Augustus_ The Life of Rome's First Emperor - Anthony Everitt [130]
Almost certainly the young man was one of the many Romans who succumbed to the epidemic sweeping through the city, but soon rumors were put about of foul play. It was whispered that Livia had poisoned him because he had been preferred to her sons for the succession. If true this would have been an ill-judged move, for in the following year Augustus arranged for his daughter, Julia, Marcellus’ widow, to marry Agrippa, a formidable alliance likely to produce dynastic progeny.
The main victim of this arrangement was Octavia’s daughter, Marcella, who was divorced from her husband, Agrippa, to make room for her first cousin. In the regime’s innermost circles, no room was left for sentiment, and the Julian family’s women were disposed of according to the political imperative of the hour. Apparently the princeps took the decision on the advice of Maecenas, who told him, “You have made him [Agrippa] so powerful that he must either become your son-in-law, or be killed.”
Livia’s reputation for murderous scheming, once acquired, proved impossible to expunge. This was partly because in the ancient world (as in the magical world of the fairy tale) stepmothers were expected to behave badly. The great Greek tragedian Aeschylus described a reef in the sea as a “stepmother to ships.” Women, living as they did in a male-dominated society, must have felt that they could only protect their futures by advancing their sons’ interests. Enough of them lived up to the stereotype, persecuting the children of their husband’s first marriage, that fathers sometimes had their children adopted and brought up in another family.
Although Augustus never formally adopted Marcellus, he had treated him as an honorary son, so Livia found herself cast as a stepmother, with all the ugly connotations that that status entailed. There is no evidence that she acted in any way improperly, although it is legitimate to assume that she would do her best for her own boys. Augustus and Octavia were kind to children to whom they were not related by blood—notably, Antony’s offspring by Fulvia and Cleopatra; it is hard to imagine them failing to notice and correct any cruelty on Livia’s part.
The accusations against Livia need to be set in the context of the Romans’ exaggerated fear of death by poisoning. It was, for example, widely and probably inaccurately rumored that poison had been sprinkled on Pansa’s wound after the fighting at Mutina in 43 B.C., and that this had either been arranged by the then Octavian, or at least been done in his interest. Cicero’s speeches as a criminal lawyer reveal a high incidence of reported poisoning cases.
Surprising deaths were likely to have been from undiagnosed natural causes. Poison scares often coincided with plagues, and there are well-attested cases of food poisoning, especially from contaminated fish. The practice of boiling down wine in lead pans to create a cooking sauce will have led to many illnesses and premature deaths. Some years later a close friend of Augustus, Nonius Asprenas, gave a party after which 130 guests fell ill and died, presumably from food poisoning. Asprenas was taken to court for murder, but (after a show of support by the princeps) was acquitted.
There was little that Livia could do in the face of this anonymous gossip. A woman had no locus as a public figure and was obliged to suffer slander in silence.
XVIII
EXERCISING POWER
23–17 B.C.
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Travel was slow and often dangerous; weeks might pass before the princeps learned of a serious development on the Parthian frontier, months before any substantial reaction could be implemented. The pace of communications also slowed the analysis of complex problems. Important branches of knowledge—geography, for example, and economics—were in their infancy, so there were insufficient reliable and accessible data on which to base policy decisions. From a modern perspective, events took place in