Augustus (45 page)

People often wrote with a reed quill on sheets of papyrus, using sponges to erase text and clean the quill. When Augustus tried his hand at a tragedy about the Greek hero Ajax, who went mad and killed himself with his sword, he was dissatisfied with the result and destroyed it. When some friends asked: “What in the world has become of Ajax?” he replied: “Ajax has fallen on his sponge!”

Augustus seems to have been slightly dyslexic. Uninterested in correct spelling, as determined by grammarians, he preferred to write words as they were pronounced, and often transposed syllables and letters or omitted them. When he wrote in cipher he used the same very basic code that Julius Caesar did; he simply wrote “B” for “A,” “C” for “B,” and so on (using “AA” for the last letter of the alphabet).

The mornings of
fasti
(lucky) days were devoted to public business: meetings of the Senate (which, in theory at least, could last until sunset but no later), court cases, and religious ceremonies. So the
princeps
would often find himself out and about in central Rome.

Senior Roman officials not only commanded political authority, they also dispensed justice in the courts. Augustus attended assiduously to his legal work, often staying in court until nightfall. If he happened to be unwell, he had his litter carried to the open-air judicial tribunal in the Forum. As a judge, he was conscientious and lenient. He speeded up the legal process, striking off the lists lawsuits that were not promptly pursued. Once he tried a case of parricide, the punishment for which was being sewn up in a sack with a dog, a cockerel, a snake, and a monkey and thrown into a river or the sea. Anxious to save the guilty man from this terrible fate, he asked him: “I take it, of course, that you did not kill your father?”

When appearing in public Augustus liked to present himself as being no more important than any other leading senator. He did his best to avoid leaving or entering Rome in daylight hours because that would have compelled the authorities to give him a formal welcome or send-off. When he was serving as consul, it was inevitable that he was seen in public as he moved from Senate meeting to law court to temple ceremony and sacrifice. He usually walked from one engagement to another through the streets of Rome, although sometimes he was carried about in a closed litter.

Although Augustus was perfectly capable of speaking extempore in public, he was always afraid of saying too much, or too little. So he not only carefully drafted his speeches to the Senate and read them out from a manuscript, but he also wrote down in advance any important statement he planned to make to an individual, and even to Livia (it says something of her own clerical tidy-mindedness that she kept and filed all Augustus’ written communications with her).

Most Romans had lunch, a snack much like breakfast, about midday, but Augustus seldom observed regular mealtimes, eating as and when he felt hungry. “I had some bread and dates while out for my drive today,” he noted in a letter, and informed another correspondent: “On the way back in my litter from the Regia [the “Palace,” a tiny and ancient building in the Forum, the official headquarters of the
pontifex maximus
], I munched an ounce of bread and a few hard-skinned grapes.”

He was a light eater and preferred plain food to gourmet dishes. He especially liked coarse bread. This was made of crushed or ground wheat (if the latter, it often contained bits of grit from the stone mill, which could grind down the eater’s teeth), and could be cooked without leaven or kneading. The resulting loaf was as hard as rock. Other favorite foods were small fishes, hand-pressed moist cheese (probably like today’s Italian ricotta), and green figs.

Augustus drank little alcohol. His limit was a pint of wine-and-water (ancient wine was strong and rich and was almost always diluted); and if he went beyond that he made himself vomit it up. He seldom touched wine before the main meal of the day. Instead he would quench his thirst with a piece of bread dunked in water; or a slice of cucumber or a lettuce heart; or a sour apple, either fresh or dried.

In the afternoon the
princeps
could enjoy some leisure. He used to lie down for a while without taking his clothes or shoes off. He had a blanket spread over him, but left his feet uncovered.

Augustus had learned to pamper his health. He suffered from various minor conditions. Sometimes the forefinger of his right hand became so weak when it was numb and shrunken with the cold that he could hardly write, even when wearing a horn finger-brace. For some years he suffered from bladder pains, but these disappeared after he passed gravel in his urine. He could not tolerate sunlight even in winter; so he always wore a broad-brimmed hat when he was outdoors.

