territory of the Sugambri and the 
 Usipites from Cologne to Nimeguen, and then, when 
 the confederacy had dissolved under the stress of 
 defeat, he proceeded to carry out his own plan of 
 campaign. This was to establish the Roman arms 
 along the North Sea coast to the mouths of the 
 
304 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 Weser and the Elbe by means of a joint naval and 
 military expedition. Such a scheme must have been 
 maturing for some years. From the fact that the 
 Batavian tribes in the Rhine delta offered no oppos- 
 ition, and that the Frisians actually assisted in the 
 expedition, we may suppose that Drusus's emissaries 
 had been busy amongst them, purchasing their sup- 
 port against their neighbours, in accordance with the 
 traditional policy of Julius, which had facilitated his 
 conquest of Gaul. Still stronger evidence is found 
 in the circumstance that Drusus had gathered a 
 large flotilla of transports and that a canal had been 
 dug from the Rhine to the Zuyder Zee (Lacus 
 Flevus) to avoid, as far as possible, the perils of the 
 open sea. The expedition proved successful. The 
 fleet of the Bructeri was defeated in the river Ems ; 
 and Drusus reached in safety the mouth of the 
 Weser. Then, while returning by the way it had 
 come, his fleet ran aground on the Frisian coast, and, 
 but for the help of the natives, would have suffered 
 disaster. By this campaign Drusus gained new allies 
 for Rome and a hold over the North Coast. In the 
 following year (B.C. 11) he began his great invasion 
 of Germany proper. Again the dissensions of the 
 German tribes were of the greatest service to Rome. 
 While Drusus had been absent in the North Sea the 
 Sugambri had invaded the adjoining territory of the 
 Chatti. Seizing their chance, the legions stationed 
 on the Rhine had moved into the vacant territory, 
 and Drusus, on his return, marched triumphantly to 
 the Weser without having to fight any important 
 action. While returning to winter quarters with his 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 305 
 
 main army he came within an ace of destruction at 
 Arbalo, — the site of which defies identification, — 
 where only the overconfidence of the Germans 
 saved him from annihilation. 
 
 In the following year (B.C. 10) the Chatti were 
 conquered ; in B.C. 9 the Marcomanni withdrew into 
 Bohemia and the victorious Drusus continued his 
 triumphal progress from the Weser to the Elbe, 
 through the territory of the Cherusci. There the 
 legions halted, but on their way back they suffered 
 an irreparable loss in the death of their gallant and 
 youthful commander. Drusus was thrown from his 
 horse and, after suffering the agony of a broken 
 thigh for thirty days, died, to the grief of his soldiers 
 and of the whole Roman world. His elder brother, 
 Tiberius, hastened north to take over the command 
 and, during the next two years, carried on with 
 vigour the work which Drusus had begun. In five 
 years, therefore, Rome had asserted her mastery 
 over the vast expanse which was bounded by the 
 Rhine, the North Sea, the Elbe, and the Saal, and 
 the exploits of Julius in Gaul had been repeated in 
 Germany. We may be tolerably certain that the 
 Emperor and his ministers believed that a vast new 
 province had been added to the Empire. They 
 thought that the frontier had been permanently 
 thrown forward to the Elbe, and that the next move 
 of the legions would be to advance southward from 
 the Saal into Bohemia, until they reached the Dan- 
 ube on the bank opposite to the new Roman ter- 
 ritory of Vindelicia. Warned by his experiences in 
 Pannonia and lUyricum, Augustus was probably 
 
J 
 
 06 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 quite prepared for spasmodic insurrection, and the 
 fact that no standing camp was estabhshed for the 
 troops to the east of Aliso, on the Ems, shews that 
 the Emperor proceeded with caution. But the peace 
 which reigned in Germany during the next few years 
 must have been very flattering to his hopes. He 
 transplanted the irreconcilable Sugambri across to 
 the very seaboard of Gaul and settled among the 
 Gallic cantons a number of the Suebian tribes. He 
 thus removed all danger of German irruptions into 
 Gaul, and, by creating a pro-Roman party among 
 the princely houses of the Cherusci, gradually ex- 
 tended his sway over the heart of Germany. The 
 legions marched east every summer to put down in- 
 surrection and disorder, returning every autumn to 
 their winter quarters on the Ems and the Rhine. It 
 seemed as though the Romanisation of Germany 
 would involve no greater difficulties than had been 
 successfully surmounted elsewhere. 
 
 Tiberius had laid down the German command in 
 B.C. 6 ; he resumed it in A.p. 4, on his reconciliation 
 with Augustus and his restoration to favour. It was 
 the post which needed the ablest general and ad- 
 ministrator in the imperial service, and such Tiberius 
 had proved himself to be. His campaigns of A.D. 5 
 and 6 were carried out in the country lying between 
 the Weser and the Elbe, while the Roman fleet again 
 navigated the North Sea, exploring the coast as far 
 as the northern extremity of Jutland and then sail- 
 ing up the Elbe to co-operate with the land forces. 
 Then, feeling sure that the subjugation of the North 
 was completed, Tiberius prepared to attack the Mar- 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 307 
 
 comanni in their Bohemian fastnesses. Their King, 
 Maroboduus, had copied to some extent the Roman 
 military model, and had gathered together a fight- 
 ing force of 70,000 infantry and 4000 horsemen. 
 With him were allied, more or less loosely, the 
 tribes on the right bank of the Elbe, the Semnones 
 and the Suevi, who now felt that it would be their 
 turn next to be attacked by the restless Romans. 
 Hitherto Maroboduus had remained neutral in the 
 long strife between Rome and the Germans ; he 
 now, in A.D. 6, found his territory threatened with 
 invasion on two sides. Sentius Saturninus advanced 
 with an army from Mogontiacum (Mayence) up the 
 valley of the Main through what is now the north- 
 ern part of Bavaria, while Tiberius, quitting Ger- 
 many, had concentrated an army of twelve legions 
 at Carnuntum, on the Danube, in order to enter 
 Bohemia from the south. But, as we have seen, it 
 was at this moment that the whole of Pannonia and 
 Illyricum rose in rebellion at the back of Tiberius 
 and Maroboduus consented to make peace, instead 
 of prosecuting the war with tenfold vigour. History 
 has not recorded the terms upon which he agreed to 
 sheathe the sword, but we may fairly suppose that 
 he received specific guarantees from Tiberius that his 
 territory would not be invaded, and that the Emperor 
 pledged himself to respect the integrity of his domin- 
 ions. Whether that pledge — if it were given — would 
 have been kept when the hands of Augustus were 
 again free is more than doubtful, but circumstances 
 soon arose which compelled a revision of his whole 
 frontier policy with respect to Germany. 
 
3o8 Augustus Ccesa7^ 
 
 While Maroboduus continued to turn a deaf ear to 
 the representations and entreaties of the German pa- 
 triots, a new star was appearing in the North. Among 
 the princes of the Cherusci was one, named Ar- 
 minius, who, upon the submission of his father, Sigi- 
 mer, had frequented the Roman camps and seen 
 service with the legions. He had been granted the 
 Roman citizenship and the rank of an eques, and 
 had carefully studied Roman tactics. Enjoying 
 as he did the full confidence of the commander-in- 
 chief in Germany, his loyalty was held to be above 
 suspicion, in spite of the information frequently laid 
 against him by his personal enemy Segestes. Yet it 
 is important to point out that the rebellion which 
 he fomented was in no sense a national rising of the 
 whole of Germany. Even when Arminius threw off 
 all disguise, Maroboduus never stirred, while the 
 Batavi, Frisii, Chauci, and the other tribes of the 
 North hardly made a sign. The revolt was strictly 
 local in character, and its marvellous success was due 
 rather to the appalling incapacity of a Roman gen- 
 eral than to the genius of Arminius or to the num- 
 bers which he placed in the field. The tragic story 
 which remains to be told irresistibly reminds the 
 English reader, in certain of its leading features, of 
 the tale of the Indian mutiny. Quintilius Varus, 
 the Gallic commander-in-chief, was utterly unfitted 
 for high command. He had owed his promotion 
 directly to court favour and to his marriage with a 
 niece of the Emperor, while he had grown rich on 
 the plunder of Syria. Nor did he possess a single 
 soldierly quality. He was a sluggard in mind as in 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 309 
 
 body, and better suited, in the scathing phrase of 
 Velleius, for the repose of camps than for the hard- 
 ships of a campaign. His political insight was as 
 faulty as his generalship. Varus believed that the 
 national spirit of the Germans around him had been 
 broken. He refused to listen to the reports of his 
 intelligence officers ; he trusted Arminius as im- 
 plicitly as the British colonels trusted their Sepoys. 
 Lulled into a false sense of security, he closed his 
 eyes to the evidences of treason which were laid be- 
 fore him. *' Frequentissimum initium calamitatis 
 securitas " — in that phrase we have the adequate ex- 
 planation of the success of Arminius. Varus thought 
 that the Germans were sufficiently tamed to endure 
 the introduction of Roman methods and customs, 
 and acted as though he were an urban praetor pre- 
 siding over the law courts in the Forum rather than 
 a general in the heart of an enemy's country. 
 
 Such was the man to whom the supreme command 
 of the Rhine legions had been entrusted, and in the 
 year 9 the crisis came. Varus was then in his sum- 
 mer quarters on the Weser, in the neighbourhood of 
 the modern Minden. His communications with the 
 Rhine were kept open by a chain of small posts 
 along the road which ran through Aliso to Vetera, 
 the headquarters of the northern army on the Rhine. 
 He spent the summer in hearing lawsuits and ad- 
 justing quarrels, and then in the autumn pre- 
 pared to lead his army back. In order to punish 
 some refractory districts, he decided to take a cir- 
 cuitous route, which led him away from the main 
 road, and set out with an army of about 20,000 men, 
 
3IO Augustus CcBsar 
 
 encumbered with baggage and hampered by the 
 presence of a large number of women and children. 
 He was not anticipating serious opposition, but was 
 merely marching from summer to winter quarters — 
 a circumstance which helps to explain, though it 
 does not in the remotest degree justify, his utter un- 
 preparedness for attack. No sooner had he reached 
 difficult country than the people rose in insurrection 
 all round him. Arminius himself accompanied the 
 general and supped in his tent, and on the very 
 evening before he quitted the Roman lines, his rival, 
 Segestes, had denounced his intended treason to 
 Varus, and had implored him to seize them both 
 and hold them as hostages until his warning should 
 be verified by fact. Varus refused to believe, and 
 blundered on, nor was it until Arminius had absented 
 himself and then speedily reappeared at the head of 
 an armed host attacking the Roman column that the 
 general recognised the trap into which he had fallen. 
 Even then the army need not have been lost, if 
 there had been a capable general in command of the 
 legions. Roman troops had often found themselves 
 in equally ugly corners, but had shaken off their 
 adversaries and extricated themselves from peril. 
 Their communications were cut ; they were sur- 
 rounded by forests and swamps ; they had to fight 
 for every forward step they took, and they were 
 cruelly hampered by the severity of the weather and 
 the encumbrances of the women and the wounded. 
 Yet, though their plight was bad, it was no worse 
 than that from which Julius Caesar, Marcus Antonius, 
 and the younger Drusus had emerged in triumph. 
 
COIN OF AUGUSTUS AND LIVIA. 
 
 COIN STRUCK BY TIBERIUS IN MEMORY OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 3 1 1 
 
 But not only was Varus himself absolutely incom- 
 petent ; his staff officers, apparently, were equally 
 destitute of military science, leadership, and even 
 courage. The cavalry were led from the field of bat- 
 tle by their craven commander in disgraceful flight, 
 only to be surrounded and cut to pieces a few miles 
 farther on. The infantry stood their ground man- 
 fully until Varus, who was wounded early in the 
 battle, took his own life. From the fact that his 
 friends tried to burn the body to prevent it from 
 falling into the enemy's hands, we may infer that the 
 army of Varus was not rushed in one great onslaught, 
 but rather that the attack was renewed on successive 
 days, and that the legions were overwhelmed piece- 
 meal as the march gradually became a rout. De- 
 spairing of safety, most of the officers imitated the 
 example of Varus, and committed suicide, until at 
 length the sole survivor surrendered what remained 
 of the army to Arminius. Such was the fate of Va- 
 rus and his legions, and such the heavy penalty paid 
 by arrogance and incompetence. The whole host 
 perished miserably. Only a few stragglers managed 
 to reach Aliso in safety, while most of those who 
 had surrendered were barbarously put to death by 
 their captors. Some were crucified ; others were 
 buried alive ; others were offered as sacrifice on the 
 altars of the German priests, and their heads were 
 nailed to the trees of the forests. And it is signifi- 
 cant that the victors reserved their most appalling 
 tortures not for the combatants, but for the advo- 
 cates and pleaders whom they found in Varus's 
 camp. Florus preserves the legend that when one 
 
312 Augustus CcEsar 
 
 of these luckless lawyers had his tongue cut out and 
 his mouth sewn up, his savage executioners taunted 
 him with the gibe : '' At last, you viper, cease your 
 hissing." The story has its historical importance as 
 shewing how deeply the iron of the Roman law had 
 entered into the soul of the free German barbarian. 
 Some historians have sought to explain the defeat 
 of Varus and the indifferent behaviour of his troops 
 by the supposition that these three legions were 
 composed mainly of recruits, and that the Rhine 
 had been denuded of its veterans to reinforce the 
 Danubian legions in Pannonia and Illyricum. But 
 in the face of the explicit statement of Velleius, 
 who describes the legions of Varus as the flower of 
 the Roman army,"^ this supposition is scarcely ten- 
 able. Helpless incompetence, such as that displayed 
 by Varus and his staff, has led to the destruction of 
 even finer armies than that which perished so miser- 
 ably in one of the defiles of the mountain ranges of 
 Munster and left its three eagles in the possession 
 of the exultant Germans. It was fortunate, indeed, 
 for Rome that even in the moment of depression 
 attending this shattering defeat, there were found 
 one or two capable men on the spot who knew how 
 to avert the full consequences of the disaster. One 
 of these, Lucius Caedicius, was stationed at Aliso. 
 When the Germans, flushed with their triumph, ad- 
 vanced to overwhelm him, he resolutely bore the 
 siege as long as his supplies held out, and then, quit- 
 ting his encampment under cover of night, succeeded 
 
 * Exercitus omnium fortissimus, disciplina, matiu, experientiaque 
 bellorum inter Romanos milites princeps. 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 313 
 
 in fighting his way through to Vetera on the Rhine. 
 Thanks to Csedicius, who thus delayed the rush of 
 Arminius, Lucius Monius Asprenas, in command of 
 two legions at Mogontiacum (Mayence), had time to 
 move north to Vetera, to secure the passage of the 
 river, and to allay the excitement among the Ger- 
 man tribes and Gallic cantons on the left bank. 
 Arminius did not even essay to cross the Rhine, 
 and the worst fears which were entertained at Rome 
 were not realised. It was fortunate again for Au- 
 gustus that the King of the Marcomanni still re- 
 mained faithful to his neutrality. Arminius sent 
 him the head of Varus, as a ghastly proof of victory 
 and as an incitement to him to join in the national 
 movement, but Maroboduus merely forwarded the 
 head to Augustus and kept his faith with Rome. 
 No wonder the Romans made Fortune a goddess 
 and worshipped at her shrine. 
 
