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READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |
OCTAVIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS :THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE FOUNDER OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH, B.C. 63-44
In a house at the eastern corner of the Palatine, called “At the
Oxheads”, on the 23rd of September B.C. 63—some nine weeks before the execution
of the Catilinarian conspirators by Cicero’s order—a child was born destined to
dose the era of civil wars thus inaugurated, to organise the Roman
Empire, and to be its master for forty-four years,
The father of the child was Gaius Octavius, of the
plebeian gens Octavia, and of a
family that had long occupied a high position in the old Volscian town of Velitraer. Two branches of the Octavii were descended from C. Octavius Rufus, quaestor in B.C. 230. The elder branch
had produced five consuls and other Roman magistrates, but of the younger
branch Gaius Octavius, the father of Augustus, was the first to hold curule
office. According to the inscription, afterwards placed by his son in the sacrarium of the palace, he had twice
served as military tribune, had been quaestor, plebeian aedile, iudex quaestionum, and praetor. After the praetorship (B.C. 61)
he governed Macedonia with conspicuous ability and justice. He is quoted by
Cicero as a model administrator of a province; and he was sufficiently
successful against the Bessi and other Thracian
tribes—constant scourges of Macedonia—to be hailed as “imperator” by his soldiers. He, returned to Italy
late in B.C. 59, intending next year to be candidate for the consulship, but
early in B.C. 58 he died suddenly in his villa at Nola, in the same chamber as
that in which his son, seventy-two years later, breathed his last.
The mother of the young Gaius Octavius was Atia, daughter of M. Atius Balbus, of Velitrae, and Iulia,
sister of Gaius Iulius Caesar. This connection with Caesar—already rising in
political importance—may have made his birth of some social interest, but the
ominous circumstances said to have accompanied it are doubtless due to the
curiosity or credulity of the next generation. The people of Velitrae, it is reported, had been told by an oracle that a
master of the Empire was to be born there. Rumours, it is said, were current in
Rome shortly before his birth that a “king of the Roman people” was about to be
born. His mother dreamed strange dreams, and the learned Publius Nigidius prophesied the birth of a lord of the world; while Catulus and Cicero
had visions. But there was, in fact, nothing mysterious or unusual in his
infancy, which was passed with his foster-nurse at Velitrae.
When he was two years old his father, on his way to his province, carried out
successfully an order of the Senate to destroy a band of brigands near Thurii, survivors, it is said, of the followers of
Spartacus and Catiline. In memory of this success his parents gave the boy the
cognomen Thurinus. He never seems to have used the
name, though Suetonius says that he once possessed a bust of the child with
this name inscribed on it in letters that had become almost illegible. He
presented it to Hadrian, who placed it in his private sacrarium.
About B.C. 57 or 56 his mother Atia remarried. Her husband was L. Marcius Philippus (praetor B.C. 60, governor of
Syria B.C. 59-7, Consul B.C. 56); and when in his ninth year Octavius lost his
foster-mother he became a regular member of his stepfather’s household.
Philippus was not a man of much force, but he belonged to the highest society,
and though opposed to Caesar in politics, appears to have managed to keep on
good terms with him. But during his great-nephew’s boyhood Caesar was little at
Rome. Praetor in B.C. 62 he had gone the following year to Spain. He returned
in B.C. 60 to stand for the consulship, and soon after the consulship, early in
B.C. 58, he started for Gaul, from which he did not return to Rome till he came
in arms in B.C. 49. But though occupied during the summers in his famous
campaigns beyond the Alps, he spent most of his winters in Northern Italy—at
Ravenna or Lucca—where he received his partisans and was kept in touch with
home politics, and was probably visited by his
relatives. Just before entering on his consulship he
had formed with Pompey and Crassus the agreement for mutual support known as
the fust Triumvirate. The series of events which broke up this combination and
made civil war inevitable must have been well known to the boy. He must have
been aware that the laurelled despatches of his great-uncle announcing victory
after victory were viewed with secret alarm by many of the nobles who visited
Philippus; and that these men were seeking to secure in Pompey a leader capable
of outshining Caesar in the popular imagination by victories and triumphs of
his own. He was old enough to understand the meaning of the riots of the rival law-breakers, Milo and Clodius,
which drenched Rome in blood. Election after election was interrupted, and,
finally, after the murder of Clodius (January, B.C. 52),
all eyes were fixed on Pompey as the sole hope of peace and order. There was
much talk of naming him dictator, but finally he was created sole consul
(apparently by a decree of the Senate) and remained sole consul till August,
when he held an election and returned his father-in-law, Metellus Scipio, as his colleague.
