The presence in this volume of a chapter on the unification of Italy might be thought an oddity. Its inclusion here was a decision taken in consultation with the editors of the new edition of Volume ix, on the ground that the Augustan period is a good standpoint from which to consider a process which cannot really be considered complete before that, and perhaps not fully complete even by the Augustan age. Two of the chapters (those on Egypt and on the development of Roman law) will have counterparts in Volume xii (a.d. 193-337), but not in Volume xi; in both cases the accounts given here are intended to be generally valid for the first two centuries a.d. The treatment of Judaea and of the origins of Christianity posed difficulties of organization and articulation, given the extensive overlap of subject-matter. We nevertheless decided to invite different scholars to write these sections and to juxtapose them. It still seems surprising that the first edition of this volume contains no account of the origins and early growth of Christianity, a phenomenon which is, from the point of view of the subsequent development of civilization, surely the most important single feature of our period. Some degree of overlap with other standard works of reference is inevitable. We have, however, deliberately tried to avoid this in the case of literature by including a chapter which is intended as a history of literary activity in its social context, rather than a history of the literature of the period as such, which can be found in The Cambridge History of Classical Literature, Vols, i and 11.
Each contributor was asked, as far as possible, to provide an account of his or her subject which summarizes the present state of knowledge and (in so far as it exists) orthodoxy, indicating points at which a different view is adopted. It would have been impossible and undesirable to demand uniformity of perspective and the individual chapters, as is proper, reflect a rich variety of approach and viewpoint, Likewise, we have not insisted on uniformity of practice in the use of footnotes, although contributors were asked to avoid long and discursive notes as far as possible. We can only repeat the statement of the editors in their preface to Vol. viii, that the variations reflect the different requirements of the contributors and their subject-material. It will be noted that the bibliographies are much more extensive and complex than in earlier volumes of The Cambridge Ancient History; again a reflection of the greater volume of important work which has been produced on this period in recent years. Most authors have included in the bibliographies, which are keyed by coded references, all, or most, of the secondary works cited in their chapters; others have included in the footnotes some reference to books, articles and, particularly, publications of primary sources which were not considered of sufficient general relevance to be included in the bibliographies. We have let these stand.
Most of the chapters in this volume were written between 1983 and 1988 and we are conscious of the fact that the delay between composition and publication has been much longer than we would have wished. The editors themselves must bear a share of the responsibility for this. The checking of notes and bibliographies, the process of getting typescripts ready for the press has too often been perforce relegated because of the pressure of other commitments. Contributors have, nonetheless, been given the opportunity to update their bibliographies and we hope that they still have confidence in what they wrote.
There are various debts which it is a pleasure to acknowledge. Professor John Crook was involved in the planning of this volume and we are much indebted to his erudition, sagacity and common sense. We very much regret that he did not feel able to maintain his involvement in the editorial process and we are the poorer for it. For the speedy and efficient translation of chapters 14c, 14d and 20 we are indebted, respectively, to Dr G. D. Woolf, Dr J.-P. Wild (who also provided valuable bibliographical guidance) and Edward Champlin. Mr Michael Sharp, of Corpus Christi College, Oxford and Mr Nigel Hope rendered meticulous and much-appreciated assistance with the bibliographies. David Cox drew the maps; the index was compiled by Barbara Hird.
To Pauline Hire and to others at Cambridge University Press involved in the supervision and production of this volume, we offer thanks for patience, good humour and ready assistance.
A.K.B E.J.С A.W.L
CHAPTER 1 THE TRIUMVIRAL PERIOD
CHRISTOPHER PELLING
i. the triumvirate
On 27 November 43, the Lex Titia initiated the period of absolute rule at Rome. Antony, Lepidus and Octavian were charged with 'restoring the state', triumviri rei publicae constituendae\ but they were empowered to make or annul laws without consulting Senate or people, to exercise jurisdiction without any right of appeal, and to nominate magistrates of their choice; and they carved the world into three portions, Cisalpine and Further Gaul for Antony, Narbonensis and Spain for Lepidus, Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica for Octavian. In effect, the three were rulers. Soon there would be two, then one; the Republic was already dead.
