THE LAST DAYS
_Let the sound of those he fought for,_
_And the feet of those he wrought for,_
_Echo round his bones for evermore._
[Sidenote: The activities of the last years of Augustus, A.D. 8-14.]
The public and private troubles mentioned in the last chapter did not
break the spirit or paralyse the energies of the aged Emperor, or prevent
him from taking a strenuous part in the administration of the Empire.
The last eight years of his life were full of stir and movement, though
our meagre authorities give us few details. He actively supported the
campaigns of Tiberius and Germanicus; he was introducing reforms in
Gaul;[311] he was pushing on improvements in the East, and founding a
series of colonies in Pisidia as a defence against the predatory mountain
tribes; he was directing a census of the whole Empire; he was emending
his marriage laws by the farther enactments contained in the _lex Papia
Poppæa_, which he supported by energetic speeches; he was elaborating a
great financial scheme; he was personally attending to the embankment of
the Tiber; he was reforming the city police and fire brigades; and when
the Varian disaster occurred we have seen with what energy he acted, how
he enforced the law of military service and despatched reinforcements to
the Rhine, while he cleared the city of dangerous elements and provided
against possible movements in the provinces. Though now seventy-two
years old he shewed no sign of senility in heart; and as it was said
that at every stage of his life he had the beauty appropriate to it, so
in spirit, courage, and prudence he seems always to have answered to any
strain to which he was submitted.
[Sidenote: Financial measures of Augustus.]
To understand the financial changes of these years it is necessary to
recall a few broad facts as to the revenue of the Empire. It arose from
(1) Italy, (2) the provinces. In Italy the sources of revenue were the
customs (_portoria_), the rent of public land, the _vicesima_ or 5 per
cent. on the value of manumitted slaves. From the time that it became
the habit to pay the soldiers, a _tributum_ or property tax had been
raised, at first as a temporary measure, or even as a loan, but gradually
as a regular thing. Since the Macedonian wars, however, B.C. 167, this
_tributum_ had not been levied: the additional wealth acquired by the new
conquests being sufficient. It does not appear that the _tributum_ was
abolished by law, and indeed for a short time it was reimposed by the
Triumvirs, though only as an extraordinary tax (_temerarium_). After the
Social war of B.C. 89 the Italians became full citizens and shared this
exemption.
The second and most important source of revenue were the provinces.
There were royalties on mines, customs, rent of public land, and other
sources of profit to the government; but also every province paid a
_stipendium_—a certain sum of money—to the Roman treasury. The manner
in which it was paid—whether in money or produce, or a mixture of
the two—differed in different provinces, as also did the mode of its
assessment and collection; but the broad fact was that each province had
to furnish a sum of money, and that owners of property in a province
were liable to a _tributum_ or tax.[312]
In the time of Augustus there was no great change made in the nature or
incidence of this taxation; but the management of the treasury itself was
revolutionised. In the first place, the _ærarium_ instead of being under
the care of the yearly elected quæstors, who issued money on the order of
Senate or magistrates, was put under _præfecti_ appointed by the Emperor,
and though the Senate still had a nominal control over it, it was
really under his power. In the next place, a new _ærarium_ was formed,
afterwards called the _fiscus_, into which was paid the revenues of the
imperial provinces. This was entirely under the Emperor, and the tendency
was in time to have every extraordinary revenue, such as confiscations,
lapsed legacies (_caduca_), and the like, paid into it. Besides this
there was the _patrimonium Cæsarum_, the private property of the Emperor
in virtue of his office. To this belonged the whole revenues of Egypt and
the Thracian Chersonese, and other large estates. When Augustus talks of
his having supplemented the treasury or made distributions to the people,
it is often from this fund that he drew, though he had besides large
personal property (_res familiaris_), which he employed at times for the
same purpose.