 Rome had been preparing to celebrate with un- 
 usual magnificence the victories of Tiberius and 
 Germanicus in Illyricum when the calamitous news 
 arrived. At once panic and despair seized upon the 
 capital. The festivals were abandoned, the games 
 were forgotten, and alike in the Palace, in the Sen- 
 ate, and in the Forum, all trembled with fear lest 
 the next courier should bring word that the whole 
 of Gaul was ablaze. Tiberius, fortunately present 
 in Rome at this critical hour, was sent to take over 
 the command on the Rhine for the third time, with 
 every available soldier who could be spared for the 
 purpose. But the now aged Emperor completely 
 broke down under the blow. In a graphic and 
 
314 Augtcstus CcBsar 
 
 familiar chapter Suetonius describes how Augustus, 
 for long months together, neglected the care of his 
 person and allowed his hair and beard to go un- 
 trimmed ; how he dashed his head in frenzy against 
 the walls, and was constantly heard to cry out in 
 anguish : '* Quintilius Varus, give me back my 
 legions." Whether these details be simple truth or 
 decorated fable, we can well believe what a shock 
 such a disaster must have been to one of Augustus's 
 years, and to an Emperor who had been accustomed 
 only to tidings of victory. So grave was the posi- 
 tion that he not only posted guards throughout the 
 city to repress any possible tumult, but sent de- 
 spatches to the provincial governors bidding them 
 be specially watchful of rebellion. When military 
 empires lose their military prestige, insurrection is 
 the natural result. His first care was to obtain new 
 recruits for his army, but the people hung back and 
 would not enlist. According to Dion Cassius, he 
 branded with infamy and confiscated the goods of 
 one man in every five under thirty-five years of age 
 who refused to serve, and of one man in ten of all 
 above that age. But even these rigorous measures 
 were unavailing to procure the necessary recruits, 
 and he was driven to put many to death before 
 reinforcements could be raised and sent north to 
 Tiberius. The Emperor banished all Gauls and 
 Germans from the capital, and dismissed the Ger- 
 man mercenaries serving in the Praetorian Guard, so 
 apprehensive was he that there was treason afoot. 
 Nor was his confidence restored until he was assured 
 of the unwavering loyalty of Maroboduus and re- 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 315 
 
 ceived the gratifying intelligence that the victorious 
 enemy had turned back. 
 
 Throughout the closing years of his reign no de- 
 cisive actions were fought. During the year 10 
 Tiberius held the supreme command ; in the ensu- 
 ing year he shared it with Germanicus ; in the year 
 12 he was again sole commander, while at the begin- 
 ning of 13 he returned to Rome and left Germanicus 
 behind him as commander-in-chief. Their expedi- 
 tions were intended not so much to reconquer Ger- 
 many as to make an imposing demonstration of 
 military strength. And, in the meantime, Augustus 
 had arrived at the momentous decision to abandon 
 the Elbe frontier and fall back upon the Rhine. It 
 is not too much to say that this was one of the most 
 important steps which he took throughout his whole 
 reign and one which had the most far-reaching con- 
 sequences. No one can estimate how profoundly he 
 thereby modified the course of future events, or to 
 what extent the history of modern Europe would 
 have been changed if he had not definitely aband- 
 oned his old policy of Romanising Germany as he 
 had Romanised Gaul and Spain. The development 
 of Teutonic civilisation would, in all human prob- 
 ability, have proceeded along wholly different lines 
 and there would not have been that sharp antagon- 
 ism between the Latin and the Teuton temperament 
 which has been and still is one of the most dominat- 
 ing factors in European politics. It remains to ask 
 why Augustus took this retrograde step and to 
 judge whether his poHcy was prudent or the reverse. 
 His motives at least were clear enough. Augustus 
 
3i6 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 was an old man and his chief anxiety was that he 
 might end his days in peace. He had acutely felt 
 the long strain of the Pannonian and Dalmatian 
 wars, and he regarded with even graver apprehen- 
 sion the prospect of equally arduous and hazardous 
 campaigns in Germany. It was abundantly clear 
 that the reconquest of Germany must involve sooner 
 or later a great war with the Marcomanni, with the 
 moral certainty that in Bohemia too there would be 
 a long period of revolt and insurrection, as well as 
 trouble with the tribes living beyond the Elbe. The 
 retention of the Elbe frontier meant, in other words, 
 a continued war policy, and a continued series of 
 annexations, for barbarism and the Roman civilisa- 
 tion could not lie peacefully side by side. Such a 
 policy, to be successful, would inevitably entail an 
 enormous increase in the military forces of the Em- 
 pire and Augustus had just seen how strong was the 
 disinclination of the people of Italy to enter the 
 legions even in a moment of desperate emergency. 
 The fact that not only freedmen but slaves were 
 drafted by hundreds into the legions raised in the 
 recent crises spoke eloquently of the decay of the 
 ancient martial spirit. We cannot wonder, there- 
 fore, that he hesitated and drew back, impelled 
 thereto alike by his personal incHnations, by his in- 
 creasing infirmities, by the loss of popularity which, 
 with rare exceptions, seems to be one of the penal- 
 ties of length of reign, as well as by his certain con- 
 viction that the legions were barely adequate to 
 hold even the territory which was already securely 
 Roman. The *' far-flung battle line " of Rome was 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 3 1 7 
 
 dangerously thin ; who should know the peril of its 
 further extension better than Augustus? The tend- 
 ency of the latest school of historians is to condemn 
 the step which the Emperor took. They point out 
 with perfect truth that a boundary formed by the 
 Elbe and the Danube is far shorter than a boundary 
 formed by the Rhine and the Danube. From the 
 strategic point of view there can be no comparison 
 between them. All the advantages lie with the Elbe 
 over the Rhine. The essential weakness of the 
 Rhine and Danube frontier was that the legions 
 stationed on the two rivers could not co-operate or 
 lend one another assistance, for a great wedge of 
 barbarism was thrust in between them, which proved 
 an impassable barrier. But statesmanship has to 
 deal. with the actual rather than with the ideal, and 
 has usually to be content with the second best. 
 Augustus drew back. 
 
 One would give much to know the contents of the 
 despatches which passed between him and Tiberius. 
 No doubt he left Tiberius considerable freedom of 
 action, but the general tenor of his instructions 
 was clearly " Back ! " Probably enough, Augustus 
 never made any explicit or public announcement of 
 his determination. Public opinion was opposed to 
 retirement, and there were doubtless critics in plenty 
 who denounced Augustus in secret for his policy of 
 "scuttle." The subsequent campaigns of German- 
 icus in the early years of Tiberius's reign shew how 
 keen the legions were to be led against the con- 
 querors of Varus, and the recall of Germanicus after 
 a series of brilliant victories gave rise to the most 
 
3i8 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 malignant rumours. The abandonment of Germany 
 was felt to be a confession of weakness, to be a re- 
 tractation of the proud boast of Rome that wherever 
 her standards had once been planted they made the 
 soil around them Roman. It was a foretaste of 
 humiliation, an acknowledgment of defeat, which 
 could not be concealed by the formation of the two 
 so-called Germanic provinces on the Rhine, carved 
 not out of the territory of the German but of the 
 Gaul. Yet Augustus was right to draw back, if he 
 considered his military strength inadequate to the 
 task of holding down all Germany. At the moment 
 it certainly was inadequate, and the miserable ex- 
 hibition of craven cowardice which had just been 
 made by the Roman people fully justified him in 
 the step which he took. But was he equally justi- 
 fied in solemnly warning his successors to be content 
 with the boundaries as he left them? We think 
 not. He should rather have urged upon them the 
 imperative need of increasing and reorganising the 
 Roman army, so that it might carry the eagles once 
 more to the Elbe and guard that frontier as the 
 Rhine was already guarded. He himself might be 
 too old to re-create Roman military ardour ; but he 
 should have set this duty before those who were to 
 come after him. As it was, the injunction which he 
 laid upon Tiberius in his will, the injunction that 
 the Empire should be confined to its present limits, 
 became the keystone of Roman policy with respect 
 to Germany, and Tiberius allowed Germanicus to 
 wage campaign after campaign iii Germany, as though 
 his policy were reconquest, and then withdrew him 
 
The Danube and the Rhine 319 
 
 at the very moment when the prizes of victory 
 seemed to be falling into his hands. Thus the Rhine 
 continued to be the Roman frontier as long as the 
 Empire lasted. New provinces were formed in later 
 years in Britain, Dacia, and Mesopotamia, but Ger- 
 many was left to the barbarian. 
 
 Augustus sought, as we have said, to conceal his 
 complete change of policy by permitting Tiberius 
 and Germanicus to make military demonstrations on 
 the right bank of the Rhine. He also raised the 
 number of the Rhenish legions from five to eight, 
 and settled the formation of the two provinces of 
 Upper and Lower Germany. The former, with its 
 headquarters at Mogontiacum (Mayence), stretched 
 from above Coblenz to below Argentoratum (Strass- 
 burg) and included not only the right bank of the 
 Rhine but also the valleys of the Main and the 
 Neckar. Lower Germany stretched from below 
 Bonn to the North Sea, keeping to the left bank of 
 the Rhine until Noviomagus (Nimeguen) was reached 
 and then striking across to the Zuyder Zee, and in- 
 cluding the whole of the Netherlands. Vetera, where 
 the river Lippe flows into the Rhine, was the capital 
 of this province, and a chain of fifty forts secured the 
 principal points of passage along the river bank up 
 to its source. On the left bank dwelt the tribes 
 which had been transplanted from the right by suc- 
 cessive generals, and these were retained by Au- 
 gustus and his successors as a rampart against their 
 kinsmen for the protection of Gaul. But the dream 
 of a great German province faded for ever from the 
 view of Rome. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE IMPERIAL FAMILY 
 
 THE fortunes of the Imperial family during the 
 last twenty years of Augustus's life are of 
 absorbing interest. The death of Marcus 
 Agrippa in B.C. 12 had again left the question of 
 the succession open. Augustus, indeed, had formally 
 adopted Agrippa's two eldest sons, Caius and Lucius 
 Caesar, but Caius was a mere child of eight, and the 
 care of the Roman Empire could not devolve upon 
 a boy. Agrippa had also left two daughters, Julia 
 and Agrippina, and a third son, subsequently known 
 as Agrippa Postumus, was born a few months later. 
 Augustus had thus five grandchildren in the direct 
 line, but he needed an heir who might, in case of 
 his sudden demise, succeed at once. The death of 
 Agrippa, therefore, enhanced the already brilliant 
 prospects of the two sons of Livia, Tiberius and 
 Drusus. The elder, Tiberius, had been quaestor and 
 praetor, and had accompanied the Emperor into 
 Gaul. He was married to Vipsania, the daughter of 
 Agrippa by his first wife, Pomponia, and to her he 
 was devotedly attached. Augustus now commanded 
 
 320 
 
The Lnperial Family 321 
 
 him to divorce her and marry the widowed Julia, 
 who was thus for the third time forced into a matri- 
 monial alliance for reasons of state. Tiberius un- 
 willingly complied — "" with great anguish of mind," 
 says Suetonius, because he loved Vipsania, and 
 disapproved of the character of Julia; and for the 
 next few years he and his brother Drusus stood 
 next the throne. They had already displayed their 
 military capacity by adding Rhsetia, VindeHcia, and 
 Noricum to the Empire, and Drusus in Germany 
 and Tiberius in Pannonia continued to win new 
 laurels for themselves and for Augustus. Drusus 
 was perhaps the more popular of the two, for even 
 in his early manhood there was noted in Tiberius 
 that quality of moroseness which grew upon him in 
 later life. Yet in capacity they were both adequate 
 to any command which might be entrusted to them, 
 and the loss of Marcus Agrippa, the most capable 
 man of his time, was scarcely felt, thanks to the 
 genius displayed by the two Crown Princes. But in 
 B. C. 9 Drusus succumbed to the effects of a fall 
 from his horse in Germany at the age of thirty, 
 leaving behind him, as a child of but twelve months, 
 the young Germanicus. His brother Tiberius hur- 
 ried up to Germany to take over the vacant com- 
 mand, enjoyed in B. C. 7 the honour of a triumph, 
 and in the following year received the Tribunicia 
 Potestas for five years. 
 
 This, as we have seen in the case of Agrippa, was 
 the highest distinction which Augustus could be- 
 stow, yet no sooner was it granted than Tiberius 
 withdrew from public life. He had, indeed, good 
 
32 2 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 reason to be dissatisfied with a position which must 
 have been intensely galling to one who inherited a 
 full measure of the Claudian pride. He detested 
 the wife who had been thrust upon him. Suetonius 
 narrates how, some time after his marriage with 
 Julia, he happened to encounter Vipsania and gazed 
 after her with tears in his eyes, and how Augustus 
 took precautions that they might never meet again. 
 Naturally, therefore, Tiberius's relations with Julia 
 were none of the happiest, and, after she had borne 
 him a child who died in infancy, they ceased to live 
 together. From this time forward Julia cast dis- 
 cretion to the winds, and the irregularities of her 
 conduct were the common talk and scandal of Rome. 
 They were known to everyone except her father, to 
 whom she was still the apple of his eye. Augustus 
 was intensely proud of her beauty and of her win- 
 ning, fascinating ways. He had bestowed unusual 
 pains over her education ; and Julia possessed, in 
 addition to remarkable natural wit, all the accom- 
 plishments of the day. She had been brought up 
 on the stern ancient model, under the care of the 
 Empress Livia, and it was well known in Rome how 
 the consort and the daughter of Augustus wove in 
 their own apartments the woollen garments worn 
 by the Emperor. Augustus had hoped that Julia 
 would develop into a Roman matron distinguished 
 for her gravity and reserve, and emulating in do- 
 mestic virtues the patterns of Roman perfection. 
 Save for dynastic reasons, nothing would have 
 pleased him better than for Julia to have become a 
 Vestal Virgin, dedicating her hfe to the religious 
 
CAMEO OF JULIA AS DIANA. 
 FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 
 
The Imperial Family 323 
 
 service of the State. But this accompHshed and 
 high-spirited girl chafed at the restrictions imposed 
 upon her. Many anecdotes are recorded which shew 
 how entirely her views were opposed to those of her 
 father. '' My father forgets that he is Caesar," she 
 replied to one who reminded her that Augustus's 
 ideal was simplicity ; " I cannot but remember that 
 I am Caesar's daughter." On another occasion, when 
 she presented herself in the Emperor's presence in a 
 rich and elaborate costume, he said nothing, but the 
 look on his face shewed his displeasure. The fol- 
 lowing day she appeared in a sober and simple dress, 
 and he at once exclaimed that now she was attired 
 as befitted Caesar's daughter. "To-day," was her 
 answer, " I am dressed to please my father ; yester- 
 day I dressed to please my husband." At another 
 time he sternly rebuked a young Roman noble, 
 named Lucius Vicinius, for calling upon his daugh- 
 ter at Baiae, and chided Julia for appearing in the 
 theatre in the company of some of the young 
 fashionables of Roman society. ''They will grow 
 old with me," was her pert reply. But though her 
 conduct vexed him sometimes and led him to exclaim 
 that he had two troublesome daughters, " Julia and 
 the Republic," he still had a profound belief in her 
 purity and innocence, and was heard to boast that 
 she was a second Claudia, the equal in virtue of the 
 famous Roman matron whose chastity had availed 
 to draw off the vessel conveying the image of Cybele 
 from the shallows of the Tiber upon which it had 
 grounded. Augustus was cruelly deceived. Julia 
 was indeed a second Claudia, but her prototype was 
 
324 Augustus C(^sar 
 
 not Claudia the virtuous but the Clodia of Catullus, 
 the notorious Medea of the Palatine, whose amours 
 and excesses were still vividly remembered. 
 