Some seasonal ailments recurred—an expanded diaphragm in early spring and when the sirocco blew, catarrh. He found it hard to endure extremes of heat and cold. He became rheumatic and took the waters at some sulfur springs between Rome and Tibur (today’s Tivoli).

Medical practitioners could do little to cure most disorders, so sensible doctors concentrated their energy on preventive medicine. Celsus advised moderate exercise and cautioned against excess in eating, drinking, and sexual intercourse. Although the last activity may be counted as an exception, it would appear that Augustus adopted this kind of regimen.

“He who has been engaged during the day, whether in domestic or public affairs,” wrote Celsus, “ought to keep some portion of the day for the care of the body.” During the civil wars Augustus took exercise by riding and fencing on the Campus Martius. With the arrival of peace, he used to play catch with two companions, or handball with groups. He soon gave this up and confined himself to riding, or taking a walk at the end of which he would work up a sweat by wrapping himself in a cloak or blanket and sprinting or jumping. Sometimes he went fishing.

On other occasions, especially when the weather was bad, he played dice or marbles with
deliciae
. Augustus was always on the lookout for little boys with pretty faces and cheerful chatter, and he loathed people who were dwarfish or disabled, seeing them as freaks of nature and harbingers of misfortune.

Romans usually took a bath in the afternoon, after exercise and before the main meal of the day, either in their own bathhouse at home if they were rich enough to afford one, or at the public baths, such as Agrippa’s splendid new Thermae. Once again, Augustus’ watchword was moderation in everything. He did not have a full bath too often, and instead was given a rubdown with oil or took a sweat by the fire after which he was doused with water that had been either warmed or allowed to stand in the sun to remove its chill.

Livia awoke at about the same time as her husband and their respective days ran along broadly parallel lines, only intersecting from time to time. In bed she will have been wearing a loincloth, a brassiere or a corset, and a tunic reaching to a little below the knee. When she got up she stepped into some shoes and put on a finely made
stola
or long tunic. Above this she could drape a wrap or mantle (
amictus
).

Fashionable women preferred cotton from India (available since the Parthian entente with Rome) to linen or wool, or silk imported mysteriously from the distant undiscovered Orient. White and black were popular, as well as bright colors such as purple, yellow, and blue. Scarves could be worn, tied at the neck; a
mappa,
or kerchief, dangling from an arm could be used to wipe dust or perspiration from the face.

According to the poet Ovid, Livia was too busy to devote much attention to her appearance.

Don’t suppose you’ll ever catch her

Completely at leisure; she’s scarcely time for her own

Toilet.

However, as a great lady, she was expected to meet a certain standard. She employed numerous dressers (
ornatrices
) as well as staff to look after her wardrobe. One person was responsible for tending her ceremonial garments and accessories. A
calciator
made her shoes. A masseuse (
unctrix
) helped keep her physically in good shape.

Livia was in overall charge of the family’s clothes, but that she personally spent much time at the loom or with the needle may be doubted. Otherwise how were members of staff designated as wool weighers (
lanipendi
) and sewing men and sewing women (
sarcinatores
and
sarcinatrices
) meant to be spending their time? The sculpted busts of Livia that survive show her wearing no jewelry and, despite the fact that she used the services of a
margaritarius,
a pearl setter, it may be that she dressed conservatively and liked to be, in Horace’s famous phrase, “
simplex munditiis
” or “simple in her elegance.”

Like her husband, Livia would not have washed first thing in the morning; however, her hair needed to be dressed. This could take some time and she will have made use of an
ornatrix
. The fashionable hairstyle of wealthy women of Livia’s day had the hair drawn forward from the middle of the head, and then pulled back up into a topknot. On the sides, the hair was taken back in plaits to behind the head. Stray wisps of hair might fall over the forehead and down the nape of the neck.

