CHAPTER 5

Octavian's Return in 36: Achieving His Father's Honors

The previous chapter proffered the idea that assessments of Caesar relative to the achievements of Augustus are unfairly distorted by a failure to appreciate the comparatively brief amount of time Caesar had to adjust to the new social and political circumstances his victory created. The state of Rome's Republic at Caesar's death was unsustainable. It remained for those Caesar left behind to fumble in the dark toward a reconstitution of the Republic that could endure. As it turned out, time was on the young Octavian's side. After overcoming successive challenges, Octavian won the breathing space he needed to fashion a sustainable position of preeminence and work out the manner in which he would publicly present himself in that role. Octavian's defeat of Sextus Pompey in 36 BCE in the Battle of Naulochus and subsequent celebration of that victory are important landmarks on that journey.

The period between Philippi and Naulochus was crucial to the development of Octavian's image and theology. During that time, Octavian's identity as the divine Caesar's heir and Sextus Pompey's rival compelled Octavian to strike a balance between following Caesar's example and winning over those plebs who viewed Sextus Pompey as their hero. Young Pompey had cultivated a personal association, of a frankly Hellenistic flavor, with Neptune. This divine association served as a rallying point for Pompey's supporters among the plebs. After Naulochus, Octavian attempted to present himself as a New Apollo who in defeating Pompey, the favorite of Neptune, brought an end to civil war. Octavian's declaration of the end of civil war proved to be premature; the comcomitant divine pose of Octavian in 36 provided Antony ammunition in the subsequent clash between the two triumvirs. Regardless of the fact that Octavian's self-representation missed the mark in certain respects, one can see in Octavian's triumphal reditus in 36 BCE the foundations of important elements of the Principate, including its ceremonial and theological aspects.¹ Following Actium, these elements and others like them would coalesce into the honors, ceremonial, and cult of a new political order, the Principate.

While the year 36 BCE has been the subject of a wealth of scholarly discussion, much about Octavian's return and about his ovation of that year remains only partially understood.² Octavian's celebration of his victory over Sextus Pompey shows the triumvir's first steps in a long process that would lead eventually to the conflation of adventus and triumphus in the empire.³ Furthermore, the celebrations and honors of 36 BCE set important precedents for the construction of the Principate during the aftermath of civil war. Indeed, it was in 36 that Octavian first declared an end to Rome's civil war (Octavian appears to have viewed the end of his war with Sextus Pompey as the conclusion of a much longer conflict, beginning with the conflict between Caesar and Pompey the Great).⁴ Just as Caesar received honors that brought him closer to divinity following his defeat of Pompey the Great, Octavian, the young Caesar, was received at Rome like a deity in 36, as is attested both in the honors extended to him and in the criticism the honors provoked. The present discussion examines the victorious Octavian's reditus and ovatio in 36 in terms of the evolution of a theology of a Roman savior. The current chapter also seeks to explain the significance of the timing of the ovatio and to shed new light on the problem of the cena dodekatheos.

Pompey's interference in the grain supply constituted the greatest threat to Octavian's position in Italy after Octavian's victory in the Perusine War. The situation was exacerbated by the public agitation of Pompeian partisans in Rome. These partisans openly celebrated Sextus as the son of Neptune.⁵ As the son of Pompey the Great, Sextus embodied an alternative to the divided Caesarian party and could plausibly claim to represent the last hope of the Republic after Philippi.⁶ Welch has made a strong case for Pompey having been one of the three protectors of the Republic after Mutina (Brutus and Cassius were the other two).⁷ It was therefore imperative that Octavian defeat and delegitimize Pompey. Octavian cast Pompey as a pirate after the breakdown of the pact of Misenum, through which Pompey had joined the triumvirate and obtained the augural priesthood, a consulship in absentia, and a large provincia.⁸ Maneuvering to reverse Pompey's political gains, Octavian took advantage of the opportunity presented to him by the capture of pirates, by claiming that they were taking orders from Pompey.⁹ Although a brilliant tactic on Octavian's part, this ruse had the downside of limiting the honors that Octavian could then receive in recognition of the subsequent victory over Pompey; Roman generals did not triumph over slaves or pirates.¹⁰ Still, the defeat of Pompey was a watershed moment in Octavian's triumviral career and prompted Octavian to maximize its potential to boost his reputation.

Up to the defeat of Pompey, various complications had overshadowed the celebration and commemoration of Octavian's military accomplishments. After Mutina, Octavian, denied a triumph or any suitable reward for his defense of the Republic against Antony, marched on Rome to force his way into the consulship.¹¹ The proscriptions soon followed, and Octavian's relatively insignificant role in the victory at Philippi took the shine off of that achievement.¹² The circumstances surrounding the victory over Pompey were much more favorable: Octavian was already an established consular, and he held extraordinary, yet legal, authority as a triumvir. Relieving Italy from Sextus Pompey's blockade unquestionably fell within his official purview, and, indeed, Octavian's victory ended the threat of starvation that had plagued the city.¹³ In comparison with earlier events, the defeat of Sextus Pompey afforded Octavian much greater latitude in how he presented himself—including providing space to frame himself as the savior of the Republic.

Victory over Sextus as the Dawn of a New Age for Italy

Not surprisingly, Octavian's victory over Sextus in the Sicilian War yielded an outpouring of divine signs. These signs and the attending activities of diviners are reminiscent of events in the careers of Marius and Sulla, suggesting a return to a narrative about the change of saecula such as emerged in the context of the Social War and the related Roman civil war. According to Pliny the Elder, Suetonius, and Dio, a fish leaped out of the sea and landed at Octavian's feet shortly before the Battle of Naulochus. The haruspices in Octavian's entourage interpreted this as a sign of victory.¹⁴ Other omens followed the victory. If Dio and Appian's accounts can be trusted, these omens suggested that Octavian's victory had a sweeping, even cosmic significance.¹⁵

One of the more important, if not immediately striking, indicators of the significance attributed to Octavian's victory is the appearance in our ancient sources of references to Italian unrest at the time of the Sicilian War. Italian discontent, which had manifested powerfully in the Perusine War, continued during the Sicilian War. In the Perusine War, Etruscans, Umbrians, and the Sabines had risen up against Octavian and joined the cause of Lucius Antonius. Syme has even characterized this phenomenon as the final manifestation of the Italian resistance of the Social War.¹⁶ Although we are not privy to many of the specifics, Dio wrote of unrest in Etruria during the Sicilian War.¹⁷ Appian described bands of robbers infesting Italy.¹⁸ After his victory over Pompey, Octavian assigned Sabinus to address this bandit problem. It is thus not difficult to see how the theme of Italian unrest attached itself to the Sicilian War too.

The quieting of this unrest was cast in terms suggesting divine intervention. As discussed in chapter 1, Sulla had received a sign of his divinely appointed role as savior of Rome and Italy as he embarked on campaign in the Social War.¹⁹ Sulla based his interpretation of this sign on the declaration of the haruspices. According to their interpretation of the Lavernan prodigy, a person of striking appearance would bring an end to Rome's troubles both in the city and elsewhere—the reference to troubles being a thinly veiled allusion to the Social War. Any subsequent leader who wanted to lay claim to the fulfillment of this prophecy would thus have to bring an end not only to civil war but also to disturbances in wider Italy. News that Octavian's victory purportedly quieted parts of Etruria that had been in rebellion could have been read in terms of this tradition, which included the prophecy of Vegoia.²⁰ Since Italian unrest, which had resurfaced repeatedly in the first half of the first century, was already interpreted in light of secular prophecy, it would be surprising if the same were not true in regard to Octavian's victory.