Of course from the revenue of the provinces had to be deducted the cost
of their administration and defence. Provinces, therefore, which needed
large forces and constant defence from surrounding barbarians did not
pay. Cicero, indeed, asserts that in his time none of the provinces
except Asia paid for their expenses. This probably is an exaggeration,
but there is no doubt that the loss on some had to be put against the
gain on others, and that the balance of the yearly budget was not always
on the right side, as, at a later date, we know that Vespasian said that
the treasury wanted four hundred million sesterces (about £3,000,000
sterling) to be solvent. The outbreak of the German wars in A.D. 4, and
the large forces which it had long been necessary to keep upon the Rhine
had caused, if not a deficit, at any rate the near prospect of one. It
was just such a crisis as in old times would have justified the levying
of a _tributum_ as a special war tax. There were, however, two reasons
against Augustus doing this. In the first place, such a _tributum_ would
be temporary, and he wanted a permanency; and, in the second place, the
citizens had come to view freedom from the _tributum_ as their special
privilege, differentiating Italy from the subject provinces, and marking
them out as a governing body. True to his policy of avoiding offensive
names, while at the same time getting what he wanted, Augustus decided
against the _tributum_. What he did was to create a new department, an
army-pay treasury (_aes militare_), with two præfects of prætorian rank.
The money in this treasury was to be devoted to the pay and pensions
of the soldiers. He started it with a gift in his own name and that of
Tiberius of 170,000,000 sesterces (about £1,500,000), and arranged that
the tax which he had contrived soon after the end of the civil wars, the
1 per cent. on goods sold at auctions or by contract, should be paid
into it. But this was not sufficient for the purpose, and he had to
look round for other means of raising revenue. He did therefore what a
late Chancellor of the Exchequer did for us—he imposed death duties: 5
per cent. on all legacies except those from the nearest relatives. This
avoided the offensiveness of depriving the people of Italy of a valued
privilege, while it in fact brought them financially almost in a line
with the provinces. For those who paid _tributum_ did not pay _vicesima_,
and _vice versâ_. Still the tax offended a powerful class and met with
much resistance. The practice of leaving large legacies to friends, as
an acknowledgment of services rendered, was common in Italy, and the tax
therefore fell heavily upon the rich. In A.D. 13 a determined move was
made in the Senate to obtain its abolition. Augustus sent a written
communication to the Senate, pointing out that the money was necessary,
but asking them to contrive some other method of raising it. The Senators
declined to formulate any plan, and only answered that they were ready
to submit to _anything_ else. Thereupon Augustus proposed a _tributum_
or tax on land and houses. Confronted with this alternative the Senate
at once withdrew from opposition. It was a case of financial necessity,
and it must not be supposed that Augustus wished to lower the prestige
of Italy or the value of the citizenship. That was one of the points in
which he reversed the policy of Iulius, who had been lavish in bestowing
the citizenship, and seems to have had visions of a uniform Empire united
in privilege as in government. Augustus, on the other hand, was even
ultra-conservative and ultra-Roman in this respect. He made constant
difficulties about granting the citizenship. In answer to Tiberius, who
begged it for some favourite Greek, he insisted upon only granting it if
the man appeared personally and convinced him of the soundness of his
claim. Even Livia met with a refusal in behalf of some Gaul. The Emperor
offered to grant the man immunity from tribute, saying that he cared less
about a loss to his treasury than for vulgarising the citizenship.
[Sidenote: Declining health and strength.]