 It is impossible not to feel some sympathy with a 
 high-spirited girl who had been brought up in such 
 uncongenial surroundings, in the society of a step- 
 mother who saw in her the chief obstacle to her am- 
 bitious hopes for her own son, and of a father who 
 did not carry into practice the stern morality which 
 he inculcated into his women folk. Augustus's love 
 for Julia was sincere and profound, but he had not 
 hesitated to marry her not once but thrice for reasons 
 of state. Her union with the young and handsome 
 Marcellus may not have been uncongenial, but Mar- 
 cus Agrippa was of the same age as her father, and 
 too deeply immersed in his public duties to care 
 much for pleasure. There was no open scandal be- 
 fore Agrippa's death, but when, on his demise, she 
 found herself thrust upon the reluctant Tiberius, 
 there is little wonder that she turned to the gay 
 world for amusement and frivolity. The position 
 was an almost intolerable one both for husband and 
 wife, and Julia flung herself headlong into *'the 
 whirlpool's shrieking face." She counted her lovers 
 by the score. Their names have come down to us 
 and we find among them a Gracchus, a Scipio, an 
 Appius Claudius, even an Antonius. Tiberius dared 
 not lay the truth before Augustus ; he did not ven- 
 ture to disclose to the father the adulteries of the 
 daughter, and thus the associate of Augustus in the 
 Tribunician Power and the second man in the Em- 
 pire had to suffer in silence the stain which his wife 
 
The Imperial Family 325 
 
 inflicted upon his honour. Here, no doubt, we may 
 find at least one of the motives which determined 
 Tiberius to retire from Rome. 
 
 Yet this was not his only reason. The two eldest 
 sons of his wife, Caius and Lucius Caesar, were grow- 
 ing up to manhood and Augustus lavished upon 
 them the affection of a grandfather. They were 
 always in his company. At his meals he liked to 
 have them lying at the foot of his couch ; whenever 
 he drove out he took them with him in his carriage 
 or had them riding on horseback by his side. He 
 taught them himself and took pains that they 
 should model their handwriting upon his own. He 
 bestowed upon them the title of " Princes of the 
 Youth " and looked eagerly forward to introducing 
 them into public life. This eagerness was so mani- 
 fest that the Senate passed special decrees to enable 
 them to hold office at an exceptionally early age, 
 and Caius, while still in his teens, was already ad- 
 mitted to the priesthood and the senatorial benches 
 at public banquets and the shows. Tiberius, the 
 general and administrator, the capable man of ac- 
 tion and statesman, might possess the esteem and 
 the respect of Augustus ; but the Emperor's affec- 
 tions were centred in the two young Princes, and 
 Tiberius probably saw that, in the course of the 
 next few years, he would be shelved to make way 
 for the youthful favourites. He knew that he had 
 been forced to marry their mother that he might act 
 as guardian of her sons, and Julia not only disdained 
 him as unequal in rank to herself — though a Claudius 
 acknowledged no superior in point of rank and birth 
 
326 Augtistus Ccesar 
 
 — but made his dishonour and her own the by- 
 word of the capital. Tiberius, therefore, in B.C. 6, 
 decHned the commission given him by Augustus to 
 settle the affairs of Armenia and announced his 
 intention of retiring to Rhodes. He urged as his 
 excuse that his ambition had been satisfied and that 
 his one desire was for rest and retirement. Livia im- 
 plored him not to go ; Augustus bitterly complained 
 in the Senate that he was being deserted by his 
 family. Tiberius was obdurate and abstained from 
 food for four days until the requisite permission was 
 granted. Then he hurriedly quitted Rome and be- 
 took himself to Rhodes, where he remained in exile 
 for eight years, living in a modest house as a private 
 citizen and on terms of equality with his Greek 
 acquaintances. 
 
 The withdrawal of Tiberius left the field open to 
 the two young Princes. In B.C. 5 Augustus accepted 
 the consulship in order to introduce Caius Caesar 
 to public life and accepted it again in B.C. 2 for the 
 introduction of Lucius. But in the latter year the 
 storm which had been gathering over the head of 
 Julia broke in full fury. Augustus at last heard the 
 truth which had probably been known for years to 
 everyone but himself. Grown reckless from long 
 impunity, Julia had openly flaunted her folly in the 
 Forum, and paraded her vices in the public streets. 
 The daughter of the Emperor, now in her thirty- 
 eighth year, was not content with being the leader 
 of the gay and dissolute fashionable society, of 
 which Ovid was the mouthpiece and instructor in 
 vice, but she had fallen, if her accusers may be 
 
The Imperial Family 327 
 
 believed, to the level of the common women of the 
 town. Augustus, in his fierce anger, spared neither 
 himself nor the guilty ones. He made no effort at 
 concealment. He called the Senate and the whole 
 world to witness how a Roman father could punish 
 the crimes of a dearly loved child. Julia was 
 banished to the barren island of Pandateria, where 
 no one was allowed to approach her without per- 
 mission. He forbade her the use of wine and all 
 the delicacies and comforts of life. Most of her 
 paramours suffered a like sentence of banishment ; 
 one alone was put to death. This was Julius 
 Antonius, a son of the Triumvir, who had been 
 spared and brought up by Augustus in the Palace 
 and had been mad enough to intrigue with the 
 daughter of the man who had slain his father. 
 Augustus felt the disgrace deeply. When he was 
 told that one of Julia's freedwomen named Phoebe, 
 who had been privy to her mistress's amours, had 
 hanged herself, the bitter cry escaped him, " I would 
 that I had been Phcebe's father rather than Julia's." 
 It was not only the honour of the Imperial House 
 which suffered but the credit of the Imperial policy. 
 He had been struggling for years against the corrup- 
 tion of the age ; the disgrace of his own daughter 
 now advertised the impotence of his efforts. Horace 
 had congratulated the Emperor on his success in 
 restoring domestic purity, 
 
 Nullis polluitur casta domus stupris, 
 Mos at lex maculosum edomuit nefas ; 
 
 here was the damning commentary. Augustus had 
 
328 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 to admit defeat, and his daughter had struck the 
 blow. It is this which explains the severity with 
 which he treated the guilty Julia. He was not a 
 moral man himself ; but he had preached morality to 
 others. Had he acted up to his own professions, he 
 might have taught better and learnt how to forgive. 
 Rome sympathised with the daughter, not with the 
 father. The people constantly petitioned him to 
 relent and revoke the decree of banishment, but he 
 was obdurate and, solemnly and in public, cursed all 
 such wives and daughters. The only concession he 
 made was to allow Julia a change of prison from an 
 island to the mainland, and to grant her an increase 
 of personal comforts. But to the day of his death 
 he never saw her again, and whenever her name or 
 that of her daughter, Julia, who followed in her 
 mother's footsteps, was mentioned, he would quote 
 the line from Homer: "Ah! would that I had never 
 entered wedlock and had died a childless man ! " 
 
 The disgrace of Julia made no immediate change 
 in the position of Tiberius. Augustus, indeed, had 
 upon his own authority sent her, in the name of his 
 step-son, a formal notice of repudiation, and the ill- 
 starred marriage was thus dissolved. Tiberius re- 
 joiced at his release, but thought it politic to write 
 frequent letters to Augustus, begging him to deal 
 leniently with the culprit. And he now began to be 
 anxious about his own situation, and to regret the 
 hasty step which he had taken in retiring to Rhodes. 
 But he found Augustus in no yielding mood. He 
 was curtly informed, when he wrote asking to be 
 allowed to return to Rome to see his family, that as 
 
The Imperial Family 329 
 
 he had been so eager to abandon them he might 
 dismiss from his mind all anxiety on their account. 
 The Emperor had been deeply angered at Tiberius's 
 desertion of him, and the utmost concession which 
 Livia could obtain from her husband was his consent 
 to announce that Tiberius was acting as his legate in 
 Rhodes. This, however, can scarcely have concealed 
 from the prying eyes of Roman society the fact that 
 Tiberius was in deep disgrace, and the world now 
 looked to Caius and Lucius as the Emperor's heirs. 
 
 The elder of the two was sent at the head of an 
 important mission to the East, under the tutelage of 
 Lollius, and the public were given to understand 
 that vast campaigns were in preparation, which 
 should rival the conquests of Alexander. Caius was 
 then twenty years of age, and, when he reached Samos, 
 Tiberius crossed over from Rhodes and paid a visit to 
 his young kinsman. We do not know what took 
 place at the interview, but it is evident that Tiberius 
 endeavoured to persuade Augustus that he had with- 
 drawn to Rhodes in order that he might not stand 
 in the way of Caius's advancement, and that he 
 sought vainly to conciliate the favour of the youth 
 who seemed certain of the succession. A story was 
 current that Augustus had promised Caius that he 
 would not allow Tiberius to return to Rome except 
 with his consent, and Lollius, who was Caius's guar- 
 dian and tutor, was a bitter enemy of Tiberius. 
 Tiberius, therefore, not only failed to win Caius's 
 good-will, but his prestige fell so low that one of 
 Caius's associates, heated with wine at his table, 
 jumped up and swore that he would go to Rhodes 
 
330 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 and bring back " the exile's head," if only Caius gave 
 the word. Clearly throughout this period Tiberius 
 was regarded in the East as a man whose death 
 would not be unwelcome in the highest quarters, and 
 for two years he went in fear of his life. But sud- 
 denly there came a change in his fortunes, which 
 was attributed to the ceaseless intercession of his 
 mother Livia on his behalf, and to the disgrace of 
 Lollius. The latter was discovered to have been in 
 treasonable communication with the Parthians, and 
 the young Caius had grown tired of the ascendency 
 which his guardian and adviser had exercised over 
 him. His hatred of Lollius led him to become 
 reconciled with Tiberius, and Caius seems to have 
 urged the Emperor to permit his step-father's return 
 to Rome. Consequently, in 2 A. D., the exile of 
 Rhodes was granted permission to return to the 
 capital, on condition that he remained a private citi- 
 zen and took no part in public life. 
 
 Tiberius was now in his forty-fifth, and Augustus 
 in his sixty-fifth year, and the prospects of the for- 
 mer succeeding to the Empire seemed remote indeed, 
 inasmuch as Caius and Lucius Caesar were grown to 
 manhood. Yet within eighteen months of Tiberius's 
 return both were dead. Lucius Caesar, the consul- 
 elect, who had been sent on a mission to Spain, was 
 seized with illness at Massilia, and died there. In 
 the following year Caius was treacherously wounded 
 in Armenia. The wound was not in itself a fatal 
 one, but the young Prince, whose constitution was 
 not of the strongest, made slow recovery, and ruined 
 his chance of restoration to health by omitting the 
 
The Imperial Family 33 1 
 
 proper medical precautions and indulging in excess. 
 He withdrew to Syria, and was on his way home 
 when he succumbed in the city of Limyra. This 
 double bereavement weighed heavily upon the now 
 aging Emperor. There is a charming letter ad- 
 dressed by him to Caius on the occasion of his own 
 sixty-sixth birthday, in which he assures him how 
 keenly he feels his absence. ** Oculi mei reqiiirunt 
 meiim Caiiimr " My eyes sadly miss the presence of 
 my dear Caius, especially on fete-days, like to-day, 
 but, wherever you are, I hope that you are well and 
 happy and have celebrated my birthday." Augustus 
 had made no secret of his intentions towards Caius, 
 who was to have been his heir and successor. Now 
 both he and his brother were dead, and public gos- 
 sip in Rome did not hesitate to hint at poison, and 
 connect Livia and Tiberius with deaths so sudden 
 and so opportune to their interests. There was, of 
 course, not a jot of evidence to warrant the suspi- 
 cion, and it may be dismissed without comment. 
 The poisoner had not yet come to court. 
 
 Thus, by a series of extraordinary fatalities, in 
 which a superstitious world saw the manifest hand 
 of Destiny, the Imperial family had been sadly 
 thinned in numbers. It was certainly remarkable 
 that the valetudinarian Emperor should have sur- 
 vived so many of the younger scions of his House. 
 Marcellus, Drusus, Caius, and Lucius Caesar, all four 
 had been cut off in early manhood, while Agrippa 
 had died in the full vigour of middle age. The 
 dearest hopes of the Emperor had been blasted by 
 these unlooked-for calamities, and the disgrace of 
 
Augustus Ccesar 
 
 Julia still embittered his life. He had, indeed, still 
 descendants in the direct line. Agrippa Postumus 
 was now a boy of fifteen. Julia, his eldest grand- 
 daughter, was married to Lucius .^milius Paulus, 
 and her sister Agrippina to Germanicus, the son of 
 Drusus. But though these unions gave promise of 
 a new generation, Augustus was well advanced in 
 years and needed a prop upon which he might lean. 
 It was natural, therefore, that he should turn again 
 to Tiberius and restore him to favour. No sooner 
 did the Emperor receive the melancholy intelligence 
 of the death of Caius, than he adopted his step-son 
 Tiberius and bestowed upon him the Tribunicia Po- 
 testas for a second time, together with the com- 
 mand of the Rhine legions for the prosecution of 
 the war in Germany. But, faithful as ever in his de- 
 votion towards his lineal descendants, he adopted at 
 the same time his sole surviving grandson, Agrippa 
 Postumus, and insisted that Tiberius should adopt 
 his nephew Germanicus, the son of his dead brother 
 Drusus, and the husband of Agrippina. By so doing 
 the Emperor hoped to unite the Imperial family 
 and remove all causes of jealousy. The remainder 
 of his reign was passed in almost unbroken warfare. 
 During the next five years, from A. D. 4 to A.D. 9, 
 Tiberius scarcely set foot in the capital. He was 
 continuously with the legions, first in Germany, 
 then in Pannonia, and afterwards back again on the 
 Rhine, and only saw Augustus as he visited Rome 
 to pass from one command to the other and receive 
 his chief's instructions. The 3-ears were dark and 
 gloomy, for the Pax Rom.ana had been broken and 
 
2 » 
 < 5 
 
The Imperial Fain ily 333 
 
 Rome was fighting on the Rhine and the Danube 
 not so much for glory as for existence. It was 
 fortunate for Augustus that in this time of trial he 
 had so experienced and capable a general as Ti- 
 berius on whom to rely, and that the genius of the 
 Claudian House manifested itself once more in the 
 young Germanicus, the worthy son of a worthy 
 father. 
 