At Rome, too, divine signs pointed to an end of civil war. As one would expect, Capitoline Jupiter played a prominent role in the divine manifestations, just as he had during the war between Marius and Sulla. Dio related an anecdote about a Roman soldier who, possessed by a god, “said and did many strange things” that culminated in the soldier running to the Capitoline and placing his sword at the feet of Jupiter.²¹ Dio interpreted this sign to indicate that the sword could be given away, as there would be no further use for it, because war would be at an end. Dio's interpretation is consistent with Octavian's own declaration of the end of civil war after his return. Another interesting sign was manifested: a god's lightning struck Octavian's property on the Palatine, which Octavian had recently expanded by buying out some of his neighbors. The haruspices interpreted this as the god indicating his desire that a Temple of Apollo be built on the spot.²² The other appearance of haruspices in this period related to victory at the Battle of Naulochus. On this occasion the haruspices interpreted the sign of a fish jumping out of the sea and landing at Octavian's feet.²³ It is unlikely to be coincidental that two references to the haruspices occur within such a brief period of time. They evoke the memoir of Sulla, in which repeated references to the activities of haruspices were intended to show divine involvement in a predicted victory for Sulla and his restoration of both Rome and its empire.

The consistency between the reports of divine manifestations in Rome and in the broader Italian context suggest that Octavian was casting himself in the role of savior of Rome and Italy in a manner similar to the role Sulla had earlier carved out for himself in his own memoir.²⁴ Following this model, the propaganda of the Sicilian War laid part of the foundation for what would evolve into the princeps' depiction of a unified Italy (cuncta Italia) during his election to the pontificate in 12 BCE—an election for which Italians flocked to the city.²⁵ The forced retirement of Lepidus, who had attempted to steal Octavian's legions on Sicily in 36, led to the call for Octavian to replace Lepidus as pontifex maximus, but Octavian refrained from doing so.²⁶ The Res Gestae's account of Augustus' election to the supreme pontificate in 12 BCE and the role of cuncta Italia's vote in making that happen are thus ultimately rooted in the events of 36, when Octavian's defeat of Sextus Pompey brought an end to Italian famine and unrest.

Celebrating Victory over Sextus Pompey

As noted earlier, once Octavian promoted the idea that Pompey was a pirate, he could not then celebrate this significant victory with a triumph. At the same time, Octavian would not forgo the opportunity to maximize the victory's potential to transform his image and improve his political position. Fortunately for Octavian, the period of the Late Republic was replete with examples, other than the triumph, of honors that could be valuable in forwarding such an agenda; Octavian was well aware of such possibilities, thanks, in no small part, to the example of his adoptive father. Many people at Rome were cooperative in extending Octavian extraordinary honors in 36, because many were genuinely relieved that the grain blockade was over. Therefore, in response to the news of Octavian's victory, the Senate began to vote him numerous honors, including “praise, statues, the right to the front seat, an arch surmounted by trophies, the privilege of riding into the city on horseback, of wearing the laurel crown on all occasions, and of holding an annual banquet with his wife and children in the Temple of Capitoline Jupiter on the anniversary of his victory.”²⁷

This list of honors provides some clues regarding the form that the celebration of the victor's initial advent took. The Senate voted Octavian “praise” (ἐπαίνους). The voting of ἐπαίνους probably concerned the preparations for the acclamations and speeches that would be offered on Octavian's arrival. The provision for statues (εἰκόνας) may have applied to the display of statues for the occasion of Octavian's entry and ovation as well as to a permanent display of images. A plentiful supply of images of the triumvir already existed, but further images would be fashioned to commemorate the event.²⁸ In addition to statues of Octavian, the people of Rome may have displayed images of Julius Caesar to show their loyalty and support for the divi filius.²⁹

Also among Octavian's honors was the privilege to ride into the city on horseback (τὸ ἐφ᾽ ἵππου ἐσελάσαι). In 44, Caesar had entered the city on horseback during his ovation; so, too, did Octavian and Antony in 40.³⁰ Although the precise context for exercising the honor of riding into the city in horseback is not specified, it likely applied to both his initial advent and also the subsequent ovation. The right to wear the laurel crown (τό τε στεφάνῳ δαφνίνῳ ἀεὶ χρῆσθαι) also may have applied to both the advent and ovation.³¹ The arch (ἁψῖδά τε τροπαιοφόρον) would serve to mark and thus commemorate the victor's processional route. The right to the front seat (προεδρίαν) provided Octavian a place of honor at the games celebrated in connection with his return and ovation, the latter of which would occur during the Ludi Plebeii.³² Finally, the honor of celebrating a private banquet on the Capitoline on the anniversary of the victory was likely designed to commemorate his cena adventicia (homecoming banquet), the anticipated banquet after the ovation's procession, or both.³³

Many of the details concerning his arrival are similar to the grand civic receptions that cities accorded to Hellenistic kings and their representatives in the East. The people proceeded out a great distance from the city to meet Octavian as he started his final advance toward Rome.³⁴ In celebrations of arrival, the degree of honor was measured by the status of the most prestigious participants, the sheer number of participants, and the distance they traveled to meet the person arriving.³⁵ To provide some perspective, Antony traveled all the way from Rome to Spain to meet Caesar as Caesar started his return journey to Rome.³⁶ Later, in the Res Gestae, Augustus made much of the fact that the Senate decreed an embassy—including praetors, tribunes, and a consul—to go as far as Campania to welcome Augustus on the occasion of his return to Rome from Syria in 19 BCE.³⁷

When Octavian arrived at the city in 36, the people escorted him to temples and then finally to his own house.³⁸ On the following day, Octavian assembled the people outside the pomerium (as was traditional for the pre-triumphal contio) and addressed them. There “he proclaimed peace and goodwill, and said that the civil wars were ended.”³⁹ Octavian then discussed both the honors extended to him and the benefactions he would bestow on Rome. Among his benefactions, he included the bestowal of citizenship on Utica, a city that figured prominently in fight between Caesar and the Pompeians; this was surely a gesture symbolizing reconciliation at the end of a civil war Octavian was framing as a continuation of that earlier conflict.⁴⁰ This event provides clear evidence that Octavian appealed to the memory of the divine Julius in the way he envisioned the significance of his war with Sextus Pompey.⁴¹ Octavian also emulated Caesar in the way he exercised discretion in accepting some honors and refusing others.⁴² Indeed, when the people urged Octavian to replace Lepidus as pontifex maximus, Octavian declined to do so.⁴³

More striking is the mention of Octavian's pronouncement of benefactions, which conforms to the model of Hellenistic royal parousia. During a royal parousia, appropriately flowery communication concerning honors and benefactions would take place between the king and the government of the polis. It could occur during a meeting of the king with the city council.⁴⁴ In such an exchange, the king would detail his gifts to the city, including such benefactions as the right of self-government, freedom from tribute, and grain. Although most instances of adventus at Rome in this period evoke the image of Hellenistic royal parousia to some degree, this instance of Octavian announcing his benefactions to Rome constitutes a particularly striking parallel to Hellenistic royal visitations. Indeed, it suggests a relationship between ruler and city that is quite different from the traditional mold of a victorious commander-magistrate returning in triumph to Rome. In the traditional relationship, the magistrate goes forward as an elected representative, bearing a grant of imperium assented to by the god Jupiter. The grant of a triumph gives the magistrate a surpassing, if temporary, preeminence, but it remains the Senate's gift to give. Octavian's approach to his advent in 36 suggests a degree of role reversal, with the benefactions of the victor threatening to overshadow the honors extended to him by the Senate and people. The Senate in particular may have felt pressure to inflate the honors extended to Octavian in return, if only to forestall the inevitable realization of the Senate's collective inadequacy and dependence on the warlords who had effectively hijacked the Republic.