Though Augustus shewed in this transaction all his old tact and
statesmanship with no failure either in determination or power of
_finesse_, yet he was growing visibly feebler in body. He gave up
attending social functions; and it was too much for him to appear any
longer at meetings of the Senate. Accordingly, instead of the half-yearly
committee of twenty-five members who used to be appointed to prepare
measures for the House, a sort of inner cabinet of twenty members
appointed for a year—with any members of his family whom he chose—met
at his house and often round the couch on which he was reclining, and
their decisions were given the force of a _Senatus-consultum_. His
interest, however, in every detail was as keen as ever. For instance,
we have a letter from him to Livia, written at the end of A.D. 11,
as to the advisability of allowing Claudius (the future Emperor) to
appear in Rome during the ceremonies connected with the consulship of
his brother Germanicus. Claudius (now twenty-one) was reported to be
deformed and half-witted, and his mother Antonia herself described him as
scarcely human (_monstrum hominis_). The letter is worth reading, partly
because it is the only complete one (at any rate, of any length) which
we possess, and partly because it illustrates the care which Augustus
took to keep up the prestige of the imperial family, to avoid, above all
things, incurring popular ridicule, and his attention to minute details:—
“I have consulted with Tiberius, as you desired me to do, my dear Livia,
as to what is to be done about your grandson (Claudius) Tiberius. We
entirely agree in thinking that we must settle once for all what line we
are to take in regard to him. For if he is sound and, to use a common
expression, has all his wits about him, what possible reason can there
be for our doubting that he ought to be promoted through the same grades
and steps as his brother? But if we find that he is deficient, and so
deranged in mind and body as to be unfit for society, we must not give
people accustomed to scoff and sneer at such things a handle for casting
ridicule both on him and on us. The fact is that we shall always be in
a state of agitation if we stop to consider every detail as it occurs,
without having made up our minds whether to think him capable of holding
offices or not. On the present occasion, however, in regard to the point
on which you consult me, I do not object to his having charge of the
triclinium of the priests at the games of Mars if he will submit to
receive instructions from his relative, the son of Silanus, to prevent
his doing anything to make people stare or laugh. We agree that he is not
to be in the imperial box at the Circus. For he will be in full view of
everybody and be conspicuous. We agree that he is not to go to the Alban
Mount or to be in Rome on the days of the Latin festival. For if he is
good enough to be in his brother’s train to the mountain, why should
he not be honorary city prefect? Those are the decisions at which we
arrived, my dear Livia, and we wish them to be settled once for all to
prevent our wavering between hope and fear. You are at liberty, if you
choose, to give Antonia this part of my letter to read.”
[Sidenote: Confidence in Tiberius.]
Perhaps the voice is the voice of Tiberius, but the courtesy and
well-bred style are all Augustus’s. By this time the influence of
Tiberius was well established, and Augustus treats him as a successor who
has a right to be consulted on all family matters and important State
affairs. Since his return from Rhodes Tiberius had done eminent service
to the State both on the Rhine and in Illyricum. In appointing Varus
to Germany Augustus had made a mistake which he seldom committed. He
had nearly always picked good men, but P. Quintilius Varus had not only
been extortionate in his former province, but was neither energetic nor
prudent; and his experience among the unwarlike inhabitants of Syria was
not a good preparation for dealing with the brave and warlike Germans.
Tiberius knew him well, having been his colleague in the consulship of
B.C. 13, and would certainly not have appointed him. It was to Tiberius
that the Emperor then turned to retrieve the disaster and confront the
almost more serious dangers in Illyricum. And if he found him trustworthy
in the field, this letter shows how much confidence he felt in him
at home. It was a common report that Augustus knew and disliked his
character. The lackeys of the palace gave out that he had on one occasion
exclaimed, “Unhappy people of Rome who will some day be the victims of
those slow grinders!” And in a speech to the Senate some expressions
used by him were taken to convey an apology for his reserved and sullen
manners, and an acknowledgment, therefore, of his mistrust or dislike.
But it is abundantly plain that in these last years he not only trusted
his military abilities, but felt a sincere affection for himself. In
earlier times, before the retreat to Rhodes, the short notes written
to him (parts of which are preserved by Suetonius[313]) are playful
and intimate; and though he was vexed at his retirement and answered a
suggestion of return by a message bidding him “dismiss all concern for
his relatives, whom he had abandoned with such excessive eagerness,”[314]
yet the fragments preserved of the Emperor’s letters to him in these
later times breathe not only admiration, but warm affection. “Goodbye,
Tiberius, most delightful of men! Success to you in the field, you who
serve the Muses as well as me! Most delightful of men, and, as I hope
to be happy, bravest of heroes and steadiest of generals!” And again:
“How splendidly managed are your summer quarters! I am decidedly of
opinion that, in the face of so many untoward circumstances and such
demoralisation of the troops, no one could have borne himself with
greater prudence than you are doing! The officers now at Rome who have
served with you all confess that the verse might have been written for
you, ‘One man by vigilance restored the State.’” Once more: “Whenever
anything occurs that calls for more than usually earnest thought or that
stirs my spleen, what I miss most, by heaven, is my dear Tiberius, and
that passage of Homer always occurs to me—
“‘If he but follow, e’en from burning fire
We both shall back return, so wise is he!’”
