As a center of learning, Apollonia could hardly claim to compete with Athens, whose Roman students during this period included the poet Horace and Marcus Tullius Cicero, son of the great Cicero. Marcus junior had gone to Athens in March 45, at the age of twenty, to study with Cratippus of Pergamum, a philosopher of the Peripatetic school who had obtained Roman citizenship, granted by Caesar at the request of his friend and sponsor Cicero Senior.10 Cicero also persuaded the Athenian authorities to invite Cratippus to remain in the city and give instruction there.11 For a certain time, Marcus junior also attended the lectures of a professor of rhetoric named Gorgias, who turned out to be a master of debauchery. Cicero had high hopes for his only son, to whom he dedicated his treatise On Duties, finished in late 44. Marcus junior, though he dutifully devoted himself to the study of Greek, would have preferred a life of action; at a very young age, he had fought at Pharsalus on Pompey’s side, and after Caesar’s victory, he hoped to join the dictator’s forces in Spain.12 Cicero, at considerable personal expense, resolved to remove his bellicose offspring from the temptations of Roman militarism.

  If Apollonia was not renowned as a center of learning, it did enjoy an important strategic position. Situated on marshlands lying between the Adriatic and Ionian Seas, the city was a staging point on the Via Egnatia, the great military road that connected the Adriatic and the Ionian Seas with Thessalonica, passing through a part of the Balkans where decisive battles had long taken place. In the war between Pompey and Caesar, the citizens of Apollonia had cast their lot with the Caesarian camp, thinking to strengthen the city’s prestige by comparison with its rival Dyrrachium (now Durrës, in Albania). Modest though its claim to intellectual preeminence may have been, Apollonia was the ideal place for marshaling troops in transit from the Italian port of Brundisium (Brindisi). Octavius’s studies were no more than an interlude while he awaited Caesar’s arrival and the beginning of the expeditions against the Dacians and then the Parthians. He stayed in Apollonia for only three months.

  On hearing the news of Caesar’s assassination, Octavius went back to Rome. He could not have remained there very long, however, for the army that Caesar had sent to Macedonia had been in place since January under the command of the legate Marcus Acilius Caninus.13 The proconsul of Macedonia was Quintus Hortensius, son of the great orator praised by Cicero, while Illyria was governed by Publius Vatinius, a veteran of the wars in Gaul and the war against Pompey, whom Caesar had put in charge of the operations against the Dalmatians, a group of Illyrian chiefdoms (though one cannot properly speak of a province of Illyricum during this period, military commands similar to proconsulships had nonetheless been set up there).14 In the meantime, Vatinius was losing patience with his commander: In late January 44, writing to Cicero from his base at Narona, Vatinius expressed his displeasure at not being granted a triumph by Caesar, despite everything he had done in Dalmatia.15

  During his stay in Apollonia, Octavius became curious about his horoscope, a rather popular form of astrological forecasting among Roman aristocrats. Just after the Ides of March, Cicero published his treatise On Divination, in which he criticized astrologists who claimed to know the future on the basis of the movements of the stars.16 These savants supplemented the traditional disciplina of the Etruscans with various types of esoteric knowledge. All foreign astrologers during this period (including Egyptians) were referred to as Chaldean, meaning Babylonian, with the result that barbarian wisdom was now seen as an exotic mélange.

  Horoscopes figured prominently in Octavius’s childhood. At the time of his birth, Publius Nigidius Figulus, a senator and a foremost scholar who introduced Chaldean astrology to Rome, predicted that the child would one day rule the world. A few years later, during the campaign against the Bessi, his father Gaius Octavius, the governor of Macedonia in 60, consulted “barbarian oracles” in the “sacred grove of Liber Pater,” perhaps the sanctuary of Perperikon in southern Bulgaria; it was in any case probably associated with the cult of Zagreus, identified by the Greeks with Dionysus.17

  In the matter of his birth chart, Octavius, accompanied by Agrippa, went to the observatory of a local astrologer named Theogenes, who cast the charts of the two young men, presumably with the aid of an astrolabe. For Agrippa, a “great and almost incredible career” was predicted; but when Octavius’s turn came, the astrologist prostrated himself before him.18 Apparently, this story was concocted much later (perhaps around 11 BCE, when Augustus published his horoscope). Be that as it may, Apollonia was the starting point of his long journey to power. The news of Caesar’s death was brought by a freedman sent by Octavius’s mother, Atia.