Octavian's honors of 36 followed the precedent set during the last two years of Caesar's life, when civil war victories led to the extension of honors that raised the prestige and status of the honorand above his peers on a more enduring basis.⁴⁵ The list of honors for Octavian was not as long as Caesar's, nor were the individual honors as ostentatious; but in some respects, they arguably exceeded the Caesarian forerunners. After Octavian arrived and addressed the Romans, it was further decided that at least one of the statues voted for him would be gold—a clear symbol of divinity—and that the statue would appear in the garb Octavian wore as he entered the city.⁴⁶ This statue would stand in the Forum Romanum, on the apex of a column covered with the beaks of ships, a monument in the tradition of the column honoring Duilius.⁴⁷ On this monument would be a plaque bearing the inscription “Peace, long disturbed, he re-established on land and sea.”⁴⁸ The claim of conquering on both land and sea had its roots in the propaganda of Hellenistic rulers and in the claims to world rule by both Pompey and Caesar.⁴⁹ Augustus incorporated the same claim into his Res Gestae.⁵⁰

Aspects of this list of honors clearly imbued Octavian with an aura of divinity. Indeed, the elevation of Octavian to a semi-divine status is perhaps the most innovative aspect of the honors extended in 36 in connection with Octavian's victory over Sextus Pompey. The honors of 36 lent greater weight to Octavian's connections to divinity as the son of the divine Caesar (divi filius) and the son of Apollo, but they also served to broaden the appeal of this divinity. In addition to the gold statue, he received tribunician sanctitas—inviolability secured by an oath of the plebs—perhaps in lieu of the supreme pontificate.⁵¹ Now associated with the tribunate through this honor, Octavian appeared to be a champion of the plebs, a group that had recently held Pompey to be their man.⁵² The entire list of divine honors was in keeping with the spirit of the times during the conflict with Sextus Pompey. Indeed, one might say that there had been a kind of “arms race” in divine propaganda, since Sextus Pompey's association with Neptune surely had developed in response to the cachet that Octavian possessed by being the divi filius.⁵³ For his part, Octavian likely then started to promote the story that his father was Apollo. Although logically inconsistent, the claim to dual paternity was precisely the same one Sextus Pompey made.⁵⁴

Banquet of the Gods

Although generally not viewed in the same light as other divine honors, the annual banquet on the anniversary of the victory over Pompey merits closer examination as an honor adding to the divine luster surrounding Octavian.⁵⁵ Private banqueting in association with state festivals was a feature of the Ludi Cereales, Ludi Megalenses, and Saturnalia.⁵⁶ Such banquets, however, usually took place at the family's private residence, rather than in the temple of Rome's patron deity. The honor of the private use of the Temple of Capitoline Jupiter for a banquet thus stands out as unique. It is, in fact, reminiscent of Demetrius Poliorcetes' use of the opisthodomos of the Temple of Athena Parthenos as his private residence in Athens and of the private consultations that Scipio Africanus purportedly had with Jupiter in the god's sacrarium at the Capitoline Temple.⁵⁷ The honor of this annual banquet with Jupiter was not simply a voluntary act of private devotion, however; it was decreed by the Senate. This melding of the public and private under official auspices is characteristic of the Principate and should be viewed as an early step in its development. Furthermore, the extension of this honor to the family of the triumvir meant that Octavian's entire family attained a species of official status and a divine aura.

This anniversary victory banquet is also interesting in light of the charge leveled by Antony against Octavian that the triumvir had participated in a scandalous banquet, which Suetonius dubbed the cena dodekatheos, or “banquet of the twelve gods.”⁵⁸ The episode is related in a complicated account of Suetonius.

Cena quoque eius secretior in fabulis fuit, quae vulgo δωδεκάθεος vocabatur; in qua deorum dearumque habitu discubuisse convivas et ipsum pro Apolline ornatum non Antoni modo epistulae singulorum nomina amarissime enumerantis exprobant, sed et sine auctore notissimi versus:

Cum primum istorum conduxit mensa choragum,

Sexque deos vidit Mallia sexque deas,

Impia dum Phoebi Caesar mendacia ludit,

Dum nova divorum cenat adulteria:

Omnia se a terris tunc numina declinarunt,

Fugit et auratos Iuppiter ipse thronos.

Auxit cenae rumorem summa tunc in civitate penuria ac fames, adclamatumque est postridie: omne frumentum deos comedisse et Caesarem esse plane Apollinem, sed Tortorem, quo cognomine is deus quadam in parte urbis colebatur.⁵⁹

[There were also rumors that he held a private banquet, which was commonly referred to as the twelve gods, in which the banqueters reclined in the guise of gods and goddesses; Caesar himself was arrayed as Apollo. Not only does a letter of Antony bitingly counting off the names of each of the banqueters put forth the accusation, but also notorious verses of unknown authorship:

‘When first the table of that infamous host united together,

Mallia saw six gods here, six goddesses there,

While Caesar Apollo mimed a blasphemous fable,

And represented new heavenly indiscretions at table,

All the heavenly powers turned away from the earth,

And Jove himself fled his golden throne.’

Extreme scarcity and famine in the city at the time fed the rumor of the banquet. The next day the cry rang out: “The gods have devoured all the stores, and Caesar is surely Apollo, but the Tormenting One”—the god was worshiped by that name in a certain part of the city.]

In this scandalous banquet, Octavian allegedly dressed as Apollo, while famine raged in the city. For this reason, the people of Rome called Octavian Apollo the Tormentor. One wit wrote a poem on the topic in which the banquet was described in terms reminiscent of the rite of lectisternium, a banquet of the gods offered as expiation at times of pestilence and military disaster.⁶⁰ In the poem, Jupiter, disgusted at the sight of recent lewdness (nova adulteria) at the banquet, is described as fleeing his throne. The precise inspiration for the accusation is difficult to pin down, although the lewd behavior of Demetrius Poliorcetes on the Athenian Acropolis and in the Parthenon, where he had taken up residence, would be an obvious non-Roman source of inspiration.⁶¹ Some scholars argue that one particular historical banquet or another was the inspiration for Suetonius' cena dodekatheos, while others argue that such a banquet never occurred.⁶² Indeed, it may not have, although Antony's accusation, complete with a roster of names of the banquet's participants, would seem to indicate quite the opposite.⁶³ One must be conscious of the possibility that Suetonius' portrayal of the event could be the product of his own scholarship, cobbled together from various strands of evidence.

The cena dodekatheos is compelling, in either case, because of what it may reveal about contemporary tensions regarding the increasingly permeable boundaries between humanity and divinity. The divine claims and honors of the day broke new ground in closing the gap between the mortal and divine realms. Notice the juxtaposition of the words nova and deorum in the poem, which not only suggests novelties involving the gods but perhaps also hints at “new gods.” It was one thing for someone to claim intimate association with divinities in the mode of a Numa or Scipio Africanus, but it was altogether another thing to assume the guise of one of the heavenly gods. The latter surely challenged the Romans' theological sensibilities. The right to hold an annual private banquet in the Capitoline Temple was a unique honor that pushed the boundaries of traditional relations between Rome's human and divine communities. Perhaps it was deemed offensive that Livia, who was assumed by many to have committed adultery with Octavian, attended a state-sanctioned banquet held in the presence of Jupiter. It may also be the case that mendacia and nova adulteria refer to a dramatic reenactment of the story of the miraculous conception of Octavian in the Temple of Apollo. Certainly men like the purportedly pious Q. Lutatius Catulus would have been aghast in either case.⁶⁴ The story of the cena dodekatheos is powerful in the way that it gives expression to contemporary discomfort with the novel honors extended to Octavian and his family, people of arguably questionable morals.