 But the domestic troubles of Augustus had not 
 yet come to an end. In A.D. 7, three years after his 
 adoption, Postumus was banished to the island of 
 Planasia and kept under strict military guard. His 
 offence is unknown, and his unhappy fate forms one 
 of the dark mysteries of the House of Caesar. All 
 the authorities agree that in character he was in- 
 tractable and wild. Suetonius described him as 
 brutish and fierce, '"'' sordidiim ac ferox ingenium!' 
 Velleius speaks of his extraordinary depravity of 
 mind and his recklessness, *' Mir a pravitate animi 
 at que ingenii in prcecipitia conversus. ' ' Tacitus, whose 
 detestation of Tiberius would naturally bias him in 
 favour of one of Tiberius's victims, declares that he 
 was utterly devoid of worthy qualities and possessed 
 only the brute courage of physical strength, ''Rudein 
 sane bonarum artiiim et rob ore corporis stolide fero- 
 cem!' We may suppose, therefore, that the young 
 Prince, whose personal appearance was ungainly and 
 repellent, was a savage in manners, moody and 
 vicious, and a stolid rebel against authority. His 
 tastes were low ; his mind depraved and gross, and 
 he lacked the dignity which was part of the Roman 
 noble's birthright. Probably in his childhood he 
 
334 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 had been neglected and allowed to run wild. His 
 chances of the succession seemed hardly worth con- 
 sideration, and it is to be remembered that he was 
 brought up in the household of Julia at a time when 
 his mother was scandalising the capital. The ac- 
 count which Dion Cassius gives of how this luckless 
 Prince idled away his time at Baiae, fishing-rod in 
 hand, and claimed the attributes of Neptune and 
 the command of the sea on the strength of the 
 good fortune which attended his angling, suggests a 
 dull wit and sluggish intellect, and it may well be 
 that Agrippa Postumus inherited that taint of mad- 
 ness which was to shew itself in diverse yet unmis- 
 takable forms in the younger descendants of the 
 Caesars. Augustus, apparently, attributed these de- 
 fects of mind and character to wilful perversity 
 rather than to natural shortcomings. He soon grew 
 impatient with his adopted son and impatience 
 changed to detestation. Postumus had no friends 
 at court, but he had many bitter enemies, and 
 none more persevering and irreconcilable than the 
 astute Livia, whose ascendancy over her husband 
 grew stronger with his increasing infirmities, and 
 whose ambitions were centred in one object alone, 
 the advancement of her son Tiberius. Postumus 
 returned her hate in equal measure ; accused her to 
 his associates of all manner of crimes, and, in his 
 passion, did not spare the Emperor himself. The 
 only living grandson of Augustus, he was jealous 
 that his step-father Tiberius should rob him of the 
 whole or part of his inheritance, and the mad boy 
 vowed vengeance. His unguarded language was 
 
The Imperial Family 
 
 carried to the Emperor's ears, and Augustus deter- 
 mined to cast him off. He denounced Postumus in 
 the Senate, where he complained bitterly of the 
 lad's character and vices, and the Senators formally 
 sanctioned the sentence of exile which had been 
 passed upon him. 
 
 Agrippa Postumus, therefore, was deported to the 
 island of Planasia and kept under strict watch. He 
 found some sympathisers, for mention is made by 
 Seutonius of an obscure conspiracy formed with the 
 avowed object of rescuing him and his mother from 
 their captivity. But the plotters were men of no 
 account, a convicted embezzler named Lucius Auda- 
 sius, and a Parthian half-breed, Asinius Epicadus. 
 Such a crazy scheme had no chance of success and 
 scarcely merits the name of conspiracy. Much more 
 interesting is the story mentioned by Tacitus that 
 Augustus, shortly before his death, repented of the 
 harshness with which he had treated his grandson 
 and paid him a secret visit in his prison. It was re- 
 ported that he was accompanied only by Fabius 
 Maximus and a few trusted servants, and that many 
 tears were shed on both sides at the interview. It 
 was said, too, that Maximus revealed the visit to his 
 wife Marcia, who communicated it to the Empress 
 Livia, and that soon afterwards Maximus committed 
 suicide and Marcia blamed herself as the cause of 
 his death. Probably the story was the merest gos- 
 sip, but it is quite conceivable that the aged Em- 
 peror, softening under the shadow of approaching 
 death, repented him of the harshness with which he 
 had treated a dull-witted lad, who probably had been 
 
^^6 Atigustus CcBsar 
 
 more sinned against than sinning. The eager haste 
 with which Livia and Tiberius hurried Agrippa 
 Postumus out of the world, as soon as Augustus had 
 breathed his last, shews their anxiety to rid them- 
 selves of one who had been their victim and might 
 even now become a dangerous rival. 
 
 Agrippa Postumus had been banished in A.D. 7. 
 Two years later his sister Julia suffered the same 
 fate. She had been married to Lucius ^miHus Pau- 
 lus, one of the leading members of the Roman 
 aristocracy, and bore him a son and a daughter. But, 
 undeterred by the punishment which had overtaken 
 her mother, she had followed the elder Julia's evil 
 example, and the irregularities of her conduct were 
 as notorious as those of her parent. Her lovers 
 were many, but chief among them was Decimus 
 Silanus, and the guilty pair were charged not only 
 with adultery but with treason. We do not know 
 what form the treason took, but in some way or 
 other the crime of Julia and Silanus appears to be 
 closely connected with the banishment of Ovid, 
 which took place at the same time. The nominal 
 reason assigned for the sentence passed upon the 
 poet was that the verses which he had written on 
 " The Art of Love " were an offence against public 
 morahty. Such a judgment would be endorsed by 
 any censor of public morals, but this notorious poem 
 had been published some years before — in the year, 
 indeed, which had witnessed the banishment of the 
 elder Julia — and the elegiacs of repentance, which 
 Ovid penned in his exile, clearly indicate that this 
 was not his principal offence. Many theories have 
 
The Imperial Fam ily 337 
 
 been started in explanation of the obscure lines in 
 which he refers to the reason which brought down 
 upon him the wrath of the Emperor, but the most 
 plausible seems to be that which attributes to him a 
 guilty knowledge of the intrigue between Julia the 
 younger and Silanus, with both of whom he was 
 probably on terms of intimate friendship. Ovid 
 was the poet laureate, not of the court — for Au- 
 gustus spurned all his overtures — but of the fashion- 
 able and depraved society of Rome, which, in the 
 scathing words of Tacitus, existed only to corrupt 
 and to be corrupted : ** Corrumpere et corrumpi scecu- 
 lum vocanty And thus when Augustus discovered 
 that Ovid had been privy to an intrigue which 
 brought new scandal and disgrace upon the Imperial 
 House he banished to the farthest corner of the 
 Euxine the poet to whose libidinous verses he 
 attributed much of the existing depravity. Julia 
 was exiled from Rome ; the fate of Silanus is not 
 known. Thus of the five children of Julia and 
 Marcus Agrippa, the two eldest sons were dead, the 
 youngest son and the elder daughter were in deep 
 disgrace, and only the second daughter, Agrippina, — 
 the wife of Germanicus, who was winning golden 
 opinions as a general, — was any comfort to the 
 Emperor in his declining years. 
 
 Augustus had now passed his seventieth year, and 
 one cannot but pity the central figure in the desol- 
 ate mansion on the Palatine, who had suffered so 
 many bitter disappointments in the intimacy of his 
 domestic life. His hopes rested upon Tiberius and 
 Germanicus. The one was a man of middle age; 
 
338 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 the younger was the popular idol of Rome. If 
 Augustus had been spared to greater length of years, 
 it is conceivable that Tiberius might have been sup- 
 planted by the son of his dead brother Drusus, whom 
 he had been obliged to adopt as his own son. For 
 it is tolerably clear that there never was any real 
 warmth of feeling between Augustus and Tiberius. 
 Tiberius possessed many sterling and indeed ines- 
 timable qualities, but from his earliest days he seems 
 to have been reserved and morose, and Augustus 
 liked to be surrounded by young people who were 
 frank and joyous. Full allowance must be made 
 for the extraordinary embarrassments of Tiberius's 
 position. The step-son saw himself successively 
 passed over in favour of the nephew, the minister, 
 and then of the young grandsons. Only when the 
 hand of death had removed the two first husbands 
 of the Emperor's daughter was he thought worthy 
 of becoming the son-in-law of Augustus, and then 
 he was forced to separate from a wife he loved to 
 take to his house a woman whose character was a 
 byword in the city. If, as seems probable, the Em- 
 press Livia, his mother, had brought him up from 
 his earliest years to hope for the succession, Tiberius 
 might well be embittered that so many new obstacles 
 from time to time arose in his path, and that his 
 great services to the Empire seemed doomed to 
 undergo periods of eclipse. His character is one of 
 the standing puzzles of history, alike in his earlier 
 and later years. But the account of Suetonius seems 
 to be most consonant with the facts as we know 
 them. The prevailing tradition in Rome was that 
 
The Imperial Family 339 
 
 Augustus was repelled by the moroseness of his 
 step-son, and by the gloomy hauteur and reserve 
 which were typical of the Claudian House. It was 
 said that when Tiberius entered a room all lively 
 conversation was at once checked ; his frowning 
 brows made others feel ill at ease. On one occasion, 
 when Tiberius quitted the Emperor's chamber, the 
 doorkeepers declared that they heard Augustus ex- 
 claim, " I pity the Roman people when they come 
 between those slow-moving jaws " {Miser um popu- 
 luM Romanum qui sub tarn lentis maxillis erif). And 
 yet Suetonius pertinently remarks, " I cannot bring 
 myself to believe that in a matter of such moment- 
 ous importance as the settlement of the succession, 
 such a master of circumspection and prudence as 
 Augustus would have acted rashly," and he states 
 his conviction that the Emperor carefully weighed 
 the virtues and vices of his step-son in the balance 
 and found that the good qualities weighed down the 
 bad. Augustus was right. He adopted Tiberius as 
 his son, not because he was attached to him or in 
 order to please Livia, but for reasons of state, be- 
 cause Tiberius, after the death of Marcus Agrippa, 
 was the strongest man in the Empire, and its most 
 experienced and capable general. Augustus was 
 cautious, so was Tiberius. He was not likely to 
 embark upon any mad or dangerous enterprise. He 
 had gained sufficient military glory; he had won 
 laurels enough ; he would not emperil the Empire 
 to win more. Augustus could not fail to respect 
 the man who had stamped out the Pannonian insur- 
 rection and made the Rhine bank secure after the 
 
340 
 
 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 disaster to Varus. He might not possess the bril- 
 liant qualities or the dash of his brother Drusus, which 
 Drusus had transmitted to his son Germanicus, but 
 he was safe, and Augustus, after the death of his 
 favourite nephew and grandsons, wanted a safe man 
 to succeed him. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE MAN AND THE STATESMAN 
 
 LET US pass to the closing scene. Early in the 
 year 14 A. D., Augustus felt that his end 
 was drawing nigh, and ordered that a census 
 of the Roman people should be taken, but hearing 
 of an omen which seemed to portend that he would 
 not live a hundred days, he handed over its super- 
 vision to Tiberius. When this was completed, Tiber- 
 ius prepared to leave Rome in order to resume his 
 military command in Illyricum. It was then mid- 
 summer, and Augustus determined to journey with 
 him by easy stages towards the Apulian coast. At 
 Astura, the aged Emperor caught a chill and suf- 
 fered from a sharp attack of dysentery. But he 
 rallied, and the two Caesars, after visiting Capreae 
 and Naples, reached Beneventum. There they 
 separated, Tiberius for Brundisium, the port of de- 
 parture for Illyricum ; Augustus for Nola, in Cam- 
 pania, where a dangerous relapse set in. Messengers 
 were hastily despatched by Livia to recall Tiberius. 
 Whether he arrived in time to receive Augustus's 
 last instructions is uncertain, but Livia took care 
 
 341 
 
342 Augushis Ccesar 
 
 that her husband's death — which the maHce. of her 
 enemies accused her of hastening — should not be 
 made known to the world until Tiberius was at 
 hand to assume the reins of power. 
 
 The scene which took place in the dying Emper- 
 or's bedchamber — the very room in which his father 
 had breathed his last more than seventy years be- 
 fore — is one of the best known in Roman history. 
 On the morning of his death, August 19th, Augustus 
 enquired from those who stood around him whether 
 there was any popular excitement at the gravity of 
 his illness. Then he called for a mirror, and bade 
 them arrange his hair and beard, and, with a flash 
 of his old irony, asked whether they thought he had 
 played his part well in the farce of life. '' If so," he 
 added, quoting from a Greek comedy, " applaud my 
 exit and clap your hands with joy." Lying back 
 upon the pillows, he asked after the health of a sick 
 grandchild of Tiberius, but his last words were to 
 his consort, Livia : *' Livia, live in remembrance of 
 our union, and fare thee well ! " Euthanasia — the 
 peaceful, painless end for which he had always 
 prayed — was vouchsafed to him, and he passed 
 quietly away without a struggle. What was in the 
 mind of the dying man, no one can say. He may 
 have been merely "sporting, in gentle irony, with 
 the vanities of a human career" — the words are 
 Merivale's— when he spoke of " the farce of life," 
 but it is hard to believe that there was not a covert 
 reference to the long intrigues and the furious jea- 
 lousies which had raged among the members of the 
 Imperial family, when he adjured Livia to remember 
 
LIVIA AS PRIESTESS OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
 FROM POMPEII, IN THE MUSEUM AT NAPLES. 
 
The Man and the Statesman 343 
 
 that she had been his consort. The simile of the 
 actor leaving the stage was, in his case, marvellously 
 apposite, but the long drama of his life had been 
 tragedy rather than farce. 
 
 They bore the body to Rome in slow and stately 
 procession, moving only by night, to avoid the 
 fierce heat of the August sun. By day it reposed in 
 the local sanctuaries of the villages and cities through 
 which their mournful route lay. At Bovillse, near 
 the foot of the Alban Hills, the whole Equestrian 
 Order was waiting to carry the dead chief over the 
 final stage of the journey, and escort him for the 
 last time to his house on the Palatine. The Senate 
 sate in long debate to discuss the arrangements for 
 a state funeral, and the most preposterous sugges- 
 tions were put forward. But these were finally set 
 on one side, and it was decided that Augustus should 
 be buried with the stately simplicity which tran- 
 scends magnificence and pomp. The body was de- 
 posited in the Forum, close by the Temple of 
 Mars. Tiberius delivered a panegyric from the 
 principal rostrum ; Drusus from another. Then the 
 bier was raised, and the procession of senators, 
 knights, soldiers, and people passed through the Porta 
 TriumphaHs to the sacred place without the city where 
 the funeral pyre had been built. The representa- 
 tives of the legions marched past with the customary 
 funeral evolutions, the torches were applied with 
 averted faces, the flames shot up and consumed the 
 body. From the ashes, extinguished with wine and 
 perfumes, an eagle was seen to soar up to heaven, 
 bearing the soul of the departed. Livia kept solemn 
 
344 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 watch for five days and nights, and then the ashes 
 were carefully collected, placed in an urn, and laid 
 in the splendid Imperial Mausoleum which Augustus 
 had built in the Campus Martius, and which already 
 contained the ashes of Marcellus and Agrippa, of 
 his sister Octavia, and of the young Princes Caius 
 and Lucius. Nerva was the last of the Roman 
 Emperors to mingle his dust with that of Augustus. 
 In 410 the Goths ransacked the vaults and scattered 
 the funeral urns; in 1167, the Mausoleum, which 
 had served the Colonnas for a fortress, was razed to 
 the ground. 
 