The upshot of these disorders, therefore, was to give
Pompey a very strong position. He was, in fact, dictator under another name;
and the Optimates hastened to secure him as their champion. A law had been
passed in B.C. 56, by agreement with Caesar, giving Pompey the whole of Spain
as a province for five years after his consulship of B.C. 55. As Caesar’s
government of Gaul terminated at the end of B.C. 49, Pompey would have imperium
and an army when Caesar left his province. He would naturally indeed be in
Spain; but the Senate passed a resolution that it was for the good of the State
that Pompey should remain near Rome. He accordingly governed Spain by three legati, and remained outside the walls of the city with imperium. The great object of the
Optimates was that Caesar should return to Rome a privatus while Pompey was still
there in this unprecedented position. Caesar wished to be consul for B.C. 48.
The Optimates did not openly oppose that wish, but contended that he should lay down his provincial government and military
command first, and come to Rome to make his profession or formal announcement of his being a candidate, in the usual way.
But Caesar declined to walk into this trap. He knew
that if he came home as a privatus there were many ready to prosecute him for his
actions in Gaul, and with Pompey there in command of legions he felt certain
that a verdict inflicting political ruin on him could be obtained. He therefore
stood by the right—secured by a law of B.C. 55, and reinforced by Pompey’s own law in B.C. 52—of standing for the consulship
without coming to Rome, and without giving up his province and army before the
time originally fixed by the law. He would thus not be without imperium for a
single day, but would come to Rome as consul.
Here was a direct issue. Pompey professed to believe
that it could be settled by a decree of the Senate, either forbidding the
holder of the election to receive votes for Caesar in his absence,
or appointing a successor in his province. Caesar, he argued, would of
course obey a Senatus-consultum. But Caesar was on firm
ground in refusing to admit a successor till the term fixed by the law had
expired, and also in claiming that his candidature
should be admitted in his absence—for that too had been granted by a law. If
neither side would yield the only possible solution was war.
Caesar hesitated for some time. He saw no hope of
mollifying his enemies or separating Pompey from them. His daughter Iulia’s
death in B.C. 54 after a few years’ marriage to Pompey had severed a strong tie
between them. The death of Crassus in B.C. 53 had removed, not indeed a man of
much strength of character, but one whose enormous wealth had given him such a
hold on the senators that any strong act on their part, against his wishes, was
difficult. After his death the actual provocations to Caesar had certainly
increased. The depriving him, under the pretext of an impending Parthian war of
two legions which were being kept under arms in Italy; the insult inflicted
upon him by Marcellus (Consul B.C. 51) in flogging a magistrate of his new
colony at Comum, who if the colony were regarded as
legally established would be exempt from such punishment—these and similar
things showed Caesar what he had to expect if he gave up office and army. He
elected therefore to stand on his legal rights.
Legality was on his side, but long prescription was in
favour of the Senate’s claim to the obedience of a magistrate, especially of
the governor of a province. There was therefore a deadlock. Caesar made one
attempt—not perhaps a very sincere one—to remove it. He had won over Gaius
Curio, tribune in B.C. 50, by helping him to discharge his immense debts. Curio therefore, instead of opposing Caesar, as had been
expected, vetoed every proposal for his recall. His tribuneship ended on the
9th of December, B.C. 50, and he immediately started to visit Caesar at
Ravenna. He told him of the inveteracy of his opponents, and urged him to march at once upon Rome. But Caesar determined to justify himself
by offering a peaceful solution—“he was willing to
hand over his province and army to a successor, if Pompey would also give up
Spain and dismiss his armies”. Curio returned to Rome in time for the meeting
of the Senate on the 1st of January, B.C. 49, bringing this despatch from
Caesar.
The majority of the Senate affected to regard it
as an act of rebellion. After a debate, lasting five days, a decree was passed
on January the 7th, ordering Caesar to give up his province and army on a fixed
day, on pain of being declared guilty of treason. This was vetoed by two
tribunes, M. Antonius and Q. Cassius. Refusing, after the usual “remonstrance”,
to withdraw their veto, they were finally expelled and fled to Ariminum, on
their way to joint Caesar at Ravenna. The Senate then passed the Senatus-consultum ultimum, ordering the magistrates and pro-magistrates “to see that the state took no
harm”, and a levy of soldiers—already begun by Pompey— was ordered to be held
in all parts of Italy.