The cena dodekatheos anecdote thus serves as a kind of narrative theological argument that would have been particularly applicable to the circumstances of 36, a year in which the informal touting of divine parentage during conditions of civil war was translated into unprecedented official honors that substantively cemented these divine claims. For those who witnessed Octavian's return in 36, the myth of the cena dodekatheos would have resonated powerfully with reflections on the novelty, contradictions, transgressions, and hopes attached to this remarkable shift in Roman religious practice. It is therefore useful to explore the ways in which the story of the cena dodekatheos would have been applicable in this historical context, regardless of whether an actual, historical banquet matching Suetonius' description occurred during that year. In this examination, the events of 36 will be treated both as a viable historical context for the cena dodekatheos, albeit cautiously and tentatively, and as representative of the developments in Rome's religious culture that informed the story and its particular concerns.

It is important to note that it was not unusual for elite feasting to occur in connection with advents, triumphs, and ovations. Appian relates an account of the triumphing Scipio Africanus banqueting with his friends at the Capitoline Temple “in accordance with custom.”⁶⁵ During Aemilius Paullus' triumph in 167, the Senate held a feast on the Capitol. Livy raises the question of whether such a feast is for the pleasure of men or the gods.⁶⁶ In the poem that Suetonius transmits regarding the banquet of the twelve gods, Jupiter fled from his golden throne at the sight of the impious banquet. As Miller astutely observes, the reference to the throne suggests the Jupiter of the Capitoline Temple in particular.⁶⁷ The setting of the cena dodekatheos, as imagined by Suetonius' poet, was thus probably the Capitoline Temple, which was the traditional setting of a triumphal banquet.

Suetonius' description of this cena as secretior may reflect contemporary concerns about the relative inaccessibility of Octavian's unique community with Jupiter.⁶⁸ A victory banquet in the Capitoline Temple would have been inaccessible to most of the city populace because of space limitations. Like the cena dodekatheos, a private cena adventicia such as friends of a victorious general would offer in honor of his success was also cut off from public view and participation.⁶⁹ The honor of an annual private yet state-sanctioned banquet in the presence of Jupiter Optimus Maximus combined such traditions, but it did so in a way that was novel. One might expect annual private banqueting of elites during festivals, as in the case of the festival of the Great Mother, or the use of a magistrate's home for state rites, such as happened in the observance of the rites of Bona Dea. Extraordinary here was the celebration of an official but private banquet in a state temple of such singular significance. Those who officially celebrate lectisternia in private with the gods must be, by inference, gods themselves. The novelty of this private lectisternium of state gods together with Octavian and his family resonates with the sense of outrage in Suetonius' depiction of the secretior cena.

One might object that the cena dodekatheos does not match the conditions of 36, since Suetonius describes the former as having occurred at a time of severe hardship and famine (summa tunc in civitate penuria ac fames).⁷⁰ Suetonius relates that, on the following day, a cry was raised that the gods had eaten all the food and that Octavian was Apollo the Tortor (the Tormentor)—one of the god's cult epithets in the city.⁷¹ Caution about the credibility of this description is in order. It is important to recall the highly rhetorical nature of the war of words between the different factions in general and in representations of advents and triumphs in particular.⁷² Historical reports of departures, advents, and triumphs may include mention of the misstep, embarrassing moment, or bad omen that marred the occasion.⁷³ Indeed, it was de rigueur for the political opponents of any arriving elite to paint his arrival in terms that inverted the panegyrics of those who praised him.

Plutarch recounts a story closely similar to the cena dodekatheos and its accompanying public outcry. His biography of Antony describes the triumvir's much-celebrated arrival at Ephesus as the New Dionysus.⁷⁴ After a Dionysiac welcome in which the inhabitants of Ephesus, dressed as maenads, satyrs, and pans poured out of the city to greet him as “Dionysus the Beneficent and Mild” (Xαριδότην καὶ Mειλίχιον), Antony settled in for an extended stay in the city, during which, according to his enemies, he partied with disreputable people and distributed largesse to them.⁷⁵ These enemies retaliated against his misbehavior by twisting his new Dionysiac identity into a malignant form of the god, “Dionysus the Cannibal and Savage” (Ὠμηστὴς καὶ Ἀγριώνιος). The inversion of the divine epithet so soon after the arrival of the leader is reminiscent of the acclamation of Octavian as Apollo Tortor and of the offensive image of the cena dodekatheos. Furthermore, in both accounts, the transformation of an image of generous benefaction to one of monstrous consumption violates the ideal economy of honors and benefactions appropriate for ruler-city relations.⁷⁶

The existence of two narratives of such close similarity that concern each of the two sides of a well-known propaganda war should, at the very least, raise suspicions about their factual accuracy.⁷⁷ It may be that these charges were manufactured after the fact, as part of the war of words between the two sides in the run-up to Actium. However, if such complaints and insults really were voiced at the time of the described events, it is possible that the partisans of the particular triumvir's enemy played the part of anti-claque to mar the festivities. Partisans of Antony or the refugee Sextus Pompey might have aimed anti-acclamations of Apollo Tortor at Octavian in 36. Suetonius' description of the negative reaction to the banquet of the twelve gods includes the verb adclamare, the standard language of a welcome chant at an advent, triumph, or similar arrival ceremony.⁷⁸ This suggests that, at the very least, his source was playing with conventional rhetoric associated with the adventus and triumphus. The Roman people may have greeted Octavian as the New Apollo when he arrived in Rome after defeating Sextus Pompey, just as the Athenians and Ephesians hailed Antony as a New Dionysus. “New Apollo” was a fitting greeting for the man who had defeated the son of Neptune.⁷⁹ The cry of Apollo Tortor would thus have represented an inversion of the welcoming acclamation, precisely in the same terms as the cry of Dionysus the Cannibal against Antony in Ephesus.

Whether either rhetorical inversion actually took place in the historical setting described, it is clear that the Hellenistic royal welcoming ritual was the lens through which these episodes were interpreted. The clash between this Mediterranean cultural phenomenon and traditional Roman arrival practices gave rise to anecdotes like that of the cena dodekatheos. In this case, the incongruity of seeing Octavian enter Rome in ovation to acclamations as the New Apollo, perhaps even dressed as the god, provides the specific point of tension.⁸⁰ The adoption of an explicitly divine identity that was not set aside at the climax of the ritual (as the triumphal costume traditionally was) but, rather, persisted on into the banquet with Jupiter would be yet another point of controversy. As a transgression of Roman tradition, it was perhaps more grievous than Marius' misstep in wearing his triumphal garb to his first meeting with the Senate as consul.⁸¹ The difference in Octavian's case was that the Senate and People legitimized the divine association by granting the honor of an annual banquet with Jupiter. With partisans of other leaders still around, however, the novelty of the situation readily lent itself to invective.