  Octavius and his friends were about to have dinner. A few of the city’s prominent citizens, though they did not know exactly what had happened, nonetheless suspected that it was a matter of the greatest seriousness and went at once to Octavius’s home.19 They counseled him not to act precipitously, but rather to remain in Apollonia until the situation in Italy became more settled. Agrippa and Salvidienus, however, urged him to march on Rome at the head of an army of veterans at the earliest opportunity.20 The discharge of so many soldiers from Caesar’s campaigns, numbering in the tens of thousands, had created a social problem. Caesar had been careful not to found an undue number of military colonies, preferring to settle veterans throughout Italy and in the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea (though he did establish the colony of Turris Libisonis [Porto Torres] in Sardinia); moreover, he had continued to recruit soldiers until 46.

  Tensions came to a head following his final victory, and the crisis remained unresolved at the time of his death. During these same years, he had granted Roman citizenship to a certain number of foreign soldiers, from Spain and Gaul, with the aim of enlarging and fortifying the circle of Roman loyalties. In view of the mixed character of the population in places where veterans had been relocated, he sought to promote a certain uniformity in the administration of towns and cities by reconstituting municipal institutions.

  Looking to appropriate the charisma of his adoptive father, Octavian (as he was now informally known, pursuant to the terms of Caesar’s will) therefore set out to Italy, where he found men ready to follow him. He later mentioned this decision in the text known in modern scholarship as Res Gestae divi Augusti, which begins with a memorable statement of intent: “At the age of nineteen, on my own responsibility and at my own expense, I raised an army, by means of which I restored liberty to the republic, which had been oppressed by the tyranny of a faction.”21 Before resuming Caesar’s projects, it was necessary not only to equip himself with a private army but also to be assured of a secure base of support at the heart of Roman power.

  His days as a student were now over: he dismissed his tutor Apollodorus and gave up trying to master Greek.22 In the meantime, Brutus and Cassius had obtained an “amnesty” (from the Greek amnēstia [forgetfulness]), promulgated by Mark Antony, one of the consuls that year, for the purpose of avoiding civil war. This measure, which Cicero claimed to have recommended in the first instance, drew upon an “ancient Athenian precedent.” The restoration of democracy in 403 was understood to require all citizens to solemnly agree that “all recollection of disputes should be obliterated and forgotten for all time,” which is to say that political reconciliation should be achieved by means of a general amnesty.23

  Antony, of course, had proposed the measure in exchange for a series of self-serving resolutions. Under the threat of reaction from the people and veterans, the Senate was obliged to ratify all of Caesar’s official acts since, in anticipation of a long absence from Rome, the dictator had already appointed magistrates, priests, provincial governors, and military commanders for the next five years. Antony could rely on the support of a great number of senators, particularly those who had been co-opted or rehabilitated by Caesar, to enlarge the assembly. From the beginning, Antony had no choice but to take the political context into account, recognizing that the “liberty” invoked by the conspirators henceforth mainly concerned the aristocratic class. Moreover, he had to find a way to maintain good relations with the army, which felt itself to be Caesar’s orphan in a sense, having, by acclamation, awarded Caesar the title of imperator (victorious general) for the first time in 60. The authority of conservative senators was limited, however, by their fear of Antony’s consular powers.

  Brutus and Cassius were made to leave Rome. On 5 June 44 the Senate entrusted them with responsibility for supervising the city’s grain supply. Cassius, formerly praetor peregrinus (charged with adjudicating disputes between aliens or between aliens and Roman citizens), was sent to Sicily; Brutus, who had to yield the office of praetor urbanus to Antony’s brother Gaius Antonius, was sent to the province of Asia. Cassius, forty-three years of age when he raised his dagger against Caesar, was an experienced soldier. As quaestor in Crassus’s army, he had survived the disaster of Carrhae, and for two years he had organized the defense of Syria, putting down an insurrection in Judaea, among others.24 In 51 he repulsed the Parthians on their arrival at the gates of Antioch, with the young prince Pacorus at their head, crushing the army commanded by Osaces (Vasak) by employing a stratagem that Frontinus, in the last quarter of the first century CE, saw fit to include in his collection of exemplary military gambits.25 Cicero, who as proconsul in the neighboring province of Cilicia at the time had conducted military operations on the border with Syria, tells us that Osaces was grievously wounded and died a few days later.26 Cassius, seeing himself as a heroic warrior of the Republic, naturally regarded the prospect of working as a provincial grain inspector as an outrage.27

