Caesar set in motion a flurry of important social and economic measures, but he was wearying of Rome with its tiresome and self-destructive politics. He had received reports of a conspiracy against his life. If he had ever intended to reform and restore the constitution, he now gave up the attempt. He would leave Rome to its own devices, for power lay wherever he happened to be, not in the Senate House or Forum. He was worried by the growth of a Dacian empire in the untamed region of the southern Danube. The barbarians there needed to be taught a sharp military lesson.
Also, the Parthian empire had been restive since Crassus’ failed invasion of 53 B.C. Once the Dacians were dealt with, Caesar decided to lead a great punitive expedition against it. He began to assemble an army of sixteen legions and ten thousand cavalry; six thousand troops had already crossed over to Greece and, encamped near the city of Apollonia, awaited the launch of the campaign the following March. He expected to be away for three years.
Since the victory in Spain, the Senate had awarded him ever more extravagant honors. Caesar was allowed to add the word imperator, “commander in chief,” to his name as a hereditary addition (until then it had been awarded by soldiers in the field after an important victory); likewise, his son or adopted son was to be designated pontifex maximus on his death. These two heavy hints pointed to the possible establishment of a dynasty, even if no obvious successor existed, or was even on the horizon.
The dictator loved women but begot few children; the only known offspring had been a beloved daughter, Julia, and (one assumes) Caesarion. If he had no legitimate son himself, he would have to find somebody else’s. Adoption was common in Roman life, a strategy for binding clans to one another, as well as for making good genetic deficits. Kinship and loyalty to the familia and gens were valued very highly, but little attention was paid to strict blood ties. Men often adopted the grown sons of others.
Octavius will have pondered these matters. Where, if at all, did he fit into this glorious future? Might he, at some stage, be designated his great-uncle’s heir? These were daydreams. The dictator showed no sign of leaving the stage, and even if he were to do so, Octavius was far too young and inexperienced to step into his giant shoes. If Caesar lived another ten years, and if Octavius proved himself worthy of responsibility, then, just possibly, he might be seen as a potential ruler with all the gravitas and auctoritas such a figure would have to command…. For now, though, Octavius had more immediate matters to engage his attention.
The dictator was burdened with business, but he did not forget his great-nephew. He decided that the boy would accompany him on the great Parthian campaign planned for the next spring. Toward the end of 45 B.C., he sent him to Apollonia. There the young man would spend four months completing his education in literature and public speaking.
He would also undertake training with the army, as it awaited its general and the long march to the east. At last Octavius would acquire some military experience.
V
A BOY WITH A NAME
44 B.C.
The city stood on an extended hill overlooking the river Aous, where the remains of its ancient perimeter walls can still be seen. Today the marble columns of the council chamber, and a street with a central stone pavement on an extended hill overlooking the Aous, are evidence that the place thrived in antiquity. In spring, this part of the site is smothered in wildflowers. Not far away are the foundations of a public bath and a large stoa, or roofed colonnade. A small theater, or odeon, with seats for six hundred, has had its steps restored and is used for modern concerts. A larger theater, seating 7,500, is in a poor state of repair.
The small acropolis at the far end of the city, where a few olive trees grow, gives a spectacular view of the surrounding landscape; originally it housed a temple, probably dedicated to Apollo or his sister, Artemis.
Apollonia, although little remembered today, was what Cicero called a “great and important city.” Founded in the seventh century B.C., for many years it was a place of no very great significance, because it gave access only to the turbulent tribes of Illyria and Macedonia. Italians traveling to Greece or the Middle East found it easier and safer to make their way by sea from Brundisium.
However, Rome needed a fast and reliable connection between Italy and its new provinces, especially for the safe and speedy movement of armies. So in 130 B.C. the Via Egnatia was built. This highway, linked by a loop road to Dyrrachium and Apollonia, transformed the strategic importance of the two ports. It ran along a river into high uplands, skirted two mountain lakes, and descended to a plain near Thessalonica on the seacoast. It then followed the littoral to the small town of Philippi and on to the Hellespont (the Dardanelles).
In late 45 B.C., the eighteen-year-old Gaius Octavius settled into lodgings at Apollonia. He was accompanied by Agrippa and another early friend, Quintus Salvidienus Rufus, who was older than Agrippa and, like him, not of noble blood; also, perhaps, by Maecenas. Little is known of Salvidienus’ origins, but he may have been an officer of Caesar’s. Perhaps Octavius got to know and like him in Spain; in any event, he was one of the small group of intimates on whom he depended.
The young men exercised with squadrons of cavalry. By virtue of his kinship with the dictator, Octavius was of high status, and senior officers used to call on him. He gave everyone a warm welcome and was popular both in the city and in army circles. He was given good reports by his instructors.
Apollonia housed a well-known school for public speaking (or rhetoric), comparable with those at Athens and Rhodes. Octavius studied there, and read Greek and Roman literature. He wanted to become proficient in Greek as well as Latin, and he was an assiduous student. As well as literature, he studied elocution. He brought with him a tutor from Rome, Apollodorus of Pergamum, one of the most celebrated teachers of the day, although a very old man.
The month of March, 44 B.C., would soon be over. The legions were in a high state of readiness. Julius Caesar was expected any day now, and would soon lead them against Parthia.
Then, one afternoon, a messenger arrived with an urgent letter for Octavius, just as he and his companions were going into dinner. A freedman of Octavius’ mother, the man was in a state of high excitement and dismay. No wonder, for Atia had terrible news to tell. Writing on March 15, 44 B.C., she reported that Julius Caesar had been assassinated at Rome before midday by Marcus Brutus, Gaius Cassius Longinus, and others. She asked Octavius to return to her as she had no idea what would happen next. According to Nicolaus, she wrote: “You must show yourself a man now and consider what you ought to do, and implement your plans as fortune and opportunity allow.”
The freedman confirmed the contents of the letter, saying that a large number of people had taken part in the murder, and they intended to hunt down and massacre all Caesar’s relatives.