The likelihood that Octavian was identified as Apollo in the context of his victorious return or during his ovation and then during his victory banquet on the Capitoline depends on the degree to which Octavian did, in fact, promote his connection with Apollo at such an early stage of his career.⁸² Numismatic evidence for such an early connection is admittedly sparse, with most depictions of Apollo on Octavian's coinage following the victory at Actium. Gurval in particular has argued at some length against the position that Octavian played up his associations with Apollo before Actium.⁸³ While it is likely that the myth of the Augustus-Apollo connection took time to develop, there is sufficient cause to consider an early date for the identification of Octavian with Apollo, leading to acclamations of Octavian as the New Apollo in 36.⁸⁴ As mentioned earlier, Pompey's use of Neptune would have provided a strong inducement for Octavian to respond by adopting the story that Apollo was his father. The claim to be divi filius was, at that point, probably no longer sufficient to compete with Sextus. Although the relationship between the divine claims of Pompey and Octavian may be difficult to prove, the evidence strongly supports such an inference. The evidence that Pompey promoted himself as the son of Neptune is, of course, stronger than the evidence of Octavian's promotion of Apollo as his father. Sextus' coins proudly display Neptune and marine symbols.⁸⁵ Octavian's Apolline references on coinage are much subtler: a tripod with a cauldron and laurel.⁸⁶ If the cena dodekatheos does not pertain to 36, the evidence appears even sparser.

Palatine Apollo and the New Age

One important piece of evidence from 36 has not yet been taken sufficiently into account. Upon his return to Rome, Octavian vowed a temple to Apollo, which was to be placed next to his own house on the Palatine.⁸⁷ Gurval discounts this as any kind of public statement about Apollo, but taken in the context of the honors extended to Octavian that year, such a position hardly seems tenable.⁸⁸ This was, after all, precisely the time when the public and private religious spheres were colliding for the young triumvir. The honor of banqueting with his family in the Capitoline Temple shows the same blurring of boundaries from the other direction. Indeed, the circumstances of the construction of his house and the vowing of the Temple of Apollo strongly suggest that Octavian intended for the temple to serve as a very public statement regarding his religiosity.

Octavian probably started to acquire property to expand his house on the Palatine before his victory over Pompey.⁸⁹ Dio's account seems to indicate that the people's vote to build Octavian's house at public expense occurred at a meeting of the Assembly after Octavian's victory contio outside the pomerium. A thunderbolt had struck the property, leading Octavian to call in haruspices, who declared that the god had claimed the spot; thus Octavian vowed to build the temple.⁹⁰ We are not privy to the amount of time that passed between the contio and the meeting of the Assembly, but it would very likely have been sufficient time for discussion of the disposition of Octavian's property in light of the implications of the divine manifestation through lightning. The process whereby the new Palatine residence of Octavian became a matter of public concern should be viewed as part of the negotiation of Octavian's honors in 36.⁹¹ Once the god had claimed the spot by means of his lightning, Augustus and those honoring him arranged for the state to pay to build his house and the temple as part of the package of honors he was to receive. Thus the claim that this temple was merely a private expression of devotion does not bear close scrutiny.

Hekster and Rich have discussed the lightning strike on Octavian's Palatine property in great detail.⁹² According to their reading of the evidence, after lightning struck Octavian's Palatine property, the haruspices were called in to examine the event, and they concluded, doubtless to Octavian's delight, that Apollo had thereby indicated his desire to have a temple on the spot. In the present argument, it has been proposed that the appearance of the haruspices in this event follows in the tradition of Sulla's claim to be the Republic's savior at the arrival of a new saeculum. The identification of Apollo as one who hurls thunderbolts to indicate his will is, as Hekster and Rich acknowledge, not unproblematic. Apollo had, up to that time, never been credited with a lightning prodigy of any kind in Rome. There is no clear evidence that Etruscans ever attributed this power to their god Apulu such that the haruspices would have concluded that Apollo had indicated his desire for a temple on that spot, unless, of course, Octavian pressed them to do so. We have no evidence that he did.

The problem of Apollo and the thunderbolt can be overcome, however, if we suppose that Octavian and others were identifying the god with Veiovis, as Cinnan moneyers did earlier in the same century.⁹³ This “youthful Jupiter” was depicted as an Apolline youth bearing arrows or thunderbolts. Veiovis was a Julian family god, who was also connected to Romulus' asylum on the Capitol.⁹⁴ Veiovis was considered a god of asylum, an attribute that may have been considered appropriate in light of the circumstances of the migration of the Julian clan to Rome after the fall of Alba Longa to Tullus Hostilius.⁹⁵ His association with the Julian clan can be dated at least as far back as the late second century, as is attested in an inscribed altar at Bovillae, the traditional seat of the Julians.⁹⁶ Weinstock suggests the association of Veiovis and Iulus, ancestor of the Julians, as that of two youthful males who employ the bow.⁹⁷ Servius relates a legend, which he attributes to L. Caesar, that Iulus used his bow to avenge the death of his father, Aeneas, who had been slain at the hands of Mezentius. The identification of Apollo, another Julian deity, with Veiovis—a natural association since both figures are youthful, arrow-slinging deities—would have been most useful for Octavian at a moment in time when Octavian was once again avenging Caesar by defeating the remnants of his father's Pompeian enemies in Sicily and bringing an end to new unrest in Italy. The lightning strike of “Apollo” on the Palatine would make perfect sense if that Apollo were also seen as Veiovis.

If correct, this proposed association of Apollo with Veiovis on the Palatine would also hark back to events at Rome earlier in the first century. It is perhaps more than an interesting coincidence that in order to enlarge his residence on the Palatine, Octavian purchased the home of Q. Lutatius Catulus Capitolinus, the Sullan consular who had rebuilt a Capitoline Temple destroyed in civil war and who had been defeated by Caesar in the election for pontifex maximus.⁹⁸ Licinius Macer, a triumvir monetalis who put Veiovis on his coins during the dominatio Cinnae, was an ideological foe of Catulus.⁹⁹ Sallust has the tribune (73 BCE) Licinius describe Catulus as saevior in comparison with Sulla.¹⁰⁰ Catulus' building projects on the Capitoline had the effect of crowding the Temple of Veiovis and the Asylum of Romulus to the point that they were practically obscured, a gesture that was intended to communicate his partisan sentiments about the ill-reputed Asylum of Romulus and the Temple of Veiovis, which Romulus had instituted to provide refuge for Italians fleeing tyranny.¹⁰¹ Licinius Macer and Catulus thus represented two sides of an ideological conflict that was expressed in political action, historical representation, coinage, and monuments. The two men also reflected two different postures toward the issue of the citizenship of the Italians, as their respective treatments of the Asylum of Romulus would suggest.¹⁰²

Elements of that conflict carried through into the triumviral period, as should be apparent in the lore about Catulus and Octavian. At least two of the dreams that Suetonius reports as foretelling Octavian's imperial future were purportedly sent to Catulus, who dreamed of Jupiter and the child Octavian interacting in the Capitoline Temple.¹⁰³ In these dreams, Catulus' anger toward the young Octavian for violating the sanctity of Jupiter's temple is quelled by the command of Jupiter. Since Catulus died shortly after 61, his life had overlapped briefly with Octavian's. The dreams that bring the two together in this way are reminiscent of the tale of Scipio passing the torch of martial charisma to Marius. Taken together, however, Catulus' dreams and the claim of a lightning strike on Octavian's recently acquired property on the Palatine might reflect tensions over the sale of Catulus' home to Octavian.