  Brutus, two years younger than Cassius, did not share his martial spirit, but he had other talents. In 53 he had been quaestor in Cilicia, where he was known for a rather cavalier attitude toward financial transactions. In 48, at Pharsalus, he fought under Pompey and was subsequently pardoned by Caesar; the following year, he assisted Caesar in his diplomatic campaigns in the province of Asia, and the year after that, he governed Cisalpine Gaul. In August 45 Brutus and Cassius were both rewarded with provinces, Brutus being put in charge of Crete, with the title of proconsul, while Cassius was put in charge of Cyrenaica. Caesar felt great affection for him, and all the more as he had had an affair with his mother, Servilia, when Brutus was already an adolescent. As he was being stabbed, he asked Brutus (in Greek), “You too, son?”28

  In sum, Octavian was not ready to inherit Caesar’s mantle. Avenging his death remained the principal objective, but it was also necessary to neutralize potential rivals, beginning with Antony, who had managed to take advantage of the opportunity presented by the funeral ceremonies for Caesar, in which his great nephew, still in Apollonia, was unable to take part. This was of little importance, however, since in the meantime Caesar’s will had been unsealed and the Romans informed of the fact that he had adopted Octavius, leaving him a large share of his patrimony. The situation was now dramatically different.

  Antony’s charisma depended, above all, on successfully managing Caesar’s political legacy. The sudden appearance of a young heir on the scene upset all his calculations. Not only did Octavian lay claim to this legacy, he was also determined to diminish Antony’s authority as consul. Antony tried to thwart or counteract Octavian’s attempts, by means of spectacles and by spreading money around, to win popular favor. So long as he could delay testamentary disposition, the patrimony Octavian coveted would not pass to him. Furthermore, as though he intended to present himself as Caesar’s legitimate successor, Antony retained possession of his personal and official documents.

  Once again, the stars—in the event, a particular star—came to Octavian’s aid. The young man who was now beginning to be called “Caesar” profited from a new celestial sign: the passage of an especially brilliant comet, called the Julian star (sidus Iulium), which was to play an important role in the propaganda of the following years. At Rome, the comet appeared between 23 and 25 July during the Ludi Victoriae Caesaris, private games decreed by Caesar in commemoration of his triumph at Pharsalus that his heir had hastened to transform into funeral games; so wondrous an event was undoubtedly welcomed for making it possible to erase the memory of the baleful prodigies that had punctuated the last months of the dictator’s life.

  In general, comets were considered to be unfavorable signs. Pliny the Elder held that they are “terrifying star[s] and not easily expiated.”29 In this particular case, however, the matter was more complicated. The sidus Iulium, represented more than once on Roman coins, was taken to symbolize Caesar’s cosmic kingdom, following the example of Hellenistic kings; somewhat earlier, contrary to Iranian tradition, coins minted under Mithradates VI of Pontic Cappadocia and Tigran of Armenia had borne the image of comets.

  With the opening of Caesar’s will, Octavius’s full name was Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus; ancient authors usually call him Caesar. He disliked the second cognomen, which called attention to his origins; indeed, he never used it himself. Nevertheless I shall continue to call him Octavian, to avoid any confusion with Caesar himself. Antony had succeeded in controlling the situation, but, in spite of his desire to reestablish concordia, he created a climate of terror instead. The Romans, accustomed though they were to overbearing rulers, found the consul’s arrogance excessive. There can be no doubt that he offended conservative sensibilities. Cicero, an adamant adversary, spoke of his “brutality” (immanitas).30 Allegedly, when Antony was Caesar’s magister equitum, he traveled around Italy in a Gaulish war chariot (essedum) alongside his mistress, the mime actress Volumnia Cytheris, a freedwoman.31

  While Antony restructured the system of provincial appointments, ostentatiously affirming his own consular imperium, his armed escort was stationed near those places where the Senate met, in this way intimidating its members and influencing their voting. Directed by lieutenants of disreputable character, his guard was composed without exception of experienced centurions, including in its ranks a section of Ituraean archers, formidable warriors from a region between Lebanon and the Anti-Lebanon whom Cicero, shocked by their presence in the Forum, described as “the most barbarous men of all nations.”32