And in the midst of his laborious campaign the Emperor writes to him
anxiously: “When I hear or read that you are worn out by the protracted
nature of your labours, heaven confound me if I do not shudder in every
limb; and I beseech you to spare yourself, lest if we hear of your being
ill your mother and I should expire and the Roman people run the risk of
losing their empire. It doesn’t matter a bit whether I am well or not as
long as you are not well. I pray the gods to preserve you to us and to
suffer you to be well now and always, unless they abhor the Roman people.”
These letters seem sufficiently to refute the idle stories of the _gêne_
that his presence was to Augustus, of his being a wet blanket to cheerful
conversation, and a makeshift with which the Emperor was forced to put
up in default of better heirs. Nor did Tiberius fall short in respect
and loyal service. After his adoption in A.D. 4, he immediately accepted
the position of a son under the _patria potestas_, abstained from
manumissions and other acts of a man who was _sui iuris_, and apparently
transferred his residence to the palace, and seems really to have taken
the burden from shoulders no longer strong enough to bear it.
[Sidenote: Death of Augustus at Nola, August 19, A.D. 14.]
For now the end was near, portended as the pious or credulous believed
by many omens. There was an eclipse of the sun,[315] and various fiery
meteors in the sky. On one of his statues the letter C of Cæsar was
melted by lightning, and the augurs prophesied, or afterwards invented
the prediction, that he would die within a hundred days and join the
gods—_æsar_ being good Etruscan for “divinities.” He himself seems to
have been made somewhat nervous by certain accidents that might be
twisted into omens. The early part of A.D. 14 was taken up with the
usual legal business, but also with the Census, which he held this year
in virtue of his consular power and with Tiberius as his colleague. The
organisation of the city into _vici_ probably made the actual clerical
work easy and rapid, but when that was over came the ceremony of “closing
the lustrum” (_condere lustrum_), and the offering of solemn sacrifice
and prayer. This took place in the Campus Martius, and large crowds
assembled to witness it. But the Emperor, uneasy at something which
he thought ominous, or perhaps really feeling unwell, would not read
the solemn vows, which according to custom had been written out and
were now put into his hands. He said that he should not live to fulfil
them and handed them over to Tiberius to read. After this ceremony was
over, Augustus was anxious to get away from Rome and take his usual
yachting tour along the Latin and Campanian coast. On this occasion he
had the farther object of accompanying Tiberius as far as Beneventum
on the Appian road, on his way to Brundisium and Illyricum, where some
difficulties resulting from the recent war required his presence and
authority. But various legal causes awaiting decision detained the
Emperor in the city. He was restive and impatient at the delay, and
petulantly exclaimed that “if they let everything stop them he should
never be at Rome again.” At length, however, he set out, accompanied
by Livia and Tiberius and a numerous court. They reached the coast at
Astura, in the delta of a river of the same name, which falls into the
sea at the southern point of the bay of Antium. It was a quiet place
though there were seaside villas near, and there Cicero had spent the
months of his mourning for Tullia, finding consolation in the solitude
of the woods which skirt the side of the stream. At Astura the party
embarked, but owing to the state of the wind they did so by night. A
chill then caught brought on diarrhœa, and laid the foundation of his
fatal illness. Nevertheless the voyage along the Campanian coast and the
adjacent islands was continued till they reached Capreæ. It was on this
voyage that, happening to touch at Puteoli, he was so much delighted and
cheered by the thanks offered him by the crew of an Alexandrian corn-ship
for his safeguarding of the seas. At Capreæ he seems to have stayed some
time, amusing himself by watching the young athletes training for the
Greek games at Naples—the only town in Italy except Rhegium which at this
time retained any traces of Hellenic customs and life. He gave parties,
also, at which he asked his Roman guests to dress in Greek fashion and
speak Greek, and the Greeks to use Roman dress and speak Latin. There
was the usual distribution of presents, and on one occasion he gave
a banquet to the athletes in training, and watched them after dinner
pelting each other with apples and other parts of the dessert. It was a
custom, more honoured in the breach than in the observance, with which he
was familiar. He once entertained a certain Curtius, who prided himself
on his taste in cookery, and who thought a fat thrush that had been put
before him was ill-done. “May I despatch it?” he said to the Emperor. “Of
course,” was the reply; upon which he threw it out of the window. On this
occasion the aged Emperor, feeling, we may suppose, somewhat better and
glad to be away from the cares of State, enjoyed this curious horse-play.