Octavian may have chosen to buy this property as a political statement. If so, it would not be the last time that Octavian would use a house to make a statement. Consider his demolition of the house of his own partisan Vedius Pollio, which may have been intended as a repudiation of the man's lavish lifestyle and cruelty, both evidently abhorrent to Augustus.¹⁰⁴ On this occasion, the statement may have involved reversing Catulus' slight against Veiovis and Romulus by appropriating Catulus' home, covering it with his own new villa, and establishing a giant temple to Apollo-Veiovis on part of the site or, at least, directly adjacent to it. Such a gesture would be oddly reminiscent of Clodius' treatment of Cicero's Palatine residence. Since a Roman's personal residence might be seen as both an extension of the man and also as a kind of sacred structure, it was entirely appropriate to envision such a conflict in mythological terms, which is what Catulus' dreams do. The lightning authorizing the establishment of the Temple of Apollo in connection with the triumvir's Palatine residence, when read through the lens of Catulus' dreams, can be seen as an authorization by Jupiter of the prodigious activities of his new favorite, the New Apollo or Young Jupiter, which happened to disturb Catulus.

That Palatine Apollo is not explicitly identified as Veiovis does not militate against this reading.¹⁰⁵ Obviously, in the intervening years between the vow of the temple and its post-Actian completion, the more obscure Veiovis had fallen into oblivion, in favor of the more famous Apollo. The virtues of identifying the god who struck Octavian's property as Veiovis are that (1) it handily explains why Apollo indicates his will with lightning, something that is no obstacle for Veiovis; (2) Veiovis and Apollo are both appropriate gods for a Julian, but Veiovis has both an archaizing flavor and also strong ancestral ties to the Julian family; (3) Veiovis combines the attributes of Apollo and Jupiter in a manner that is distinctly Augustan (in this regard, one notes the dream attributed to Octavian's father in which Octavian, riding in a triumphal quadriga, exhibits characteristics of both Jupiter and Apollo [Suet. Aug. 94.6]); and (4) it was perhaps fitting for Octavian to associate himself with the ancient Italian roots of the Julii and to have that identification sanctioned by the haruspices at this time, when there had been recent unrest in Italy.

If Veiovis or Jupiter sent the lightning that struck Octavian's Palatine property, this event may have been interpreted in conjunction with the possessed soldier's gesture of placing a sword before the feet of Capitoline Jove and thus as providing divine affirmation that Octavian's victory was the end of civil war, an idea that Octavian himself promoted shortly thereafter. This conjunction of miracles involving Jupiter, Apollo-Veiovis, and Octavian points strongly to the possibility that, as in other victory epiphanies, Octavian and his supporters engaged in a deliberate campaign to show the role of the gods in their success.¹⁰⁶ In this case, the victory was given broad significance. Octavian seems to have hoped that his victory would mark the end of civil war, the restoration of the Republic, and the pacification of Italy. In short, it would be the dawning of a new age, and what deity would better represent the arrival of this new age than a young Jupiter—Veiovis-Apollo?¹⁰⁷

Octavian would also combine the attributes of Jupiter and Apollo in his ovation, when he entered the city in procession wearing a laurel crown just as Crassus had in 71.¹⁰⁸ Of course, Crassus' reason for donning the laurel may have included assimilation to another son of Jupiter, Hercules.¹⁰⁹ As part of Octavian's returning honors, he had been granted an ovation on the Ides of November. This ovation was part of a recent trend of innovative ovations. It was preceded by the double ovation with Antony in 40 to celebrate the peace resulting from the pact of Brundisium.¹¹⁰ The double ovation of the triumvirs was modeled on Caesar's ovation of January 44 in that it was not in celebration of a military victory. Like Caesar's, it was also intended, in a sense, to be a celebration of the end of civil war and of reconciliation.¹¹¹ Octavian's ovation of 36, although it celebrated the victory over Sextus Pompey, also marked the end of civil war. This is not to say that the defeat of Sextus was not an important aspect of the proceedings. Octavian orchestrated the timing of his ovation to send clear messages about his own rise and honors and about the enemy he had overcome.

The timing of Octavian's victory and the celebrations upon his return to Rome were rich in significance. His defeat of Sextus and quashing of Lepidus' abortive coup occurred in his natal month, and he might have seen the victory as another new birth, just as he had construed the appearance of the astrum Caesaris. Although Octavian had returned to the city in September, he timed his ovation to coincide with the Ludi Plebeii.¹¹² The choice of date looked back to Octavian's adventus at Rome in November of 44 during the Ludi Plebeii. On that occasion, a tribune, Cannutius, went out to meet Octavian and his soldiers, who were encamped at the Temple of Mars on the Via Appia. Octavian then entered the city through the Porta Capena and held a contio at the Temple of Castor and Pollux,¹¹³ where he addressed a crowd consisting of his soldiers, the plebs, and undoubtedly some members of the Roman elite. Stretching his hand toward a statue of Caesar, he stated his intention to seek the same honors that his adoptive father, Caesar, had acquired.¹¹⁴ Even a cursory comparison of the honors extended to Octavian in 36 with those extended to Caesar in 46 and 45, also for civil war victories, reveals the significant overlap. By celebrating his ovation during the Ludi Plebeii, Octavian was thus able to evoke the memory of his arrival in the city in November of 44 in such a way as to show that he had achieved what he had then said he would do. Drawing people's minds back to 44 was yet another means of marking this victory as an end to a civil war that was only prolonged by the assassination of Caesar in the Curia Pompeia. Furthermore, during the Ludi Plebeii of 40, Pompeian partisans had cheered a statue of Neptune both in support of their leader Sextus, the self-styled “son of Neptune,” and in opposition to Octavian, who had recently celebrated his victory in the Perusine War.¹¹⁵ At the time, Octavian responded to the provocation by forbidding statues of Neptune from being displayed at the games.¹¹⁶

The timing of these earlier demonstrations on Sextus Pompey's behalf adds to the significance of the ovation of 36. Octavian had stressed his connection to Apollo as an answer to Pompey's claim that Neptune was his father. Both of these claims to divine identity also tied the men to their fathers. Apollo was a patron of the Julii, while Sextus saw his father, who had swept the pirates from the Mediterranean, as a favorite of Neptune. After he defeated Pompey and put him on the run, Octavian timed his victory celebration during the Ludi Plebeii to fall on the date of the prior conflict with Pompey's partisans over their Neptune. He did so in order to place a highly symbolic final terminus on the civil war conflict between Pompeii and Julii and their divine patrons. That the ovating commander was not dressed in the customary vestis triumphalis would have given him greater leeway in his mode of self-presentation. During his ovation, Octavian entered the city as the New Apollo and then banqueted on the Capitoline with the god in whose honor the games were conducted. November 13 was a feast day for Jupiter (epulum Iovis) after the ludi.¹¹⁷ During this feast, senators dined at public expense on the Capitoline, while the people dined in the Forum Romanum.