 On bronze pillars, standing at each side of the en- 
 trance to the Mausoleum, was inscribed the will of 
 Augustus, executed by Livia, Tiberius, Germanicus, 
 and Drusus, his principal heirs. These vanished 
 centuries ago, but copies of the Imperial testament 
 were also set up on the walls of certain temples 
 raised to the memory of Augustus in the provinces, 
 and a curious chance has preserved this celebrated 
 document in marble in the little town of Ancyra, in 
 Galatia. The Monumentum Ancyranmn — as it is 
 now called — is Augustus's own record of his life and 
 career, and it owes its survival in this remote corner 
 of the world to the fact that the Temple of Augustus 
 became successively a Christian church and a Turkish 
 mosque. We have had frequent occasion to refer to 
 its more important clauses in the course of this nar- 
 rative. Here we need only say that, read as a whole, 
 it is a disappointing document, frigid, false, almost 
 commonplace. In it Augustus laboriously counts 
 his honours, his benefactions, his doles, his public 
 
The Man and the Statesman 345 
 
 shows. He narrates the wars he waged, the alHances 
 he concluded, the nations he conquered. In it, too, 
 he traces his rise to supreme power and claims 
 that he has " restored the Republic." We would not 
 seem to underestimate the value of the Mo7iu- 
 mentmn Ancyranum, or conceal the impression 
 which it leaves upon the mind as the work of a 
 second-rate man. It is, indeed, almost incredible 
 that the hand which wrote it should have built up 
 the fabric of the Roman Empire. But only in rare 
 cases do men give free play to their imagination 
 when they draw up their wills, and, in fairness to 
 Augustus, we should remember that in this, his last 
 " Speech from the Throne," he was addressing a 
 world which scarcely understood his work, and had 
 hardly grasped the profound change which had 
 passed over the central organisation at Rome. An- 
 gus had never ** spoken out " in life ; h^ did not 
 speak out in death. We must not judge the great- 
 ness of Augustus by the paltry words and thoughts 
 of the Monumentiun Ancyranum. We must look 
 elsewhere to discover both the man and the states- 
 man. 
 
 There are few more interesting pages in Latin 
 literature than those in which Suetonius gives us a 
 personal sketch of Augustus, in the intimate style of 
 the modern paragraphist. It is the only detailed 
 character sketch of the Emperor which has survived 
 — Plutarch's Life being unfortunately lost — and, 
 in spite of the discredit into which Suetonius has 
 fallen with many modern critics, if we wish to see 
 the real Augustus, the man of flesh and blood, we 
 
34^ Augustus CcBsar 
 
 must still turn to his fascinating note-book. Au- 
 gustus had a handsome presence, says Suetonius, 
 and retained his good looks throughout his life. In 
 stature, he was rather under middle height, but his 
 limbs were so well proportioned that he seemed 
 taller. His complexion was neither swarthy nor 
 fair ; his hair was slightly curly and blonde ; his eye- 
 brows met ; his nose was high at the crown and 
 drooping at the tip ; his teeth were set wide apart 
 and in his later years much decayed. His expres- 
 sion was usually serene and tranquil, but his con- 
 temporaries chiefly remarked the piercing brilliancy 
 of his eyes. He liked people to think that their 
 brightness was due to some supernatural vigour, and 
 was pleased and flattered when those upon whom he 
 looked intently cast down their eyes as though un- 
 able to sustain the dazzling light which shone from 
 his. 
 
 Augustus was never physically strong. His left 
 hip and leg were weak and made him walk rather 
 lame, and the index finger of his right hand was 
 subject to cramp which necessitated his wearing a 
 horn ring for its support when he wrote. He had 
 many long and dangerous illnesses ; and was con- 
 stantly troubled with stone and a disordered liver. 
 Every spring he used to complain of a swelling in 
 the region of his heart, while, when the south winds 
 were prevalent, he was never free from catarrh. The 
 extremes both of heat and cold tried him severely. 
 During the winter, he wore, in addition to his thick 
 toga, four tunics, a shirt, a woollen chest protector, 
 and stockings ; and in summer he slept with his win- 
 
The Man and the Statesman 347 
 
 dows wide open, or in the peristyle of his house with 
 a fountain playing near him and some one to fan 
 him. He was a confirmed valetudinarian, and pre- 
 ferred being rubbed with oil to washing in cold 
 water, and frequently used sea water or warm sul- 
 phur water as a tonic. After the civil wars he en- 
 tirely gave up horsemanship and miHtary exercises 
 and took to playing games at ball, but soon after- 
 wards he restricted himself to drives and walks, fin- 
 ishing up with a short burst of running or leaping, 
 with a carriage rug or blanket thrown over him. In 
 later life he travelled in a litter, usually at night, and 
 at such a snail's pace that he would occupy two days 
 in making the journey to Tibur or Praeneste, dis- 
 tances of only eighteen and twenty-one miles from 
 Rome. 
 
 The pleasures of the table had no attraction for 
 him, and his tastes, both in eating and drinking, 
 were of the simplest. He ate when he was hungry, 
 without regard for stated hours, and then his favour- 
 ite food consisted of coarse bread, small fish, cheese 
 made of goat's milk, and green figs. '' No Jew ever 
 keeps his sabbath fast," he once wrote to Tiberius, 
 " as strictly as I have done to-day. I only ate two 
 mouthfuls in the bath from the first hour of the 
 night until my man came to anoint me." Thus, 
 though he entertained constantly, he often sat at 
 table without touching anything, and took food 
 either before his guests came or after they had de- 
 parted. His dinners were short, consisting, as a 
 rule, of three courses only, and of six at the most. 
 But they were bright and lively, for Augustus liked 
 
34^ Attgustus CcBsar 
 
 the conversation to be general, and often called in 
 reciters, actors, and even pantomimists from the cir- 
 cus to amuse the company. Wine he took most 
 sparingly, rarely drinking except at dinner, and 
 quenching his thirst between times with a little 
 bread steeped in cold water, a slice of cucumber, a 
 leaf of lettuce, or a juicy apple. After the midday 
 meal he would rest a while, with a wrap thrown over 
 his feet and shading his eyes with his hand. After 
 dinner he used to finish his day's work, and then 
 betake himself to bed. He allowed himself seven 
 hours' sleep, but he usually woke three or four times 
 during the night, and if he found any difificulty in 
 falling off to sleep again, he used to send for some 
 one to read to him or tell him stories. 
 
 His personal tastes were those of a simple citizen. 
 In his younger days he had been bitten by the 
 prevailing craze for Corinthian bronzes and rare 
 furniture, and it was said that some of the vic- 
 tims of the great proscription owed their inclusion 
 in the fatal list to their rich collections of bronzes 
 which Augustus coveted. He changed as he grew 
 older. Out of all the spoils of Alexandria he only 
 reserved for himself a single Myrrhine vase, and he 
 melted down the gold vessels which had been in use 
 in his household. His mansion on the Palatine 
 was one of the most modest in Rome, and for more 
 than forty years he used the same bedchamber both 
 in summer and winter. He had a small detached 
 building erected in the grounds to which he retired 
 when he wished to be undisturbed, and, if he felt 
 unwell, he often went to sleep in Maecenas's house 
 
The Man and the Statesman 349 
 
 on the Esquiline. His country villas, at Lanuvium, 
 Praeneste, and Tibur, were on the same unpretentious 
 scale, and he razed to the ground a luxurious villa 
 which had been built by his daughter Julia. His 
 statues and pictures were nothing to boast of, and 
 his furniture was commonplace and undistinguished; 
 but he took a great interest in planting avenues and 
 beautifying his grounds, and he had the antiquarian's 
 eye for fragments of ancient art and sculpture. His 
 beds and tables were long carefully preserved to 
 shew the simplicity which had contented the founder 
 of the Empire. His personal attire was equally de- 
 stitute of distinction. He wore nothing which had 
 not been woven by the members of his own family, 
 and the only vanity he permitted himself was that 
 the soles of his shoes were rather thicker than usual, 
 in order to add a little to his height. 
 
 His chief amusement was playing at dice, but he 
 played merely for pastime, caring nothing whether 
 he won or lost. Suetonius preserves a curious frag- 
 ment of a letter written by the Emperor to Tiberius, 
 in which he says : 
 
 We spent the festival of Minerva quite pleasantly, 
 for we kept the dice-board warm, and played all day 
 long. Your brother did a lot of shouting as he played ; 
 but in the end he did not lose much, for, after standing 
 to lose heavily, he gradually retrieved his position. I 
 dropped twenty thousand nummi, but that was because 
 I played with my usual reckless generosity. If I had 
 insisted on being paid on the coups which I brought off, 
 or had kept the money which I gave to those at the 
 table with me, I should have won as much as fifty 
 
350 Attgustus CcBsar 
 
 thousand. But I like my way best, for my kind-hearted- 
 ness will win me a heavenly crown of glory. 
 
 Occasionally he angled a little, and, as we have 
 seen in another chapter, he was a devoted and regu- 
 lar patron of the public shows and all manner of 
 theatrical entertainments. But Suetonius discloses 
 a much more amiable trait in the Emperor's char- 
 acter when he describes how he delighted in the 
 company of little children, and joined in the games 
 which they played with marbles and nuts. Moorish 
 and Syrian children, who were brought to the palace 
 for his amusement, pleased him most. He liked 
 their pretty faces and their prattling talk. 
 
 Like most of the cultured Romans of his day he 
 enjoyed the study of rhetoric and the humanities. 
 He had taken great pains in his younger years to 
 become a good speaker, and even during the anxie- 
 ties of the campaign of Mutina had never let a day 
 pass without devoting some hours to reading, writ- 
 ing, and declamation. He spoke in a natural voice, 
 which was pleasant to listen to, and did not lack for 
 fluency. But it was characteristic of the man that 
 he was afraid of his memory playing him false and 
 of letting fall an incautious word, and consequently 
 he invariably prepared his speeches beforehand and 
 wrote them out on paper. For important interviews 
 with single individuals and even with his wife Livia 
 — a fact suggestive of " scenes " in the Imperial fam- 
 ily — he followed the same plan, lest he should say a 
 word too much or too little. He was a purist in his 
 choice of language, detesting anything approaching 
 
The Man and the Statesman 351 
 
 to affectation in style, and it was his special care to 
 make his meaning as clear as possible. He used to 
 chaff Maecenas for his preciosity of diction and 
 Tiberius for his archaisms, while Marcus Antonius 
 he described as a madman who strove to make peo- 
 ple stare instead of writing what they could under- 
 stand. " Do you think," he said, " that we want the 
 empty, senseless gush of Asiatic rhetoricians intro- 
 duced into our everyday speech ? " We have seen 
 how he taught his young grandsons, Caius and 
 Lucius, to imitate his handwriting; to their Httle 
 sister, Agrippina, he wrote, "You must do your very 
 best not to be affected when you write or speak." 
 Like Lord Palmerston he was intolerant of a badly 
 written despatch, and he once summarily dismissed 
 a legate of consular rank from his post for writing 
 *' ixi " instead of " ipsi." " Such a clumsy and illit- 
 erate boor " was unfit for his service, and he sent him 
 a successor. Suetonius expresses surprise at this 
 story, for he notes that Augustus often spelt words 
 phonetically and changed not only single letters, but 
 whole syllables. But Emperors are privileged per- 
 sons, and supra grammaticam. 
 
 Augustus aspired to authorship, and used to read 
 his compositions to a select company of friends, fol- 
 lowing the fashion which had been newly introduced 
 by Asinius PoUio. We need not perhaps regret the 
 loss of his Exhortation to the Study of Philosophy, 
 but the Reply to Brutus on the Subject of Cato and 
 the History of My Life — the latter in thirteen books 
 covering his career down to the Spanish Expedition 
 — would have been of invaluable assistance to the 
 
352 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 historians of this period. Poetry he essayed, but 
 rather as an exercise than as a serious study. A poem 
 on "■ Sicily,'* a volume of Epigrams, and an unfinished 
 tragedy dealing with the story of Ajax comprised 
 his entire efforts in this direction. He started the 
 tragedy with great zest, but his pen did not run 
 fluently. "How is Ajax getting on?" his friends 
 asked. " Ajax has fallen upon his — sponge," was 
 the neat reply. Doubtless Augustus was wise to 
 cheat the critics of an easy prey. He had studied 
 Greek learning and philosophy in his youth under 
 Apollodorus of Pergamum. Arius of Alexandria 
 was one of his most intimate friends, and the two 
 sons of Arius, Dionysius and Nicanor, dwelt with 
 him on the Palatine. Yet we are told that whenever 
 he had occasion to write in Greek he set down in 
 Latin what he wished to say and then handed it 
 over to one of his Greek secretaries to be translated. 
 Probably he was afraid of committing some solecism 
 which might be turned into ridicule by his sharp- 
 tongued Eastern subjects. Suetonius adds another 
 detail which is intensely characteristic of Augustus. 
 Whenever, in the course of his reading, he came 
 upon a passage containing a useful sentiment or 
 maxim which tended to edification, he had it copied 
 out and sent it to such of his court officials and 
 provincial governors as needed a word in season. It 
 was ever one of the Emperor's foibles to believe 
 that he could work moral revolutions by setting his 
 people good copy-book headlines. 
 
 There is a dark side, however, to the character of 
 Augustus which cannot be glossed over. Whether, 
 
The Man and the Statesman 353 
 
 in his earlier years, he had been guilty of the gross 
 offences attributed to him, we cannot tell. Such 
 charges were recklessly made ; scarcely any one who 
 rose to eminence escaped them. On this point 
 he may fairly be given the benefit of the doubt and 
 the benefit also of the enormous difference between 
 the moral standards of his time and those of our 
 own. But the indulgence which is granted to youth 
 cannot be extended indefinitely to manhood and 
 age, and the private life of the Emperor has justly 
 fallen under the lash of the moralist. The moral 
 hypocrite is always odious and contemptible, and the 
 irregularities of Augustus were notorious and beyond 
 denial. Scribonia, it was said, had complained that 
 his mistresses were more powerful than herself. She 
 was divorced. Livia was more astute. Failing as 
 she did to bear him children, she connived at, and, 
 according to the gossip of the day, even ministered 
 to his passions, in order to retain her influence over 
 him. His friends put forward the despicable excuse 
 that Augustus intrigued with the wives of those 
 whom he distrusted in order that he might learn 
 their secrets, and so sought to justify his adultery by 
 pleading the necessities of statecraft. The plea 
 merely aggravates the offence. 
 