Not that, at the time, the permanence of the change could be clear. As Tacitus brings out in the first sentence of the Annals, the roots of absolute power were firmly grounded in the Republic itself: there had been phases of despotism before - Sulla and Caesar, and in some ways Pompey too — and they had passed; the cause of Brutus and Cassius in the East was not at all hopeless. But what was clear was that history and politics had changed, and were changing still. The triumviral period was to be one of the great men feeling their way, unclear how far (for instance) a legion's loyalty could simply be bought, whether the propertied classes or the discontented poor of Rome and Italy could be harnessed as a genuine source of strength, how influential the old families and their patronage remained. At the beginning, there was a case for a quinquevirate, for Plancus and Pollio had played no less crucial a role than Lepidus in the manoeuvrings of mid-43. But Lepidus was included, Plancus and Pollio were not; and Lepidus owed that less to his army than to his clan and connexions. In 43 those seemed to matter; a few years later they were irrelevant, and so was he. Money too was a new, incalculable factor. In 44-43 the promises made to the troops reached new heights; and there was certainly money around — money of Caesar himself; money from the dead dictator's friends, men like Balbus and Matius; money that would be minted in plenty throughout the Roman world — no wonder that so many hoards from the period have been found, some of them vast.1 But would that money ever find its way to the
1 Crawford 1969(8 318) 117-31, 198) (в 320) 252.
i
Map г. Italy and the eastern Mediterranean,
legionaries? They did not know; no one knew. The role of propaganda was also changing. Cicero had been one master of the craft — we should not, for instance, assume that the Philippics were simply aimed at a senatorial audience; they would have force when read in the camps and market-places of Italy. But what constituency was worth making the propagandist's target? The armies, certainly: they were a priority in 4443. But what of the Italians in the municipalities? Could they be won, and would they be decisive? Increasingly, the propaganda in the thirties turned in their direction, and they were duly won for Octavian. But was he wise to make them his priority — did they matter much in the final war? One may doubt it, though they certainly mattered in the ensuing peace. But it was that sort of time. No one knew what sources of strength could be found, or how they would count. The one thing that stood out was that the rules were new.
The difference is even harder for us to gauge than for contemporaries, simply because of our source-material. No longer do we have Cicero's speeches, dialogues and correspondence to illuminate events; instead we have only the sparsest of contemporary literary and epigraphic material, and have to rely on much later narratives - Appian, who took the story down to the death of Sextus Pompeius in his extant Civil Wars (he told of Actium and Alexandria in his lost Egyptian History)-, Cassius Dio, who gave a relatively full account of the triumviral period in Books xlvii-l; and Plutarch's fine Lives of Brutus and Antony. Suetonius too had some useful material in his Augustur, so does Josephus. The source-material used by these authors is seldom clear, though Asinius Pollio evidently influenced the tradition considerably, and so did Livy and the colourful Q. Dellius; but all the later authors may well have used other, more recherche material. Still, all are often demonstrably inaccurate, and there is indeed a heavy element of fiction throughout the tradition. Octavian's contemporary propaganda, doubtless repeated and reinforced in his Autobiography when it appeared during the twenties, spread stories of the excesses and outrages of Antony and Cleopatra; then the later authors, especially Plutarch, elaborated with romance, evincing sometimes more sympathy for the lovers, but scarcely more accuracy. And all these authors naturally concentrated on the principals themselves - Brutus, Cassius, Octavian, Sextus, Antony and Cleopatra. We are given very little idea of what everyday political life in Rome was like, how far the presence of these great men smothered routine activity and debate in the Senate, the courts, the assemblies and the streets. The triumvirs controlled appointments to the consulship and to many of the lower offices, but some elections took place as well; we just do not know how many, or how fiercely and genuinely they were contested.2 The plebs and