  Under the Republic this kind of military exoticism was not unusual; barbarian arms decorated the trophies and the homes of victorious commanders. But Antony’s enthusiasm did not stop there. According to Cicero, during a banquet, he ordered the public slaves to flog one of his partisans, the senator Lucius Varius, with leather thongs.33 Cicero considered this episode a manifestation of Antony’s brutality toward his companions in dissipation (the punishment in this case was normally reserved for unworthy soldiers or slaves, or, in the extreme case, misbehaving pupils). A comparison of the relevant passages of the Philippics (fourteen vehement speeches that Cicero delivered against Antony, the first one on 2 September 44) with a fragment from Posidonius suggests that the practice was, if not common, at least not without precedent in the East.34 According to Posidonius, a Parthian king’s “friend” had no place at his table, being made instead to sit like a dog at the feet of the sovereign, who often had him whipped; the wretched courtier, drenched in his own blood, was then obliged to venerate his tormentor as a benefactor.35 Posidonius was bound to consider this reprehensible, by contrast with the honors that Hellenistic kings bestowed on their friends; Roman readers, who hated the Parthians for obvious reasons, could not help but consider such treatment as proof of oriental despotism.

  Varius’s thrashing was very likely a reinterpretation of an ancient Iranian custom, or at least what was taken to be an ancient Iranian custom. In the late Republic, however, not all Romans recognized the allusion. The situation in which Varius—saddled with the eloquent Greek nickname Cotyla, meaning a cup or vessel—found himself was a sort of initiation ceremony associated with the drinking parties that Antony had made an emblem of his ideological program. This aspect of the matter needs to be taken seriously, as evidence of a deeper purpose, rather than minimized, by reducing Varius’s degradation to the level of cruel inebriated jesting. Cicero, in portraying Antony’s senatorial allies as undignified underlings and their master as a drunk addicted to unbridled debauchery, did just this. What Cicero failed to see, willfully or not, is that Antony’s excesses were bound up with his fascination with the exotic, and that he was not alone among the Romans of his time in finding the exotic a source of fascination. Nor was Antony the only “orientalist” of among the statesmen of his generation, and for good reason: A representative of Rome who wished to govern effectively in the East had to apply rules of administration different from the ones sanctioned by Greco-Roman tradition. The Parthian threat having once again upset the equilibrium established by Pompey, it became necessary to devise a less unilateral relationship. Caesar had perfectly understood this, and Antony had no alternative but to continue his policy, by extending it.

  Aristocratic entertainments were a fundamental element of late Republican society, bringing patrons and clients together in an atmosphere of shared tastes and culture. The considerable expense they involved, which a consul could sometimes cover by drawing upon public funds, increased their popularity. Friends and freeloaders filled up the “public” part of Antony’s home, the reception hall, where the mistress of the house, his wife Fulvia (widow in turn of politicians like Publius Clodius Pulcher and Gaius Scribonius Curio), exerted her own very substantial influence. Important matters of state were not infrequently decided on such occasions. Through Fulvia’s intercession, to name one prominent example, ambassadors from Galatia, at a cost of some millions of sesterces, obtained restitution of the possessions of their king, Deiotarus (possibly Deiotarix), tetrarch of the chiefdom of the Tolistobogii. Accused by another Galatian prince of having hatched a plot to kill Caesar, Deiotarus was made to stand trial in Rome, where Cicero, who knew him from the time of his proconsulship in Cilicia in 51–50, pleaded in his defense. Though Deiotarus was not found guilty, Caesar deprived him of Lesser Armenia and a part of Galatia, confiding them respectively to Ariobarzanes III of Cappadocia and Mithridates of Pergamum. Antony reestablished Deiotarus’s power, citing the authority of Caesar’s own maps, which he had kept for himself, and may have falsified, on the pretext that a lex Iulia authorized Deiotarus to reoccupy his territories. In exchange, the consul received a colossal sum that allowed him to repay his outstanding debts. Cicero objected that the transaction had been brokered by Fulvia and tried to discredit the king on the ground that he was determined to occupy these territories militarily.36

 

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