 There is nothing surprising in the failure of an 
 emperor to observe his own edicts, when these edicts 
 are directed against immorality, or in the violent 
 anger displayed by a licentious parent at the Hcen- 
 tiousness of his child. Such phenomena are com- 
 mon enough. But what is surprising in the case of 
 Augustus is that in every other respect he Avas ascetic 
 
 23 
 
354 Augustus Ccssar 
 
 and puritanical. There are indeed those who be- 
 lieve that his whole career was a lie, that his auster- 
 ity of life was assumed for effect, that his call to the 
 age to revert to ancient ideals was a sham, and that 
 his zeal for religion was sheer hypocrisy. The 
 theory is simple, but it solves the difficulty much 
 too easily to carry conviction, and this assuredly is 
 not the explanation of so Sphinx-like a personality. 
 On the contrary, it is far more probable that Augus- 
 tus belonged to that numerous class of men who see 
 the right course and pursue it, but with frequent 
 lapses into the wrong. It scarcely required that 
 Augustus should be a pattern of virtue for him to 
 realise whither Roman society was drifting or, in- 
 deed, had already drifted. He was a moral re- 
 former, because moral reform was imperative. He 
 was the author of the Lex Julia de Adulteriis be- 
 cause the times required such a law. The beam in 
 his own eye did not destroy his vision. He was 
 essentially religious and superstitious and these 
 qualities have often been associated with profligacy. 
 He was also an ascetic. Human nature is capable 
 of endless combinations, but the conjunction of as- 
 ceticism and licentiousness is so rare that, when it 
 is met with, it is hardly recognised, and men are 
 tempted to deny either one quality or the other. 
 Yet such was the character of Augustus. In this 
 one respect he was a moral hypocrite ; in all others 
 his moral zeal was sincere, though it was inspired 
 perhaps by reasons of state and careful calculation 
 rather than by personal enthusiasm for morality. 
 We have already dwelt upon his strong family 
 
The Man and the Statesman 355 
 
 affections, as displayed in his tender regard for his 
 sister, Octavia, and her son, Marcellus, in his love for 
 his daughter Julia, and in his devotion to her two 
 eldest boys. He was also a faithful friend. It was 
 not easy to win his friendship, but, once obtained, it 
 was sure. He not only, says Suetonius, suitably re- 
 warded the virtues and merits of his intimates, but 
 bore with their failures and shortcomings as long as 
 they were not too flagrant : Vitia quoque et delicta^ 
 dumtaxat modica, perpessus. Salvidienus Rufus and 
 Cornelius Gallus were the only two of his friends 
 who fell into deep disgrace. With the rest there 
 might be temporary estrangements, as with Maece- 
 nas and Agrippa, but though they lost the Emperor's 
 confidence, he did not pursue them with the vindic- 
 tiveness which it is the usual fate of a disgraced 
 minister to suffer. Augustus was no gloomy and 
 solitary tyrant, dwelling apart from his fellow-men ; 
 he craved for friendship and its outward manifesta- 
 tions. When his intimates died he expected to 
 be mentioned in their wills and carefully scrutinised 
 the words in which they referred to him in their last 
 testaments. The legacies themselves were quite a 
 secondary consideration. He usually relinquished 
 them to the next of kin, or, if the heirs were minors, 
 he kept the money until they were of age and then 
 handed it over with substantial increase. Such 
 anxiety to be appreciated may be a weakness, but it 
 is at least a human weakness. In his household he 
 was strict but forgiving, and an easy master to 
 serve. He employed a number of freedmen, many of 
 whom gained his complete confidence. Occasionally 
 
356 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 indeed, his punishments were of great severity, 
 yet all men spoke with praise of his wonderful 
 clemency. 
 
 "The clemency of Augustus " passed into a pro- 
 verb, in spite of the great proscription. He had 
 climbed to power over the dead bodies of those who 
 stood in his path. Other conquerors have done the 
 same. If he had lost, his life, too, would have been 
 forfeited. But once secure, he spared the enemies 
 from whom he had nothing to fear. He sought to 
 conciliate his opponents, to disarm the discontented. 
 He did not repress criticism or punish those who 
 attacked him with speech or pamphlet. Once when 
 Tiberius wrote to him advocating repressive meas- 
 ures, Augustus replied : " Do not, my dear Tiberius, 
 let your youthful impetuosity run away with you in 
 such a matter, nor allow your indignation to run riot 
 because some one speaks injuriously of me. It is 
 enough if we can make sure that no one can do us 
 an injury.'* There spoke the statesman. In modern 
 phrase, Augustus saw the folly of sitting on the 
 safety-valve. Thus he tolerated opposition so long 
 as it was not armed and could inflict no deadly 
 wound, and when, on one occasion, the lampooners 
 scattered copies of their scurrilous verses in the 
 Senate house, he merely suggested that the Senate 
 should, at some later date, discuss the advisibility of 
 punishing the anonymous publication of libel. Many 
 interesting stories are told of his tolerance. We 
 hear, for example, of some one shouting in the Sen- 
 ate, "I don't understand you," as Augustus was 
 speaking; of another interrupting him with the 
 
The Man and the Statesman 357 
 
 words, '' I would contradict you, if I had an oppor- 
 tunity " ; and of the cry, ''There ought to be free 
 speech in the Senate," when he angrily quitted the 
 Chamber after a heated and stormy scene. More 
 amusing are the stories told of Antistius Labeo, the 
 famous jurisconsult, one of the " characters " of 
 Rome, who scarcely took the trouble to conceal his 
 Republican sympathies. When the Senate voted 
 the Emperor a senatorial guard of honour to watch 
 outside his bedchamber, Labeo drily remarked that 
 he was unsuitable for the dignity, for he snored and 
 might disturb the Emperor's sleep. Again, at the 
 revision of the Senate, Labeo voted for the inclusion 
 of Marcus Lepidus, then in exile. " Is there no one 
 more worthy?" asked Augustus with a frown. 
 " Each man has a right to his own opinion," was the 
 ready reply. When Messala Corvinus resigned the 
 praefecture of the city, after holding it only for six 
 days, with the remark that he knew not how to 
 exercise a power which was inimical to liberty, 
 Augustus took no ofTence. He simply conferred the 
 ofifice upon another who had fewer scruples. 
 
 He was affable and accessible to all. His doors 
 were always open, and he received even the humblest 
 with a gracious kindliness. The title of " Dominus " 
 he forbade by special edict, and would not allow his 
 favourite grandchildren to address him by that name 
 even in jest. Once when a supplicant handed him 
 a petition with a clumsy and exaggerated shew of 
 deference, the Emperor wittily remarked that he 
 might be offering a halfpenny to an elephant. 
 Augustus was considerate in all things. To prevent 
 
358 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 public inconvenience he usually entered or quitted 
 the city by night, so that his friends might not feel 
 obliged to escort him, after the Roman fashion, to 
 or from the gates. Yet he himself observed with 
 exactitude all the punctilio of Roman etiquette, and 
 never missed honouring his friends with his presence 
 at their houses when they were keeping festivals 
 of birth or marriage. Only in his later years, after 
 being mobbed at a marriage function, did he per- 
 form by proxy the ofifices of friendship. His Palace 
 was scarcely a palace in the modern sense of the 
 term. The paraphernalia of a court, and the host 
 of court officials, with purely ceremonial duties, were 
 introduced after his death, or were to be found in 
 the adjoining house of Livia. Augustus's Palace was 
 rather the central bureau of the Empire, where the 
 Emperor worked and where he also happened to live. 
 
 It is perhaps an easier task to estimate Augustus 
 as a statesman than as a man, for there is one 
 supreme test question which we can put to all great 
 rulers. It is this : " What have they done for their 
 country?" If we strike the balance between the 
 good and the evil which they wrought — and no 
 important poHtical changes can be effected without 
 destroying much that is worth preservation — does 
 the good outweigh the evil ? Let us apply this test 
 to Augustus and his work. 
 
 He destroyed the Republic; he founded the 
 Roman Empire. There are those who regard this 
 as an inexpiable crime. They are tempted to forget 
 the vices of the Republic, because they were asso- 
 ciated with free institutions, and the virtues of the 
 
The Man and the Statesman 359 
 
 Empire, because they were associated with abso- 
 lutism. But those who take this view ought to be 
 able to shew that the Republic was capable of being 
 reformed and re-organised from within ; that the 
 Senate and the Comitia were capable of dealing with 
 the new world problems which were demanding 
 solution, and that there was at least a reasonable 
 chance of a working arrangement being arrived at 
 between them, whereby the affairs of the State 
 might be efficiently administered. But this is pre- 
 cisely what cannot be shewn. We look in vain for 
 any indication in the last fifty years of the Republic 
 that either the old oligarchical families or the popu- 
 lar party would have risen to a broad conception of 
 what the Roman world required. The Optimates 
 formed a narrow clique, jealous only of their class 
 privileges ; the supremacy of the Populares meant 
 mob-rule, pure and simple. Such a system could not 
 be made efficient by peaceful constitutional reform ; 
 it needed to be transformed by violent methods. 
 Julius had recognised this; Augustus recognised it 
 also. But he sought to conceal the transformation 
 as much as possible, by retaining the ancient forms. 
 He spoke of the Principate as though it were merely 
 another magistracy in the Republic. He established 
 a dyarchy, dividing the government of the world 
 between himself and the Senate, but every year 
 that passed made this dyarchy more and more a 
 sham. The Principate at the death of Augustus 
 was an Empire in everything but in name. 
 
 Let it be granted then that what Augustus estab- 
 lished was — if we look merely at names and their 
 
360 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 strict meaning — a sham and a fraud. But a consti- 
 tution may be a sham and yet, in Carlyle's phrase, it 
 may " march." Some of the most perfectly logical 
 paper constitutions have proved the most appalling 
 failures; some of the least logical have succeeded 
 best and lasted longest. The divergence between 
 theory and practice, on which we have laid stress in 
 previous chapters and to which the hostile critics of 
 Augustus point as though it were a conclusive and 
 unanswerable condemnation of his system, is a 
 familiar feature of the British, and indeed of every 
 unwritten, constitution. Yet the smooth working 
 of the British constitution, in spite of its being a 
 tangled mass of contradictions, is the envy of many 
 states whose constitutions are masterpieces of logi- 
 cal ingenuity. So, though the dyarchy of Augustus 
 was an imposture — for the division of power be- 
 tween the Senate and the Principate was an unequal 
 division — it yet served its purpose. It smoothed 
 the process of transition from Republic to Empire ; 
 it gratified the susceptibilities of the RepubHcan 
 Senators ; it salved wounded pride ; it disarmed, 
 during the most critical years, active oppposition. 
 Augustus was a typical opportunist in politics, and 
 the name carries with it a certain reproach. Yet 
 every great statesman, who has accomplished any- 
 thing permanent, has found himself obliged to play 
 the part of the opportunist, to make allowances for 
 prejudice and ignorance, to flatter the vanity of his 
 opponents, and to concihate their wrath by timely 
 concessions. So long as he is guided by some great 
 principle tending to the general welfare of the State, 
 
The Man and the Statesman 361 
 
 such opportunism is really only another name for 
 the statecraft which is an essential feature of states- 
 manship. And Augustus possessed such a guiding 
 principle, which may be summed up in the one word 
 — Order. He set the Roman world in order. Those 
 who contemptuously dismiss him as a man of sec- 
 ond-rate intelligence assuredly forget the magnitude 
 of that task. 
 
 His is not an heroic figure. Our sympathies 
 are not irresistibly drawn towards him as they are 
 to the brilliant and versatile Julius. Indeed, he 
 repels rather than attracts. He excites cold ap- 
 proval and respect but kindles no enthusiasm. He 
 was not a visionary or a dreamer — there was no 
 touch of ** the practical mystic " in him which we 
 find in men like Napoleon or Cromwell — he was, so 
 far as politics were concerned, wholly practical and 
 without imagination. But these, after all, were the 
 qualities most requisite in the statesman who under- 
 took to " tidy up " the Roman world from the chaos 
 in which it had been left by the civil wars. He suc- 
 ceeded perfectly, and he was, throughout his reign, 
 rather the Managing Director of the Empire than its 
 Emperor. We think of Augustus not as a dazzling 
 central figure upon a throne and not as the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief of the scattered Roman legions on 
 the Tagus, the Rhine, the Danube, the Euphrates, 
 and the Nile, but as the business man in his private 
 room in the Palace grounds, clad in a work-a-day 
 dress of homespun, busy with despatches from his 
 agents abroad. The well-known lines of Horace 
 give us the truest picture of Augustus : 
 
362 Augustus Ccesar 
 
 " Quum tot sustineas et tanta negotia solus, 
 Res Italas armis tuteris, moribus ornes, 
 Legibus emendes, in publica commoda peccem, 
 Si longo sermone morer tua tempora, Caesar." 
 
 And he was no Philip II. of Spain, patiently and 
 conscientiously blinding himself over official detail 
 which his dull wit could not grasp. Love of detail 
 was his second nature, and the detail all formed 
 part of his great scheme of order and efficiency. 
 Voltaire once described Augustus as " un monstre 
 adroit et heureux " — an excellent example of misap- 
 plied terseness of expression, yet containing just a 
 few grains of truth. The cold-blooded calculation 
 and adroitness displayed by Augustus after the 
 battle of Mutina, when he was still in his teens, 
 and his sanction of the great proscription may al- 
 most justify the word ** monster." But he was then 
 a gamester playing for his life against even more 
 reckless gamesters, who were playing for theirs. 
 It was no time for generosity; as Antonius had 
 said, " Only the winner will live." But it is absurd 
 to judge the Emperor Augustus, who died at the 
 age of seventy-six, by his actions before he was 
 twenty-one, to remember only the proscription and 
 forget that he was known to his countrymen for 
 centuries as the magnanimous and the clement. 
 Calculating and adroit he remained to the end, but 
 these qualities spell statesmanship, and as for his 
 luck, luck in politics is usually the reward of com- 
 petence and capacity. " We must take the current 
 when it serves, or lose our ventures." Augustus 
 
CAMEO OF AUGUSTUS WITH AN /EGIS 
 
 FROM THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 
 
The Man a7id the Statesman 363 
 
 took it ; Antonius did not. Fortune certainly fav- 
 oured him, and the phrase '' Sis felicior Augusto'' 
 becanae the recognised salutation to the Throne. 
 But he deserved fortune because he put himself in 
 Fortune's way. He owed nothing to good luck in 
 his patient reorganisation of the Empire. While 
 others would have remained in Rome to enjoy in 
 ease the fruits of victory, Augustus spent many 
 years in journeying through his dominions and set- 
 ting the crooked straight. He gave peace within 
 the Empire by battering down all opposition. His 
 methods were often ruthless ; they must have caused 
 untold misery among the natives of Spain, northern 
 Italy, and Gaul, for he transported whole tribes from 
 their native homes and sold whole races into slavery. 
 Yet civiHsation has reaped the benefit. The rapid 
 and permanent Romanisation of Gaul and Spain was 
 the grand result, in the presence of which History 
 either ignores or condones the crime. 
 