Octavian also may have sought to capitalize on the possible symbolism of libertas associated with both the Ludi Plebeii and other cult celebrations dated to the Ides of November. Several ancient authors place the origins of these games in the early years of the Republic, after the expulsion and defeat of the Tarquins.¹¹⁸ Other deities celebrated on the Ides of November, as attested in the Fasti Antiates and the calendar of the Arval Brethren, included Feronia, Fortuna Primigenia, and Pietas.¹¹⁹ In Servius, one finds evidence of the significance of the cult of Feronia for freedwomen, as well as Varro's comment to the effect that her name was the equivalent of Libertas.¹²⁰ Since November 27 would mark the seventh anniversary of the passing of the lex Titia, which gave a legal basis to the Second Triumvirate, the celebration of Octavian's return as the end of civil war in a time when people's thoughts turned to libertas may have suggested the possibility of an end to the Triumvirate. Accordingly, Octavian promised the restoration of the Republican constitution upon Antony's return.¹²¹ An ovation on the Ides of November was thus an appropriate way to celebrate the anticipated return of the Republic that Octavian announced at a contio during his initial advent that year. Just as Caesar had done in his ovation of 44, Octavian timed his ovation to coincide with a major feast of Jupiter, in a way that was designed to symbolize the dawning of a new age for the Republic.

The different ways in which Octavian was identified with Apollo gave Pompey's remaining supporters in the city ammunition for criticizing him. At his cena adventicia or the epulum Iovis, Octavian may have dressed as Apollo, just as Sextus Pompey had played the part of son of Neptune in donning a sea-blue chlamys and sacrificing horses by throwing them in the sea.¹²² Dressing the part of Apollo would have been one more way of presenting himself as a formidable opponent of the son of Neptune. Partisans of Pompey would have found in that gesture a convenient opportunity to aim rather pointed abuse at Octavian. That the worst privations of the Sicilian War had passed will not have prevented them from characterizing the celebration in November of 36 as heartless. After all, hunger at Rome may not have ended completely, and any lavish celebration at a time when some were going hungry could easily be made to appear cruel. Those of Pompey's supporters among the urban plebs who were not reconciled to Octavian as soon as their patron had been defeated would have been happy to raise the cry against his celebrations. Indeed, Pompey was still at large.¹²³ These partisans were probably the ones responsible for the mock acclamations of Octavian as Apollo Tortor in response to Octavian, the New Apollo banqueting on the Capitoline.

The honor allowing Octavian and his family to banquet in the Capitoline Temple on the anniversary of his victory was designed as a perpetual commemoration of both his victory and also this special iteration of the epulum Iovis.¹²⁴ Indeed, like the extraordinary honors extended to Caesar in the last two years of his life, many of the honors accorded to Octavian in 36 were designed to grant him a more sanctified status. The interesting difference is that these honors followed not a triumph but an ovation, a ceremony that, in recent memory, had celebrated peace and unity. This will have worked in Octavian's favor, inasmuch as it allowed him to place greater emphasis on the benefits of having restored order, in lieu of the more unsavory image of victory in civil war. The incorporation of Octavian's family into the banquet honor is one of the ways that the celebration of victory was altered not only to perpetuate the memory but also to highlight the benefits of peace through victory. Thus, on the anniversary of the games during which he stated his intention to seek his father's honors, Octavian would celebrate the conclusion of his father's war and his attainment of those honors.

Octavian and his partisans hoped to capitalize on their victory in the Sicilian War by proclaiming an end to civil war and the beginning of a new era. Both claims would prove premature, and it is a challenge to see, from our vantage point, how they could have been credible at the time. The omens preserved in Dio give us some indication of the conditions that gave rise to Octavian's claims, or had been designed to pave the way for him to make those claims. Octavian's success in Sicily ended any immediate threat to his position in Italy and the West. Those people in Italy and the western provinces who might have agitated for the cause of Sextus Pompey or even Lepidus were now left without a nearby alternative to Octavian. The young triumvir represented this end to western strife as a fulfillment of oracles similar to the one that Sulla had exploited in his memoir. The Perusine War had shown that Italy was still in a state of unrest. In capitalizing on the cessation of this unrest, Octavian and his partisans were laying claim to Sulla's legacy as savior of Rome and Italy. One ought to view this not as merely premature but, instead, as a subtle challenge to Antony and a signal that Octavian anticipated prevailing in any subsequent conflict with his sole remaining triumviral colleague in the East.

In its adaptation of elements of the careers of Sulla and Caesar, Octavian's return in 36 represents a kind of culmination of different strands of the theology of Rome's savior, but the circumstances of the time lent themselves to the further amplification of the ruler's informal deification, on the one hand, and a species of official sacralization, on the other. Competition with Sextus Pompey, who asserted a filial relationship with Neptune, resulted in a frank and assertive assumption of an Apolline identity, either as the god's son or as his avatar. The evidence presented here suggests that Octavian entered Rome as a New Apollo, but subsequent developments in the conflict with Antony would show the wisdom of suppressing such a dramatic divine self-representation. More lasting was the use of honors to bring about the lasting sacralization of the ruler and his family. The honors extended to Caesar provided a kind of model for this, but in the honor of a commemorative banquet on the anniversary of the victory over Pompey, Octavian and his household were endowed with a permanent, state-sanctioned sacral status as a family worthy of dining in the presence of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, the latter being precisely the sore point that prompted the poem on the cena dodekatheos.

1. Benoist 2005, 39–40.

2. Syme 1939, 233–34; Zanker 1990, 39–42; Kienast 1982, 55–57; Lacey 1996a, 33–34; CAH X² 37; Southern 1998, 85–86; Sumi 2005, 205–7.

3. The overlap was natural, since a grand adventus could be a step in the process of lobbying for a triumph as well as contain its own triumphal elements. See Sumi 2005, 35–36; Benoist 2005, 39–40; Ando 2000, 257; Beard 2007, 323–24. Beard (324) writes, “For in some sense, the triumph always had been, in essence, the arrival of the successful general and his re-entry into the city—and it was certainly cast in those terms by writers of the Augustan period, looking back to the ritual's early history.”

4. As Zanker (1990, 39–42) demonstrates, both Octavian and Pompey employed competing images that evoked the memory of their fathers and civil war.

5. On Pompey as the son of Neptune, see Hor. Epod. 9.7–8; Plin. Nat. 9.55; De vir. ill. 84.2; Flor. Epit. 2.18.3; App. BC 5.100; D.C. 48.19.2, 48.48; Gowing 1992, 309–10; Wallmann 1989, 167–72; Evans 1987, 97–157. Sextus started to style himself the “son of Neptune” after Munda. Welch (2012, 184–86) demonstrates that all coin types categorized under RRC 51, including those bearing images of Neptune, were minted before Misenum. During the Sicilian War in 38 BCE, another denarius (RRC 483) bears Pompey the Great's portrait with a dolphin and a trident on the obverse and the legend “NEPTUNI.” Toynbee (1970, 83) suggested that here Pompey is being identified as Neptune. Thus the identity “son of Neptune” would be the equivalent of saying “son of Pompey” and perhaps indicate a divine Pompey-Neptune. On sons of Neptune in general, see Pease 1943, 69–82. According to Wallmann (1989, 171–72), the Neptunian aspect of Pompey's Sicilian coinage comes increasingly to identify with Sextus, his own naval prowess, and his aspirations to personal power. Welch (2012, 188) takes a conservative approach to Pompey's relationship with Neptune, seeing the numismatic evidence as consistent with Republican coinage in general. A late witness to the association of a single commander with Neptune is Lactantius (Inst. Div. 1.11) who writes of how Marcus Antonius' command against the pirates was likened to the assignment of Neptune (Neptunii sorte).

6. Cf. App. BC 4.25 for Vetulinus taking refugees from proscriptions and confiscations to Sextus Pompey in Sicily. See also ibid. 4.36.