He was also particularly cheerful during these days at Capreæ, pleasing
himself with inventing Greek verses and then defying one of Tiberius’
favourite astrologers to name the play from which they came.
Before long, however, he crossed to Naples, with his illness still upon
him, but with alternate rallies and relapses. At Naples he had to sit
through some long gymnastic contests that were held every fifth year
in his honour. Such a function in an August day at Naples would have
been trying to the most vigorous and healthy, but for a man in his
seventy-sixth year, and suffering from such a complaint, it must have
been deadly. He preferred, however, not to disappoint people eager to
shew him honour. He then fulfilled his purpose of accompanying Tiberius
to Beneventum, and having taken leave of him there turned back towards
Naples. But he was never to reach it. At Nola, about eighteen English
miles short of that town, his illness became so acute that he was obliged
to stop at the villa there in which his father had died seventy-two
years before. Messengers were hastily sent to recall Tiberius. With
him the dying man had a long private conversation, in which he seems
to have imparted to him his wishes and counsels as to the government;
and perhaps it was now that he pointed out the three nobles who were
possible candidates for the succession—“Marcus Lepidus, who was fit for
it, but would not care to take it; Asinius Gallus, who would desire it,
but was unfit; and L. Arruntius, who was not unfit for it and would have
the courage to seize it if opportunity offered.” But this conference over
he busied himself with no other affairs of State. He seemed to acquiesce
in the fact that he had done with the world, its vexations and problems.
On the last day of his life, the 19th of August (his lucky month!) the
only question which he continually repeated was whether his situation
was causing any commotion out of doors. Then he asked for a mirror
and directed his attendants to arrange his hair and close his already
relaxing jaws, that he might not shock beholders by the ghastliness of
his appearance. Then his friends were admitted to say goodbye. With a
pathetic mixture of playfulness and sadness he asked them whether “they
thought that he had played life’s farce fairly well?” quoting a common
tag at the end of plays:—
“If aught of good our sport had, clap your hands,
And send us, gentles all, with joy away.”
These being dismissed, he turned to Livia and asked for news of one of
her granddaughters who was ill; but even as he spoke he felt the end was
come—“Livia, don’t forget our wedded life, goodbye!” And as he tried to
kiss her lips he fell back dead.
It was a rapid and painless end, for which he had so often hoped, an
_euthanasia_ that he used to pray for, for himself and his friends. Up
to the last his mind had been clear, with only the slightest occasional
wandering. And so after long years of work and struggle, of mixed evil
and good, of stern cruelties and beneficent exertion, of desperate
dangers and well-earned honours, the great Emperor as he lay dying looked
into the eyes which he had loved best in the world.
The body was borne to Rome by the municipal magistrates of the several
towns along the road, the _cortège_ always moving by night because of the
heat, and the bier being deposited in the court-house of each town till
it reached Bovillæ, twelve miles from Rome. There a procession of Roman
knights took it in charge, having obtained that honour from the consuls,
conducted it to Rome, and deposited it in the vestibule of his own house
on the Palatine.
With not unnatural or unpardonable emotion some extravagant proposals
were made in the Senate as to funeral honours and general mourning. But
Tiberius disliked such excesses, and the funeral though stately was
simple. The bier was carried on the shoulders of Senators to the Campus.
Twice the _cortège_ stopped, first at the Rostra, where Drusus, the son
of Tiberius, delivered a funeral oration (_laudatio_), and again at the
front of the temple of Iulius, where Tiberius himself read a panegyric.