 We have said that Augustus was without imagina- 
 tion. Perhaps that is too sweeping a judgment to 
 pass upon the man who rebuilt Rome on so splendid 
 a scale. Yet even here we suspect that his main 
 idea was to impress the imagination of others. The 
 grandeur of Rome was a great business asset of the 
 Empire. It flattered the pride of the Romans; it 
 created a sense of awe among the provincials ; it was 
 a sort of visible guarantee that the new regime had 
 come to stay. But we suspect that the Emperor 
 took a keener interest in the reports of the Tiber 
 Conservancy Board and the construction of the great 
 military roads over the Alps than he did in the 
 
364 Augustus CcBsar 
 
 completion of the various amphitheatres and temples 
 which rose under his guidance in the capital. It 
 was the practical side of the great Imperial idea 
 which appealed most to him. Efficient government, 
 safe frontiers, the opening of new trade routes, and 
 a full exchequer — to secure those was his constant 
 occupation. He had, in a word, the practical im- 
 agination which goes to make a successful business 
 man and a practical statesman. Chateaubriand has 
 said that Augustus did not belong to the select 
 company of that first class of men who make revolu- 
 tions, but rather to the second class who profit by 
 them. There is much truth in that saying. If there 
 had been no Julius, there would have been no Au- 
 gustus. But this does not derogate from his great- 
 ness. His work endured — there lies its justification. 
 He built up the Principate, which became gradually 
 transformed into the Empire. If liberty died in 
 Rome, the capital, a new life arose in the provinces 
 of the west and in Africa. The Hellenism of the 
 eastern portion of the Empire endured as before ; it 
 was no part of the Roman mission to destroy the 
 Hellenistic civilisation and replace it by the Roman. 
 Such an attempt was never made ; if it had been, it 
 must have failed. 
 
 What then was the main result of his work? The 
 answer is clear. He knitted together the Roman 
 world, east and west, into one great organisation of 
 which the Emperor stood as the supreme head. He 
 set his legions upon the distant frontiers and their 
 swords formed a wall of steel within which com- 
 merce and peace might flourish. The security was 
 
Sta/ifbrds Geoq'- Estab^ 
 
The Man and the Statesma7i 365 
 
 not perpetual, yet it lasted for four centuries, and 
 saved ancient civilisation from destruction. But for 
 the Empire and the system inaugurated by Augus- 
 tus, there is every probability that the Roman civil- 
 isation would have been as thoroughly wiped out in 
 Gaul and Spain, as it was in northern Africa, and as 
 the civilisation of Greece was blotted out in Asia 
 Minor and Syria. We may regret the degeneration 
 of Rome, its loss of freedom, the tyranny of the 
 later Emperors, the civil wars which followed, and 
 the decay of the old martial spirit in the Roman 
 people. But the seeds of degeneration and decay 
 had been planted in the days of the Republic, and 
 would have come to maturity far sooner if there had 
 been no Augustus and no Empire. Augustus started 
 the Roman world on a new career. He made it re- 
 alise its unity for the first time. That was his life- 
 work, and its consequences are felt to this day. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Actium, campaign and battle of, 
 140-144 
 
 Ethiopia, 281 
 
 Africa, organisation of, 281-283 
 
 Agrippa (Marcus Vipsanius), con- 
 sults astrologer, 11 ; strategy in 
 PerusineWar, 102^./ consul, 
 115 ; reorganises Octavian's 
 navy, 115 ff.; in naval com- 
 mand against Sextus Pompeius, 
 \\1 ff.; at battle of Naulochus, 
 122 ; strategy in the campaign 
 of Actium, 1^0 ff.; advice to 
 Augustus, 162 ; joint consul 
 with Augustus, 166 ; receives 
 Augustus's signet ring, 173 ; 
 patron of architecture, 2Q\ff.; 
 sketch of his career, 247-253 
 
 Agrippa Postumus, 320, 332 ff. 
 
 Ahenobarbus (Domitius), 8sff., 
 96, 104, 108 
 
 Alexandria, 95, 138, 145^. 
 
 Aliso, 306, 312 
 
 Ancyranum Monumentuni, 219, 
 269, 272, 291, 344^. 
 
 Antioch, 272 
 
 Antium, meeting of the Libera- 
 tors at, 2%ff. 
 
 Antonius (Caius), 20, 51 
 
 Antonius (Lucius), 9, 98-105 
 
 Antonius (Marcus), after Caesar's 
 murder, 3 ff.; personal su- 
 premacy, 8; interview with 
 Octavian, 21 ; changes the 
 
 provincial appointments, 27 ; 
 his clever tactics, 28 ; relations 
 with Octavian, 34 ; threatens 
 Cicero, 3Sff-j ^.t the head of 
 his legions, 40 ; besieges D. 
 Brutus in Mutina, 48 ; embassy 
 to, 53 ; defeat at Mutina, 
 55 ff.; skilful retreat, 58 ; 
 joins Lepidus, ^2 ff.; the tri- 
 umvirate and proscription, 
 1Sff-j campaign at Philippi, 
 86, 92 ; goes East, 95 ; influ- 
 ence of Cleopatra over, 95, 
 106 ; sails for Italy, 106 ; peace 
 negotiated with Octavian, 108; 
 marries Octavia, 109 ; confer- 
 ence at Misenum, 11 1; at 
 Athens, 112 ; renews triumvir- 
 ate, 116; infatuation for Cleo- 
 patra, 130 ; disastrous cam- 
 paign in Media, 130 ff.; in 
 Armenia, 133 ; preparing for 
 war against Octavian, \3\ff.; 
 divorces Octavia, 136 ; his 
 supposed will, 137 ; war de- 
 clared, 138 ; his forces, 139^./ 
 flight from Actium, 143 ; clos- 
 ing scenes at Alexandria, 145- 
 148 
 
 Appian, 39, 68, 78, 104 
 
 Arabia, 278^. 
 
 Arbalo, 305 
 
 Arius, 148, 352 
 
 Armenia, 130^., 2^1 ff. 
 
 Arminius, 30^ ff. 
 
 Artavasdes, King of Media, 130 
 
 367 
 
368 
 
 Index 
 
 Artavasdes, King of Armenia, 
 270/'. 
 
 Artaxata, 130 
 
 Ada, 13, 20 
 
 Atticus, 5, 42, 44 
 
 Augustales, 214 
 
 Augustus, title of, 171 
 
 Augustus, birth, 10; boyhood, 11; 
 at Apollonia, 12 ; lands in 
 Italy, 14 ; takes title of Caius 
 Julius Caesar Octavianus, 14 
 interview with Cicero, 16 
 claims his inheritance, 20 ff. 
 his policy and relations with 
 Antonius, 34 ; appeals to 
 Caesar's veterans, 38^./ rela- 
 tions with Cicero, 43 ; cham- 
 pion of the Senate, 52 ff.; 
 operations near Mutina, SSff-J 
 neglects to pursue Antonius, 
 58 ; intrigues for the consul- 
 ship, d^ff.; marches on Rome, 
 71 ; elected consul, 73 ; under- 
 standing with Antonius and 
 Lepidus, 74 ; the triumvirate, 
 ISff-j his share in the pro- 
 scription, 82 ; unsuccessful 
 attempt against Sextus Pom- 
 peius, 84 ; his camp captured 
 at Philippi, 89 ; return to 
 Italy and illness, 96 ; settling 
 the military colonies, 97 ; re- 
 volt of Caius Antonius and the 
 Perusine War, 99-105 ; negoti- 
 ations at Brundisium and Mi- 
 senum, 108-111 ; operations 
 against Sextus Pompeius, 113- 
 116 ; renewal of triumvirate, 
 116; final campaign against 
 Sextus Pompeius, 11 7-1 23; 
 treatment of Lepidus, Yi^ff.; 
 popular welcome at Rome, 
 11'] ff.j campaigns in Illyria, 
 
 135 ; rupture with Antonius, 
 
 136 ^.y Actium and Alexan- 
 dria, 139-150; his position in 
 the State, 159-171 ; in Spain, 
 172; dangerous illness, iTiff.; 
 resigns consulship but accepts 
 the tribtmicia potestas , !"](> ff.; 
 
 constitutional changes, 180- 
 195; social and religious re- 
 forms, 199-221; his debt to Mse- 
 cenas, 237 ff.; relations with 
 Agrippa, 247 jf.y general pro- 
 vincial and frontier policy, 
 254-319 ; his family relation- 
 ships, 320-340 ; death, 341 ff.; 
 his personal tastes and charac- 
 ter, 345-358 ; the statesman 
 and his work, 358-365 
 
 B 
 
 Balbus, 18 
 
 Bato, 299 
 
 Britain, 171 
 
 Brundisium, 14, 40, 84, loi, 107, 
 144 ; treaty of, 108 ff. 
 
 Brutus (Decimus), 6, 24, 48, 55 
 #. 58#., 74/-. 
 
 Brutus (Marcus Junius), after 
 Caesar's murder, 3 ff.; truce 
 with Antonius, 5 ; leaves 
 Rome, 24 ; grain conimission- 
 erships, 28 ; manifesto against 
 Antonius, 31 ; vigorous action 
 in Macedonia, 51 ; strategy 
 before Philippi, 84 ff.; exacts 
 ten years' tribute from Asia 
 Minor, 85 ; at Philippi, 87-92 
 
 Caedicius, 312 
 
 Csesar (Caius Julius), iff., 10 _^., 
 
 20^., 24/:, 359 
 Csesarea, 284 
 Caesarion, 137, 148 
 Caesar-worship, 212 ff. 
 Caius Caesar, 252, 270 ff., 320, 
 
 325 #M 329 /". 
 
 Calenus, 105 
 
 Carthage, 28 1 
 
 Cassius (Caius Longinus), after 
 Ccesar's murder, 3 ff.; leaves 
 Rome, 24 ; council at Antium, 
 1'^ ff.; success in Asia Minor, 
 50 ; capture of Rhodes. 85 ; 
 dispositions at Philippi, ^^ ff.; 
 counsels delay, 89 ; suicide of, 
 90 
 
Index 
 
 369 
 
 Cassius (Dion), historian, 104, 
 149, 162, 203, 233, 234, 252, 
 
 299. 314 
 
 Census, 169 
 
 Charmion, 151 
 
 Cicero (Marcus Tullius), joins 
 the Liberators, 3 ; advocates 
 amnesty, 5 ; his hopes and 
 fears, 11 ff.; first opinions of 
 Octavian, 18 ; growing de- 
 spondency, 24 ff.; loyalty to 
 the Liberators, 26 ; at An- 
 tium, 29 ; goes to Rome, 32 ; 
 delivers First Philippic, 35 ; 
 divided mind towards Octa- 
 vian, 44 ; publishes Second 
 Philippic, 45 ; pledges his 
 word for loyalty of Octavian, 
 47 ; in good hope, 51 ; rejoic- 
 ings at relief of Mutina, S^ff-J 
 shelves Octavian prematurely, 
 57 ; last despairing efforts, 66 
 ff.; proscribed, 79; the pa- 
 triot statesman, 80 
 
 Cicero quoted, 188, 232, 234, 
 285, 287 
 
 Cimber, 24 
 
 Cinna (Cn. Cornelius), 196 
 
 Cleopatra, 84, 95, 129 Jf., 133 
 ff., I38#., 145-152 
 
 Comitia under Augustus, 189 _^. 
 
 Conspiracies against Augustus, 
 
 153, 195 #• 
 Corn supply, 192 
 Cornificius (Quintus), 50, 67, 83 
 Cottius, 292 
 Council of State, 184 
 Curatorships, 193 
 Currency, 230 
 
 Danube as a frontier, 290-300 
 Decumates, Agri, 295 
 Dolabella (P. Cornelius), 4, 8, 9, 
 
 25, 27, 29, 46, 50 
 Druidism, 258 
 Drusus, brother of Tiberius, 248, 
 
 293/"., 303 ff. 
 24 
 
 Drusus the younger, 343 
 
 Egypt, capture of, by Augustus, 
 145 ff.; its incorporation, 
 154; administration of, 276 
 ff.; Augustus's policv in, 277 
 
 Elbe, Drusus advances to, 303 
 ff.; Augustus orders return 
 from, 316^. 
 
 Eporedia, 293 
 
 Eros, 147 
 
 Florus, historian, 311 
 Fulvia, 98/:, 108 
 
 Callus (Cornelius), 148, 277, 355 
 
 Callus (^lius), 278/. 
 
 Gaul, general organisation and 
 
 Romanisation of, 254-261 
 Germanicus, 298, 300, 315, 317, 
 
 332 
 Germany, campaigns in, 300-319 
 Greece, decay of, 273^. 
 
 H 
 
 Herod the Great, 283/: 
 Hirtius, 18,46, 54^. 
 Horace, 209, 240^., 361 
 
 J 
 
 Janus, closing Temple of, 157, 
 172 
 
 Jerusalem, 286 
 
 Jews, Roman policy towards, 
 287/-. 
 
 Judaa, 283^. 
 
 Julia, daughter of Augustus, 
 248, 249, 251/:, 320 jf. 
 
 Julia, granddaughter of Augus- 
 tus, 332, 32t>ff. 
 
 Juvenal, 194 
 
370 
 
 Index 
 
 K 
 
 Knights, under Augustus, i^l ff.., 
 237 i?^. 
 
 Labeo (Antistius), 357 
 
 Laterensis, 63 
 
 Lepidus (Marcus ^milius), acts 
 with M. Antonius, "iff.; gov- 
 ernor of Gallia Narbonensis, 
 49; joins Antonius, (>2 ff.; tri- 
 umvir, l^ff.; consul, 83 ; his 
 doubtful loyalty, 94 ; Africa 
 allotted him by Octavian, 97 ; 
 co-operates with Octavian 
 against Sextus Pompeius, 117 
 ff .; intrigue with Plennius, 
 124 ; rupture with Octavian, 
 124, 125 ; submission and 
 degradation of, 125 ; death of, 
 206 
 
 Li. o, 234 
 
 Livia, 203, 237, 248/:, 322, 330, 
 
 334, 341/'., 353 
 Livy, 242 
 
 Local patriotism, 194 
 Lollius, 271, 302^., 2>2()ff. 
 Lucius Csesar, 252, 320, 325^^., 
 
 330 
 Lugdunum, 171, 257 
 
 M 
 
 Maecenas (Caius Cilnius), nego- 
 tiates with M. Antonius, 108, 
 114 ; represents Octavian in 
 Rome, 119, 121 ; detects con- 
 spiracy of the younger Lepi- 
 dus, 153 ; advice to Augustus, 
 \(i2 ff .; sketch of his career, 
 236 ff .; as patron of litera- 
 ture, 240 ff .; character and 
 death, 245^. 
 
