In 13 B.C., the state’s two leading men returned to Rome, the princeps from Gaul, Agrippa from the eastern provinces, where he had spent the last three years. Augustus apparently recognized that the burden of empire demanded two co-rulers; Tiberius and Drusus were emerging as effective deputies. When they grew up, little Gaius and Lucius, in whom the genes of Augustus and Agrippa were mingled, would be the final inheritors of the Roman state.
It was an ingenious and ruthless scheme. However, its success would depend on the survival of all the parties; also, on the willingness of Tiberius and Drusus, after years of power and fame, to step aside at the right moment, remaining forever in second place. It would be asking a lot of their generosity, but Augustus was always implacable where the interests of the state and the “divine family” were at stake.
The Theater of Marcellus was finally dedicated by Augustus; the associated festivities included a performance of the Troy Game, an elaborate cavalry display. Boys of good birth joined societies that offered training in horsemanship, and they showed off their prowess in a mock battle between two groups of teenaged riders.
In what was probably his introduction to public life, little Gaius, only seven years old, took part in the game (presumably nominally), and put in an appearance at a theatrical performance. When he entered the theater the audience leaped to its feet and cheered him to the echo, and so Tiberius, who was presiding, let the boy sit next to his grandfather instead of in his designated place. Augustus expressed his annoyance in no uncertain terms, for he did not want the children to be spoiled by public attention they had done nothing to deserve. Later he gave Tiberius a sharp tongue-lashing.
Power was for use, not for ornament. Augustus did not allow Tiberius and Drusus to celebrate even well-deserved triumphs, although they received triumphal insignia (that is, they had the honor of a triumph although none was actually held). In theory, the brothers did not qualify for the honor, for they were not army commanders themselves, but deputies or legati of their stepfather. But a more important principle was at stake. Only the princeps should be a triumphator, for no one else was allowed to rival him for military glory. The last senator to hold a triumph had done so in 19 B.C. Agrippa, the greatest general of the day, loyally held back, refusing to accept three triumphs when offered. However, Tiberius had no cause for resentment: this year he was consul for the first time, at the age of twenty-nine.
Splendid ceremonial aside, some important public business was put in hand. Augustus and Agrippa had their imperium renewed for another five years, and for the first time Agrippa was awarded imperium maius, the overriding authority that allowed him to give orders to provincial governors. This was a momentous event, for it placed him for the first time on completely equal terms with the princeps.
Despite the reforms of the past fifteen years, the Senate was still not working as well as it should. The adoption in 18 B.C. of a million sesterces as the new wealth minimum for membership had had the unintended consequence that qualified men who wished to avoid service were able to plead poverty (not always honestly) and so win exemption from senatorial status. Not enough suitable men were making themselves available for the vigintiviri, the junior administrative jobs that opened a political career.
During his absence from Rome, Augustus had arranged for a decree allowing him to open the vigintiviri to selected equites. Now that he was back in the city, he reviewed the entire membership of the Senate and compelled senatorial malingerers—that is, young men of the senatorial class who possessed the necessary property qualification but tried to conceal it—to take their proper places.
Fighting apathy in the ruling elite was an uphill struggle, and Augustus’ adjustments made little real difference. The great offices of state and senior army appointments gave status to those who held them. But the fact that power was gathered into one man’s hands, not widely distributed as it had been under the Republic, was the real reason that many young men were less interested in a public career than their forebears had been. There was nothing Augustus would or could do about that.
A long-overdue departure at last took place. Self-seeking, self-indulgent old Lepidus had spent a quiet quarter of a century in retirement. Augustus had dropped him as triumvir but left him with his private fortune and his position as pontifex maximus. In 13 B.C. he died, full of years if not of honor.
Now that Lepidus had gone, Augustus succeeded him as pontifex maximus. Finally, he had reached the commanding heights of the Roman religious establishment. He was in a stronger position than ever to accelerate his efforts to restore traditional religious values. Most educated Romans were skeptics and rationalists yet still harbored a belief that Rome’s greatness was in some way due to its piety. If the pax deorum, the goodwill of the gods, were not maintained, then disaster could be just around the corner.
As we have seen, Augustus’ temple building and restoration program was only one aspect of his policy; he also continued to revive lost religious practices, increasing the number of priests and enhancing their privileges. He revived old fellowships, such as the fratres arvales, or “land brothers,” who handled spring ceremonials to promote the crops. Ordinary citizens were catered for with the revival of local cults in the city’s neighborhoods: at ceremonies to propitiate the lares compitales, the spirits of the main crossroads in every ward in the city, their images were garlanded with wreaths of flowers twice a year. The princeps sealed his long-standing popularity with the people by associating these cults with that of his “genius,” the spirit that protected him and his family.
This was as far as Italian opinion would let him go. Julius Caesar had been deified when safely dead, and Augustus knew better than to have himself declared a god in his lifetime. However, elsewhere throughout the empire he encouraged the dual cult of Rome as a goddess and of himself as a godlike being. This gave provincials the opportunity to stage loyalty ceremonies and encouraged an imperial esprit de corps.
It was time to complete stage two of the military strategy. The Alps had been won and two Danube provinces created. But the Pannonian tribes were becoming restive again, and a Roman general led an expedition against them in 14 B.C. Toward the end of the following year, Augustus decided it was time to impose a permanent solution and gave Agrippa overall direction of the war. Although winter had begun, Agrippa embarked on his campaign at once. We have no details, but the Pannonians seem to have quieted down, and Agrippa returned from the Balkans, crossing by sea to Brundisium.
The real reason for his return may have been his health, for in March of 12 B.C., when he arrived in Campania on his way north to the capital, he fell gravely ill. Although at fifty he was still comparatively young, no surviving source has revealed what he was suffering from. Perhaps nobody knew. A fierce Balkan winter may have had something to do with it, and it is reported that in his final years Agrippa suffered unendurable pain from gout. On medical advice, and without informing Augustus, Agrippa took an agonizing course of treatment, plunging his legs into hot vinegar when a paroxysm of the disease was at its worst.
Augustus learned of his colleague’s illness while he was presenting some gladiatorial games in honor of Gaius and Lucius. He immediately set out from Rome, but Agrippa was dead when he arrived. The blow was devastating. The two men had been friends from boyhood, and had shared the astonishing adventure of their lives. Even when their relationship was severely tested, they had remained true to each other. Augustus knew that without Agrippa’s military talent he would have been lucky to have reached his present eminence.