Drusus had dwelt chiefly on his private virtues, Tiberius confined
himself to his public work. He began with a reference to his youthful
services to the state immediately after the death of Cæsar; his success
in putting an end to the civil wars, and his clemency after them. He
spoke of the skill with which, while splendidly rewarding his ministers,
he yet prevented them from gaining a power detrimental to the state; of
his disinterested and constitutional conduct when, having everything in
his hands, he yet shared the power with the people and Senate; of his
unselfishness in the division of the provinces in taking the difficult
ones upon himself; of his equity in leaving Senate and constitution
independent; of his economy and liberality; of the good order which
he kept and the wholesome laws which he carried; of his sympathy with
the tastes and enjoyments of the people; of his hatred of flattery and
tolerance of free speech. The address was read and had been carefully
composed. There is not much fervour or eloquence in it, but it skilfully
put the points which Augustus would himself have put, and indeed had put
in that _apologia pro vita sua_ which we know from the inscription at
Ancyra.
The speeches over, the _cortège_ moved on to the Campus Martius,
where the body was burnt on the pyre prepared for it, and the ashes
ceremoniously collected by eminent equites, who according to custom wore
only their tunics, without the toga, ungirdled, and with bare feet.
The urn was then deposited in the Mausoleum which Augustus had himself
erected in B.C. 28 on the Campus close to the curving river-bank, which
had already received the ashes of his nephew Marcellus, of his sister
Octavia, of his two grandsons, and of his great friend and minister
Agrippa, but was sternly closed by his will to his erring daughter and
granddaughter.
[Sidenote: His will, and other documents left by him.]
Always careful and businesslike, he left his testamentary dispositions
and the accounts of his administration in perfect order. His will,
which had been deposited with the Vestal Virgins and was now read aloud
by Drusus in the Senate, made Tiberius heir to two-thirds, Livia to
one-third of his private property. In case of their predeceasing him it
was to be divided between Drusus (son of Tiberius), Germanicus, and his
three sons, as “second heirs.” There were liberal legacies to citizens
and soldiers and to various friends. The property thus disposed of was
the _res familiaris_: the _Patrimonium Cæsarum_—Egypt, the Thracian
Chersonese, and other estates—went to his successor in the principate.
The will contained an apology for the smallness of the amount thus coming
to his heirs (150,000,000 sesterces or about £1,200,000) on the plea that
he had devoted to the public service nearly all the vast legacies which
had fallen to him. By the will Livia was also adopted into the Iulian
_gens_ and was to take his name. She was thenceforth therefore known as
Iulia Augusta, and seems to have assumed that thereby she obtained a
certain share in the imperial prerogatives, a claim which led to much
friction between herself and her son.
Besides the will, and a roll containing directions as to his funeral,
there were two other documents drawn up by Augustus with great care.
One was a _breviarium totius imperii_, an exact account of the state of
the Empire, the number of soldiers under colours, the amount of money
in the treasury or the _fiscus_, the arrears due, and the names of
those freedmen who were to be held responsible. As a kind of appendix
to this were some maxims of state which he wished to impress upon his
successor: such as, not to extend the citizenship too widely, but to
maintain the distinction between Roman and subject; to select able men
for administrative duties, but not to allow them to become too powerful
or think themselves indispensable; and not to extend the frontiers of the
Empire.
A third roll contained a statement of his own services and achievements
(_index rerum a se gestarum_). Meant to be preserved as an inscription,
it is in what we might call the telegraphic style, a series of brief
statements of facts without note or comment beyond the suggestiveness of
a word here and there designedly used. Yet it is essentially a defence
of his life and policy—the oldest extant autobiography. He directed it
to be engraved on bronze columns and set up outside the Mausoleum. This
was no doubt done, but the bronze columns have long ago disappeared.[316]
Fortunately, however, copies of the inscription were engraved elsewhere
(with a Greek translation) in temples of “Rome and Augustus,” as at
Apollonia in Pisidia and Ancyra in Galatia. That at Ancyra (_Angora_)
exists nearly complete to this day, and some portions at Apollonia. No
life of Augustus could be complete without this document, which is
therefore given in an English dress at the end of this book.