Roman women used cosmetics, and we may suppose that Livia was no exception. Creams, perfumes, and unguents were widely sold. Makeup for the face consisted of a grease base, often lanolin from unwashed sheep’s wool, mixed on small plates with various colored substances—ocher or dried wine lees for rouge; black from ash or powdered antimony for the eyebrows and around the eyes. Chalk and, dangerously, white lead were applied to the face and arms.

Livia had a robust constitution. Like her husband, she ate sensibly. Late in her life she attributed her good health to the wine she habitually drank; this was a highly select vintage from Pucinum, a rocky promontory in the Gulf of Trieste where a small
castellum
used to stand (and nowadays the Castle of Duino).

Drinking wine was not Livia’s only prescription for longevity. She produced recipes for various ailments, some of which have survived. One of these was for inflammation of the throat and was a concoction of opium, anise, aromatic rush, red cassia, coriander, saffron, cinnamon, and other herbs mixed with Attic honey. Another promised to relieve nervous tensions and included fenugreek, Falernian wine, olive oil, marjoram, and rosemary. This was cooked and strained and mixed with half a pound of wax. It was to be rubbed gently into the body.

Livia’s interest in homemade medicines, employed (it may be guessed) on reluctant relatives and members of her household, could well have contributed to the reputation as a poisoner that she acquired after Marcellus’ death.

How exactly Livia passed her time received little attention from contemporary historians. Although a Roman upper-class woman was free to go out, attend public entertainments, visit temples, and play an active role in high society, she was not expected to have a public career; rather, she was to pursue a vocation of looking after her husband and children. She ran the household while her spouse entered politics, fought wars, and governed provinces. In his absence, she would make sure that all was well on his estates and with his finances. Even more important, she would tend the family’s political connections and, when necessary, pull strings behind the scenes.

Provided she adhered to the rules, an intelligent Roman woman like Livia would have little difficulty in bending them to her purposes. She was well advised to take account of two models of feminine behavior, one to admire and the other to avoid. In the first category was Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi brothers, reformers who lost their lives in struggles with the Senate in the second century
B.C.
Once, when another woman who was a guest in her house showed off her jewelry, the finest in existence at that time, Cornelia kept her in talk until her children came home from school, and then said: “Here are
my
jewels.” When the boys were grown, she helped them in their political careers, and she bore their loss “with a noble and undaunted spirit.”

The alternative paradigm illustrated the grave danger a woman faced if she tried to play too active a part in a man’s world. In the following century, a certain Sempronia, mother of Caesar’s assassin Decimus Junius Brutus, associated herself with the radical politician Lucius Sergius Catilina.

Among their number [women who joined Catilina] was Sempronia, a woman who had committed many crimes that showed her to have the reckless daring of a man. Fortune had favored her abundantly, not only with birth and beauty, but with a good husband and children. Well educated in Greek and Roman literature, she had greater skill in lyre-playing and dancing than there is any need for a respectable woman to acquire, besides many accomplishments such as minister to dissipation. There was nothing that she set a smaller value on than seemliness and chastity, and she was as careless of her reputation as she was of her money.

This is a nearly contemporary assessment of a woman as able and attractive (it would appear) as Cornelia. Lubricity does not sit easily with the roll call of her good qualities, and her sexual history, whatever it may really have been, was evidently a metaphor for political impropriety. Sempronia had stepped out of line and so her personal character had to be blackened.

Livia had no intention of making the same mistake. She kept a low profile, which won her much respect. She took care not to meddle in what her husband saw as his business and turned a blind eye to his sexual liaisons (not a word was ever whispered impugning her chastity). She was completely discreet and kept silent about all she knew. The
princeps,
for his part, respected her intelligence and often consulted her. It is a mark of his respect and affection, we can assume, that he did not divorce her and find another wife who might have borne him a son. Many of his contemporaries would have done precisely that.