Caesar, informed of this, addressed the single legion which was with him at Ravenna, urging it to support
the violated tribunes. Satisfied with the response to his appeal, he took the
final step of passing the Rubicon and marching to Ariminum, outside his
province. Both sides were now in the wrong, the Senate by forcibly interfering
with the action of the tribunes, Caesar by entering Italy. An attempt,
therefore, was made to effect a compromise. Lucius
Caesar—a distant connection of Iulius—visited him at Ariminum, bringing some
general professions of moderation from Pompey, though it seems without any
definite suggestion.
Caesar, however, so far modified his former offer as
to propose a conference, with the understanding that the levy of troops in
Italy was to be stopped and Pompey was to go to his Spanish province. On
receiving this communication at Capua Pompey and the consuls declined all terms
until Caesar had withdrawn from Ariminum into Gaul; though they intimated,
without mentioning any date, that Pompey would in that case go to Spain. But
the levy of troops was not interrupted; and Caesar’s answer to this was the
triumphant march through Picenum and to Brindisi.
Town after town surrendered, and the garrisons placed in them by Pompey
generally joined the advancing army, till finally a large force, embracing many
men of high rank, surrendered at Corfinium. Caesar had entered Italy with only
one legion, but others were summoned from winter quarters in Cisalpine Gaul,
and by the time he reached Brindisi Pompey had given up all idea of resisting
him in Italy, and within the walls of that town was preparing to cross to
Epirus, whither the consuls with the main body of his troops had already gone.
Caesar had no ships with which to follow him. He was content to hasten his
flight by threatening to block up the harbour. Pompey safely, out of Italy, he
went to Rome to arrange for his regular election into the consulship. Meeting
with opposition there —one of the tribunes, L. Caecilius Metellus, vetoing all proposals in the Senate—he
hastened to Spain to attack the legates of Pompey, stopping on his way to
arrange the siege of Marseilles (which had admitted Ahenobarbus, named
successor of Caesar in Gaul), and sending legati to
secure Sicily, Sardinia, and Africa. Of these the only failure was in Africa,
where Curio was defeated and killed. This province therefore remained in the
hands of the Pompeians; but Caesar’s own successes in
Spain, the fell of Marseilles, and the hold gained upon the corn supplies of
Sicily and Sardinia placed him in a strong position. The constitutional
difficulty was surmounted; he was named Dictator to hold the elections,
returned himself as consul, and, after eleven days in Rome for the Latin games,
embarked at Brindisi on January 3, B.C. 48, to attack Pompey in Epirus.
It is not necessary to follow the events of the next
six months. Caesar had to struggle with great difficulties, for Pompey as
master of the sea had a secure base of Supplies; and therefore, though Caesar
drew vast lines round his camp, he could not starve him out. Pompey, in fact, actually pierced Caesar’s lines and defeated him in more
than one engagement. Eventually, however, Caesar drew him into Thessaly; and
the great victory of Pharsalia (August 9th) made up for everything. Pompey fled
to Egypt, to meet his death on the beach by order of the treacherous young
king; and though Caesar still had weary work to do before Egypt was reduced to
obedience, and then had to traverse Asia Minor to crush Pharnaces of Pontus at Zela, when he set foot once more in
Italy in September, B.C. 47, he had already been created Dictator, and was
practically master of the Roman world.
In these momentous events the young Octavius had taken
no part. At the beginning of B.C. 49 he had been sent away to one of his
ancestral estates in the country. But we cannot suppose him incapable of
understanding their importance or being an
uninterested spectator. His stepfather Philippus was Pompeian in sympathy, but
his close connection with Caesar kept him from taking an active part in the
war, and he was allowed to remain in Italy, probably for the most part in his
Campanian villa. From time to time, however, he came to Rome; and Octavius, who
now lived entirely with him, began to be treated with a distinction natural to
the near relative of the victorious dictator. Soon after the news of Pharsalia
he took the toga virilis, and about the same time was elected to the college of pontifices in the place
of L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, who had fallen in the
battle. This was an office desired by the highest in the land, and the election
of so young a boy, just entering upon his sixteenth year, put him in a position
something like that of a prince of the blood; just as afterwards Augustus
caused his two grandsons to be designated to the consulship, and declared
capable of official employment as soon as they had taken the toga virilis.