 Manius, 98^., 109 
 
 Marcellus, 249^. 
 
 Mariaba, 280 
 
 Maroboduus, 296, 307^., 313 
 
 Marriage, laws on, 215 _^. 
 
 Mausoleum of Augustus, 344 
 
 Menas, \\i ff., 119 
 
 Menodorus, 109 
 
 Messala, 119, 121, 139, 240, 255 
 
 Messana, 12.2 ff, 
 
 Misenum, treaty of, no 
 
 Moesia, 292 
 
 Murcus, 85 _^., 96, 99 
 
 Mutina, siege and relief of, ^2ff. 
 
 N 
 
 Naulochus, battle in Bay of, 122 
 Nero (Tiberius Claudius), 105 
 Nerva (Cocceius), 107 
 Nicopolis, 144, 274 
 Nola, 341 
 Norbanus, 84-87 
 
 Octavia, 108 jf., 116, 129, 132, 
 
 136, 204 
 Octavian, see Augustus 
 Octavius, see Augustus 
 Order, Augustus's passion for, 
 
 193 
 Ovid, 243, 336/: 
 
 Palatine, 203^. 
 
 Pannonia, Augustus's campaign 
 in, 291 ; Tiberius in, 295 ; 
 revolt in, 2(^6 ff. 
 
 Pansa, 18, 46, S^ff. 
 
 Pantheon, 204 
 
 Parthia, Augustus's policy to- 
 wards, 266-272 
 
 Paterculus (Velleius), the histo- 
 rian, 158, 239, 251, 264, 297, 
 
 333 
 Paulus (Lucius ^milius), 332 
 Pedius (Quintus), 73, 77 
 Perusia, siege of, 103^. 
 Philippi, battles at, 87-92 
 Philippus, 18, 52, 53 
 Phraates, 2bc) ff. 
 Piso (Calpurnius), 172 _^. 
 
Index 
 
 37 
 
 Plancus (Lucius Munatius), 49, 
 
 biff., 66, 74, 80, 83, loi/:, 
 
 137. 170. 204 
 Pliny, 182, 191, 232 
 Plutarch, 89, 147, 149 
 Pollio (Asinius), 49, 67, 74, 99, 
 
 \o\ff, 204, 240, 351 
 Pompeius (Sextus), 83 ff., 99, 
 
 105, 107 if., 112^^., 117-123 
 Praefectures, imperial, 191 ff., 
 
 198 
 Prcefedus Morum, 167 
 Princeps Senatus, 167 jf., \%off,, 
 
 194 /■. 
 
 Pro-consulare Imperium, 170 
 
 Propertius, 134, 240, 246 
 
 Proscription, 77^. 
 
 Provinces, division of, 222; sena- 
 torial, 223 ; imperial, 224 ; 
 administration of, 225 ff. ; 
 benefits to, 231 j^. 
 
 R 
 
 Rhsetia, Drusus's campaign in, 
 
 293/". 
 
 Rhoemetalces, 296^. 
 
 Rome, degeneracy of people of, 
 iggff.j' rebuilding of, io\ ff.; 
 grandeur of, 205 ff .; religion 
 of, 207 ff.; corrupt society, 
 215, 326 ff., 336/"./ decay 
 of martial spirit, 314, 318 
 
 Salvidienus, 84, 99, 101 ff., 109 
 
 Saxa (Decidius), 84-87, 268 
 
 Senate, revision of, 166 ; census 
 
 of, 182 ; reduction in numbers 
 
 of, 182 ; under Augustus, 183 
 
 ff', 194/: 
 Seneca, 181, 213 
 Sestius (Lucius), 176 
 Silanus (Decimus), 336 ff. 
 Siscia, 291, 298 
 
 Spain, Augustus in, I'll, ff.; or- 
 ganisation and Romanisation 
 of, 261-264 
 
 Strabo, 264, 277 
 
 Suetonius, 104, 161, 193, 222, 
 298, 314, 321/:, 333, 346/: 
 
 Sulpicius (Servius), 53 
 
 Syria, 272 
 
 Tacitus, 158 and note, 168, 186, 
 
 232, 245, 333, 337 
 Tarentum, meeting of Antonius 
 
 and Octavian at, 116 
 Tarraco, 172, 263 
 Tauromenium, 120 
 Taurus (Statilius), wi ff., 204 
 Taxation, 12b ff. 
 Theatres, regulations for, 217 j^. 
 Thermusa, 269 
 Thrasea, 230 
 Tiberius, 235, 248, 250^... 270, 
 
 293 ff' , 296/: , 306 ff., /ff., 
 
 320/:, 328/:, 332 if., 338/:, 
 
 341/: 
 Tibullus, 240 
 Tigranes, 268^. 
 Trade routes to the Far East, 
 
 279/". 
 
 Trebonius, 24, 50 
 
 Tribunicia potestas, ill ff. 
 
 Triumvirate, arranged, 75 ; its 
 provisions, 1^ ff.; renewed at 
 Tarentum, 116 ; termination, 
 139 ; its decrees annulled, 169 
 
 Varus, 234, 270, 285, 308^. 
 Ventidius, \o\ff., 129 
 Vetera, 309, 319 
 Vindelicia, 294 
 Vipsania, yioff. 
 Virgil, 208^., 240/; 
 
Heroes of the Nations. 
 
 A Series of biographical studies of the lives and 
 work of a number of representative historical char- 
 acters about whom have gathered the great traditions 
 of the Nations to which they belonged, and who have 
 been accepted, in many instances, as types of the 
 several National ideals. With the life of each 
 typical character will be presented a picture of the 
 National conditions surrounding him during his 
 career. 
 
 The narratives are the work of writers who are 
 recognized authorities on their several subjects, and, 
 while thoroughly trustworthy as history, will present 
 picturesque and dramatic "stories" of the Men and 
 of the events connected with them. 
 
 To the Life of each " Hero" will be given one duo- 
 decimo volume, handsomely printed in large type, 
 provided with maps and adequately illustrated ac- 
 cording to the special requirements of the several 
 subjects. 
 
 Nos. 1-32, each $1.50 
 
 Half leather 1.75 
 
 No. 33 and following Nos., each 
 
 (by mail $1.50, net 1.35) 
 
 Half leather (by mail, $1.75) net 1.60 
 
 For full list of volumes see next page. 
 
HEROES OF THE NATIONS. 
 
 NELSON. By W. Clark Russell. 
 GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS, By C. 
 
 R. L. Fletcher. 
 PERICLES. By Evelyn Abbott. 
 THEODORIC THE GOTH. By 
 
 Thomas Hodgkin. 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. By H. R. 
 
 Fox-Bourne. 
 JULIUS CiESAR. By W. Warde 
 
 Fowler. 
 WYCLIF. By Lewis Sergeant. 
 NAPOLEON. By W. O'Connor 
 
 Morris. 
 HENRY OF NAVARRE. By P. 
 
 F. Willert. 
 CICERO. By J. L. Strachan- 
 
 Davidson. 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. By Noah 
 
 Brooks. 
 PRINCE HENRY (OF PORTU- 
 GAL) THE NAVIGATOR. 
 
 By C. R. Beazley. 
 JULIAN THE PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 By Alice Gardner. 
 LOUIS XIV. By Arthur Hassall. 
 CHARLES XII. By R. Nisbet 
 
 Bain. 
 LORENZO DE' MEDICI. By Ed- 
 ward Armstrong. 
 JEANNE D'ARC. By Mrs. Oli- 
 
 phant. 
 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. By 
 
 Washington Irving. 
 ROBERT THE BRUCE. By Sir 
 
 Herbert Maxwell. 
 
 Lane- 
 
 Head- 
 
 By 
 
 HANNIBAL. By W. O'Connor 
 
 Morris. 
 ULYSSES S. GRANT. By William 
 
 Conant Chtirch. 
 ROBERT E. LEE. By Henry 
 
 Alexander White. 
 THE CID CAMPEADOR. By H. 
 
 Butler Clarke. 
 SALADIN. By Stanley 
 
 Poole. 
 BISMARCK. By J. W. 
 
 lam. 
 ALEXANDER THE GREAT. 
 
 Benjamin I. Wheeler. 
 CHARLEMAGNE. By H. W. C. 
 
 Davis. 
 OLIVER CROMWELL. By 
 
 Charies Firth. 
 RICHELIEU. By James B. Per- 
 
 kins. 
 DANIEL O'CONNELL. By Rob- 
 ert Dunlop. 
 SAINT LOUIS (Louis IX. of 
 
 France). By Frederick Perry. 
 LORD CHATHAM. By Walford 
 
 Davis Green. 
 OWEN GLYNDWR. By Arthur 
 
 G. Bradley. $1.35 net. 
 HENRY V. By Charles L. Kings- 
 ford. $1.35 net. 
 EDWARD I. By Edward Jenks. 
 
 $1.35 net. 
 AUGUSTUS C^SAR. By J. B. 
 
 Firth. $1.35. net. 
 
 Other volumes in preparation are : 
 
 MOLTKE. By Spencer Wilkinson. 
 JUDAS MACCABEUS. By Israel 
 
 Abrahams. 
 SOBIESKI. By F. A. Pollard. 
 ALFRED THE TRUTHTELLER. 
 
 By Frederick Perry. 
 FREDERICK II. By A. L. Smith. 
 
 MARLBOROUGH. By C. W. C. 
 
 Oman. 
 RICHARDTHELION-HEARTED. 
 
 By T. A. Archer. 
 WILLIAM THE SILENT. By 
 
 Ruth Putnam. 
 
 G. 
 
 New York 
 
 P. PUTNAM'S SONS, Publishers, 
 
 London 
 
The Story of the Nations. 
 
 In the story form the current of each National life 
 is distinctly indicated, and its picturesque and note- 
 worthy periods and episodes are presented for the 
 reader in their philosophical relation to each other 
 as well as to universal history. 
 
 It is the plan of the writers of the different volumes 
 to enter into the real life of the peoples, and to bring 
 them before the reader as they actually lived, labored, 
 and struggled — as they studied and wrote, and as 
 they amused themselves. In carrying out this plan, 
 the myths, with which the history of all lands begins, 
 will not be overlooked, though these will be carefully 
 distinguished from the actual history, so far as the 
 labors of the accepted historical authorities have 
 resulted in definite conclusions. 
 
 The subjects of the different volumes have been 
 planned to cover connecting and, as far as possible, 
 consecutive epochs or periods, so that the set when 
 completed will present in a comprehensive narrative 
 the chief events in the great Story of the Nations; 
 but it is, of course, not always practicable to issue 
 the several volumes in their chronological order. 
 
 Nos. 1-61, each $1.50 
 
 Half leather 1.75 
 
 Nos. 62 and following Nos., each (by mail, 1.50 
 
 net 1.3s 
 
 Half leather (by mail, $1.75) net 1.60 
 
 For list of volumes see next page. 
 
THE STORY OF THE NATIONS, 
 
 GREECE. Prof. Jas. A. Harrison. 
 
 ROME. Arthur Gilman. 
 
 THE JEWS. Prof. James K. Hos- 
 
 mer. 
 CHALDEA. Z. A. Ragozin. 
 GERMANY. S. Baring-Gould. 
 NORWAY. Hjalmar H. Boyesen. 
 SPAIN. Rev. E. E. and Susan 
 
 Hale. 
 HUNGARY. Prof. A. Vdmbery. 
 CARTHAGE. Prof. Alfred J. 
 
 Church. 
 THE SARACENS. Arthur Gil- 
 man. 
 THE MOORS IN SPAIN. Stanley 
 
 Lane-Poole. 
 THE NORMANS. Sarah Orne 
 
 Jewett. 
 PERSIA. S. G. W. Benjamin. 
 ANCIENT EGYPT. Prof. Geo. 
 
 Rawlinson. 
 ALEXANDER'S EMPIRE. Prof. 
 
 J. P. Mahaffy. 
 ASSYRIA. Z. A. Ragozin. 
 THE GOTHS. Henry Bradley. 
 IRELAND. Hon. Emily Lawless. 
 TURKEY. Stanley Lane-Poole. 
 MEDIA, BABYLON, AND PER- 
 SIA. Z. A. Ragozin. 
 MEDIAEVAL FRANCE. Prof. Gus- 
 
 tave Masson. 
 HOLLAND. Prof. J. Thorold 
 
 Rogers. 
 MEXICO. Susan Hale. 
 PHOENICIA. George Rawlinson. 
 THE HANSA TOWNS. Helen 
 
 Zimmem. 
 EARLY BRITAIN. Prof. Alfred 
 
 J. Church. 
 THE BARBARY CORSAIRS. 
 
 Stanley Lane-Poole. 
 RUSSIA. W. R. Morfill. 
 THE JEWS UNDER ROME. W. 
 
 D. Morrison. 
 SCOTLAND. John Mackintosh. 
 SWITZERLAND. R. Stead and 
 
 Mrs. A. Hug. 
 PORTUGAL. H. Morse-Stephens. 
 
 THE BYZANTINE EMPIRE. C. 
 
 W. C. Oman. 
 SICILY. E. A. Freeman. 
 THE TUSCAN REPUBLICS. 
 
 Bella Duffy. 
 POLAND. W. R. Morfill. 
 PARTHIA. Geo. RawUnson. 
 JAPAN. David Murray. 
 THE CHRISTIAN RECOVERY 
 
 OF SPAIN. H. E. Watts. 
 AUSTRALASIA. Greville Tregar- 
 
 then. 
 SOUTHERN AFRICA. Geo. M. 
 
 Theal. 
 VENICE. Alethea Wiel. 
 THE CRUSADES. T. S. Archer 
 
 and C. L. Kingsford. 
 VEDIC INDIA. Z. A. Ragozin. 
 BOHEMIA. C. E. Maurice. 
 CANADA. J. G. Bourinot. 
 THE BALKAN STATES. WilUam 
 
 Miller. 
 BRITISH RULE IN INDIA. R. 
 
 W. Frazer. 
 MODERN FRANCE. Andr^ Le 
 
 Bon. 
 THE BRITISH EMPIRE. Alfred 
 
 T. Story. Two vols. 
 THE FRANKS. Lewis Sergeant. 
 THE WEST INDIES. Amos K. 
 
 Fiske. 
 THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 Justin McCarthy, M.P. Two 
 
 vols. 
 AUSTRIA. Sidney Whitman. 
 CHINA. Robt. K. Douglass. 
 MODERN SPAIN. Major Martin 
 
 A. S. Hume. 
 MODERN ITALY. Pietro Orsi. 
 THE THIRTEEN COLONIES. 
 
 Helen A. Smith. Two vols. 
 WALES AND CORNWALL. Owen 
 
 M. Edwards. Net $i.35- 
 MEDIEVAL ROME. Wm. Miller. 
 THE PAPAL MONARCHY. Wm. 
 
 Barry. 
 MEDIEVAL INDIA. Stanley 
 
 Lane-Poole. 
 BUDDHIST INDIA. T. W. Rhys- 
 Davids. 
 
 Xl9 
 

 
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