The Senate at once proceeded to decree divine honours to him. A temple
was to be built at Rome, which was afterwards consecrated by Livia and
Tiberius. Others were erected elsewhere, and the house at Nola in which
he died was consecrated. His image on a gilded couch was placed in the
temple of Mars, and festivals (_Augustalia_) were established with a
college of Augustales to maintain them in all parts of the Empire, as
well as an annual festival on the Palatine which continued to be held by
succeeding Emperors.
[Sidenote: Rumours as to the death of Augustus.]
The usual foolish rumours followed his death. Some said that Tiberius
did not reach Nola in time to see him alive; that he had died some
time before, but that Livia closed the doors and concealed the truth.
Others even said that his death had been hastened by Livia by means of
a poisoned fig; and professed to explain it by a piece of secret court
history. Shortly before his death, they said, Augustus had gone attended
only by Fabius Maximus on a secret visit to Agrippa Postumus in the
island of Planasia, to which he had been confined since the cancelling
of his adoption in A.D. 5; and that Livia fearing that he would relent
towards him and name him as successor, determined that he should not live
to do so, Fabius Maximus having meanwhile died suddenly and somewhat
mysteriously. But the authentic accounts of his last illness and death
give the lie to such an unnecessary crime. Unhappily the jealousy of
the unfortunate Agrippa Postumus was a fact which helped to spread such
stories, but it was a jealousy roused by the knowledge of some secret
plots to carry him off and set him up as a rival, and “the first crime
of the new reign”—his assassination by his guards—must, we fear, lie at
the door of either Tiberius or Livia. Another report was that the soul of
Augustus flew up to heaven in the shape of an eagle that rose from his
pyre. Nor must the ingenious Senator—Numerius Atticus—be omitted, who
declared on oath that he had seen the soul of the Emperor ascending, and
was said to have received a present of 25,000 denarii (about £1,000) from
Livia in acknowledgment of this loyal clearness of vision.
[Sidenote: The continuous government.]
The prudent forethought of Augustus in regard to the succession answered
its purpose. There was practically no break in the government. Tiberius
was possessed of _tribunicia potestas_, which enabled him to summon and
consult the Senate. He also, in virtue of his proconsular imperium,
gave the watchword to the prætorian guard, and despatched orders to the
legions in service in the provinces. There was, indeed, some question
as to whether this imperium legally terminated with the death of the
_princeps_, but the matter was settled by all classes taking the oath
(_sacramentum_) to him, and all the powers and honours (except the title
of _pater patriæ_, which he would not accept) were shortly afterwards
voted to him in the Senate and confirmed by a _lex_. His professed
reluctance to accept the whole burden only brought out more clearly how
the work of Augustus had made the rule of a single man inevitable: “I
ask you, sir, which part of the government you wish to have committed
to you?” said Asinius Gallus. No answer was possible. A man could not
control the provinces without command of the army. But he could not
control the army if another man controlled the exchequer. He could not
keep order in Rome and Italy, if another had command of all the legions
and fleets abroad, and could at any moment invade the country or starve
it out by stopping the corn-ships. And if a man had the full control of
the purse and the sword, the rest followed. It was well enough for the
officials to have the old titles and perform some of the old work, but if
the central authority were once removed there would be chaos. The Senate
had attempted to exercise that central authority and failed. It could not
secure the loyalty of men who, exercising undisturbed power in distant
lands, soon grew impatient of the control of a body of mixed elements
and divergent views, which they often conceived to be under the influence
of cliques inimical to themselves. The provinces too as they became
more Romanised were certain to claim to be put on a more equal status
with Italy: they could only be held together by a man who had equal
authority everywhere, never by a local town council. Augustus, indeed,
did not realise this development, or rather he feared its advent. In his
eyes Rome ought still to rule, but could only do so by all its powers
being centred in one man, who could consult the interest and attract the
reverence of all parts of the Empire alike. The success of this plan
depended, of course, on the character of the man, and perhaps, above all,
on his abilities as a financier; but, at any rate, it was impossible
to return to a system of divided functions, and constitutional checks,
which were shewn to be inoperative the moment a magistrate drew the sword
and defied them. So far the work of Augustus stood, and admitted of no
reaction. Republican ideals could only be entertained as pious opinions,
not more practical than some of the republican virtues, on the belief in
which they were founded.