The boy, who three years before had made a great
impression by his delivery of the laudatio at his grandmother Iulia’s funeral, again attracted
much attention by his good looks and modesty. He became the fashion; and when
(as was customary for the pontifices) he presided in a praetorian court during
the feria Latina, it was observed to
be more crowded by suitors and their friends than any of the others. It seems
that the rarity of his appearance at Rome added to the interest roused by his
great uncle’s successes. For his mother did hot relax her watchfulness. Though
legally a man he was still carefully guarded. He was required to sleep in the
same simple chamber, to visit the same houses, and to follow the same way of
life as before. Even his religious duties were performed before daylight, to
escape the languishing looks of intriguing beauties. These precautions were
seconded by his own cool and cautious temperament, and the result seems to have
been that he passed through the dangerous stage of adolescence—doubly dangerous
to one now practically a prince—uncontaminated by the grosser vices of Rome.
Stories to the contrary, afterwards spread abroad by his enemies, are of the
most unsubstantial and untrustworthy kind.
But though he seems to have quietly submitted to this
tutelage, he soon conceived an ardent desire to share in the activities of his great-uncle.
Caesar had been very little at Rome since the beginning of the civil war. A few
days in March, B.C. 49, thirteen days in December of the same year, were all
that he had spent in the city. He was absent during the whole of his consulship
(B.C. 48) till September, B.C. 47. On his return from Alexandria in that month,
he stayed barely three months at Rome. On the 19th of December he was at Lilybaeum, on his way to Africa to attack the surviving Pompeians. Octavius longed to go with him, and Caesar was
willing to take him. But his health was not good, and his mother set herself
against it. The Dictator might no doubt have insisted, but he saw that the boy
was not fit to face the fatigues of a campaign. Octavius submitted, quietly
biding his time. He was rewarded by finding himself high in his great-uncle’s
favour when he returned in B.C. 46 after the victory of Thapsus. He was
admitted to share his triple triumph, riding in a
chariot immediately behind that of the imperator, dressed in military uniform
as though he had actually been engaged. He found, moreover, that he had
sufficient interest with Caesar to obtain pardon for the brother of his friend
Agrippa, taken prisoner in the Pompeian army in Africa. This first use of his
influence made a good impression, without weakening his great-uncle’s affection
for him. Though Caesar did not formally adopt him, he treated him openly as his
nearest relation and heir. Octavius rode near him in his triumph, stood by his
side at the sacrifice, took precedence of all the staff or court that
surrounded him, and accompanied him to theatres and banquets. He was soon
besieged by petitions to be laid before Caesar, and showed both tact and good nature in dealing with them. This close connection
with the wise and magnanimous Dictator, inspired him with warm admiration and
affection, which help to explain and excuse the severity with which he
afterwards pursued his murderers.
In order to give him experience of civic duties, one
of the theatres was now put under his charge. But his assiduous attention to
this duty in the hot season brought on a dangerous illness, one of the many
which he encountered during his long life. There was a general feeling of
regret at the prospect of a career of such promise being cut short. Caesar
visited him daily or sent friends to him, insisted on the physicians remaining
constantly at his side, and being informed while at dinner that the boy had
fainted and was in imminent danger, he sprang up from his couch; and without
waiting to change his dining slippers, hurried to his chamber, besought the
physicians in moving terms to do their utmost, and sitting down by the bed
showed the liveliest joy when the patient recovered from his swoon.
Octavius was too weak to accompany the Dictator when
starting for Spain against Pompey’s sons in December B.C. 46. But as soon as he
was sufficiently recovered he determined to follow
him. He refused all company except that of a few select friends and the most
active of his slaves. He would not admit his mother’s wish to go with him. He
had yielded to her before, but he was now resolved to take part in a man’s work
alone. His voyage, early in B.C. 45, proved long and dangerous; and when at
length he landed at Tarraco he found his uncle
already at the extreme south of Spain, somewhere between Cadiz and Gibraltar.
The roads were rendered dangerous by scattered parties of hostile natives, or
outposts of the enemy, and his escort was small. Still, he pushed on with
energy and reached Caesar’s quarters near Calpe, to which he had advanced after
the victory at Munda (March 17th). Gnaeus Pompeius
had fled on board a ship, but was killed when landing for water on the 11th of
April, and it was apparently just about that time that Octavius reached the
camp. Warmly received and highly praised for his energy by the Dictator, he was
at once admitted to his table and close intimacy, during which Caesar learned
still more to appreciate the quickness of his intelligence and the careful
control which he kept over his tongue.
Affairs in Southern Spain having been apparently
settled (though as it proved the danger was by no means over), Octavius
accompanied Cesar to Carthage, to settle questions which had arisen as to the
assignment of land in his new colony. The Dictator was visited there by
deputations from various Greek states, alleging grievances of asking favours.
Octavius was applied to by more than one of them to plead their cause, and had therefore again an opportunity of acquiring
practical experience in the business of imperial government, and in the very
best school.
He preceded Caesar on his return to Rome, and on his
arrival had once more occasion to show his caution and prudence. Among those
who met him in the usual complimentary procession was a young man who had
somehow managed to make himself a popular hero by pretending to be a grandson
of the great Marius. His real name was Amatius or
Herophilus, a veterinary surgeon according to some, but certainly of humble
origin. As Marius had married Caesar’s aunt Iulia, this man was anxious to be
recognised as a cousin by the Dictator. He had in vain applied to Cicero to
undertake his cause, and to Atia and her half-sister
to recognise him. The difficulty for Octavius was that the man was a favourite
of the populace, of whose cause Caesar was the professed champion; yet his
recognition would be offensive to the nobles and a mere concession to clamour.
Octavius avoided the snare by referring the case to Caesar as head of the state
and family, and refusing to receive the would-be
Marius till he had decided.
He did not remain long at Rome however. Caesar returned in September, and was
assassinated in the following March. And during that interval, though he found
time for many schemes of legislation, and of restoration or improvement in the
city, he was much employed in preparing for two expeditions—calculated to last
three years —first against the Daci or Getae on the Danube, and secondly
against the Parthians in Mesopotamia. These were the two points of active
danger in the Empire, and Caesar desired to crown his public services by
securing their peace and safety. For this purpose six
legions were quartered in Macedonia for the winter, in readiness to march along
the Via Egnatia to the eastern coast of Greece.
Returning from Spain Dictator for life, Caesar was to have two “Masters of the
Horse”. One was to be Octavius, who had meanwhile been created a patrician by
the Senate. But for the present he was sent to pass the winter at Apollonia, the Greek colony at the beginning of the Via Egnatia, where he might continue his studies in quiet with
the rhetors and other teachers whom he took with him or found there, and at the
same time might get some military training with the legions that were not far
off. He was accompanied by some of the young men with whom he habitually
associated. Among them were Agrippa and Maecenas, who remained his friends and
ministers to the end of their lives, and Salvidienus Rufus, who almost alone of
his early friends proved unfaithful.
He seems to have led a quiet life at Apollonia,
winning golden opinions in the town and from his teachers for his studious and
regular habits. The admiration and loyalty of his friends were confirmed; and
many of the officers of the legions seem to have made up their minds to regard
him as the best possible successor to the Dictator.
In the sixth month of his residence at Apollonia, in
the afternoon of a March day, a freedman of his mother
arrived with every sign of rapid travel and agitation. He delivered a letter
from Atia, dated the 15th of March. It briefly stated
that the Dictator had just been assassinated in the Senate House. She added
that she “did not know what would happen next; but it was time now for him to
play the man, and to think and act for the best at this terrible crisis.” The
bearer of the letter could tell him nothing else, for he had been despatched
immediately after the murder, and had loitered nowhere on the way; only he felt sure that as the conspirators were
numerous and powerful, all the kinsfolk of the Dictator would be in danger.
This was the last day of Octavius’s youth. From that
hour he had to play a dangerous game with desperate players. He did not yet
know that by the Dictator’s will he had been adopted as his son,
and was heir to the greater part of his vast wealth; but a passionate
desire to avenge him sprang up in his breast, a desire strengthened, with
increasing knowledge, and of which he never lost sight in all the political
complications of the next ten years.
CHAPTER II.THE ROMAN EMPIRE AT THE DEATH OF JULIUS CAESAR
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