7. Welch 2012, 163–97.

8. For the pact of Misenum, see CAHX² 20–21; Vell. 2.77.2; App. BC 5.72; D.C. 48.36.4–5.

9. App. BC 5.77.

10. Gel. 5.6.21–23; Beard 2007, 63.

11. App. BC 3.88–94; D.C. 46.43–45.

12. Philippi, see Suet. Aug. 13.1, 91.1; App. BC 4.108; D.C. 47.46.2–3.

13. Although the pact at Misenum had ended the blockade, Antony's failure to turn over the Peloponnesus to Sextus as agreed and the defection of Sextus' admiral Menodorus to Octavian led to a renewal of hostilities and the return of Sextus' grain blockade. Cf. CAH X² 24.

14. Plin. Nat. 9.55; Suet. Aug. 96.2; D.C. 49.5.5. Hekster and Rich (2006, 160 n. 54) point out that the words used by Pliny and Dio—vates and μάντεις, respectively—stand in for haruspices, which, given Suetonius' (Aug. 96.2) report of another such pre-battle omen interpretation, is likely. Suetonius, however, does not specifically mention haruspices in connection with the Sicilian prodigy. Sulla, too, marked his path to victory at Rome with similar haruspical predictions of success.

15. D.C. 49.15.

16. Sumi 2005, 193. See Syme 1939, 208; E. Gabba 1971, 139–60.

17. D.C. 49.15.1.

18. App. BC 5.132.

19. Plu. Sull. 6.6–7.

20. Ibid. On Vegoia, see de Grummond 2006, 30–31. Heurgon (1959, 42–43) places the famous prophecy of Vegoia, which warns of calamities at the end of a saeculum, at the time of the Social War. See also Pfiffig 1961, 60. On signs of the transition from one saeculum to another, see chapter 1, n. 49, in the present book.

21. D.C. 49.15.2: ταῦτα μὲν εὐθύς σφισι μετὰ τὴν νίκην ἔδοξεν, ἤγγειλαν δὲ αὐτὴν πρῶτον μὲν στρατιώτης τις τῶν ἐν τῇ πόλει τότε ὄντων, κάτοχος ἐν αὐτῇ ἐκείνῃ τῇ ἡμέρᾳ ἐκ θεοῦ δή τινος γενόμενος, καὶ ἄλλα τε πολλὰ καὶ εἰπὼν καὶ πράξας, καὶ τέλος ἔς τε τὸ Καπιτώλιον ἀναδραμὼν καὶ τὸ ξίφος πρὸς τοὺς τοῦ Διὸς πόδας ὡς μηκέτ᾽ αὐτοῦ χρείας οὔσης θείς, ἔπειτα δὲ καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι οἱ παραγενόμενοί τε ἐν αὐτῇ καὶ πεμφθέντες ἐς τὴν Ῥώμην ὑπὸ τοῦ Καίσαρος. For the Capitolium, see map 1 in the present book.

22. See map 1. Suetonius (Aug. 29.3) reported, templum Apollonis in ea parte Palatinae domus excitavit, quam fulmine ictam desiderari a deo haruspices pronuntiarant. For the most recent detailed discussion of this temple foundation, see Hekster and Rich 2006, 149–68.

23. D.C. 49.5.5.

24. Plu. Sull. 6.6–7.

25. RG 10.2.

26. App. BC 5.131.1; D.C. 49.15.3.

27. D.C. 49.15.1 (trans. E. Cary): καὶ οἱ ἐν τῷ ἄστει ἐπαίνους τε αὐτῷ ὁμοθυμαδὸν καὶ εἰκόνας καὶ προεδρίαν ἁψῖδά τε τροπαιοφόρον, καὶ τὸ ἐφ᾽ ἵππου ἐσελάσαι τό τε στεφάνῳ δαφνίνῳ ἀεὶ χρῆσθαι, καὶ τὸ τῇ ἡμέρᾳ ἐν ᾗ ἐνενικήκει, ἱερομηνίᾳ ἀιδίῳ οὔσῃ, ἐν τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Καπιτωλίου μετά τε τῆς γυναικὸς καὶ μετὰ τῶν παίδων ἑστιᾶσθαι ἔδωκαν. Note the difference between Appian's (5.130) specific reference to the Senate and Dio's vague οἱ ἐν τῷ ἄστει. Appian's version is to be preferred not only because of its specificity but also because the Senate's role in conferring these honors is consistent with its role in conferring extraordinary honors on Caesar after his civil war victories. Cf. D.C. 43.14.4–6, 44.4–7.

28. Dio (48.31.5) mentions statues of Octavian that were toppled by Pompey's partisans in 40 BCE. One of the statues voted on for Octavian's arrival in 36 was crafted to match his appearance during his entry into the city.

29. The display of particular images was a political statement indicating one's personal and factional loyalties. Caesar brought out images of Marius at the funeral of his aunt Julia. Cf. Plu. Caes. 5.2.

30. On Caesar's ovation, see Plu. Caes. 60.3; Suet. Jul. 79.1–2; App. BC 2.108. On the ovations of Antony and Octavian, see D.C. 48.31.2–3. Humphrey and Reinhold (1984, 62) restored RG 4.1 on the Monumentum Ancyranum to read, Δὶς ἐφ᾽ ἴππου ἐθριάμβευσα καὶ τρὶς ἐφ᾽ ἅρματος. Gellius (5.6.27) noted that authors disagreed on the issue of whether Augustus was on foot or horseback when he celebrated these ovations. See Reinhold 1988, 35–36.

31. Interestingly, the Romans had already extended Octavian a similar honor for his victory in the Perusine War. Cf. D.C. 48.16.1–2. Dio specifies that Octavian could wear the laurel crown on occasions when tradition allowed triumphators the privilege. Thus the honor in 36 may have expanded the initial grant to cover any occasion. Caesar, too, was extended the honor of wearing the laurel crown. Cf. D.C. 43.43.1; Suet. Jul. 45.2.

32. Caesar received the same honor. Cf. D.C. 42.19.3.

33. On the cena adventicia, see Pl. Bac. 94, 185–86, 536; Hor. Carm. 1.36; Suet. Vit. 13; Philarg. ad Verg. Ecl. 5.74; Versnel 1970, 119–20; Donahue 2004, 9.

34. App. BC 5.130: καὶ ὑπήντων ὅτι πορρωτάτω καὶ αὐτοὶ καὶ ὁ δῆμος ἐστεφανωμένοι, ἔς τε τὰ ἱερὰ καὶ ἐκ τῶν ἱερῶν ἐς τὴν οἰκίαν ἀπιόντα παρέπεμπον.

35. The people of Athens sailed out to Carystus in large warships to bear Athenion, representative of king Mithradates, back to the city on a silver-footed litter. Cf. Posidon. F253 35–36.

36. Plu. Ant. 11.1.

37. RG 12.1: ex senatus auctoritate pars praetorum et tribunorum plebis cum consule Q. Lucretio et principibus viris obviam mihi missa est in Campaniam, qui honos ad hoc tempus nemini praeter me est decretus.

38. See n. 34. In Hellenistic parousia, the distinguished visitor was often extended the privilege of residing in the most luxurious house in the city. The Athenians put up Athenion in the home of the wealthy Diês. Cf. Posidon. F253 53.

39. App. BC 5.130: κατήγγελλέ τε εἰρήνην καὶ εὐθυμίαν, ἐς τέλος τῶν ἐμφυλίων ἀνῃρημένων.

40. D.C. 49.16.1.

41. Welch (2012, 163–97) argues persuasively that Pompey increasingly came to represent the Republican cause after Mutina.

42. Reinhold 1988, 36–37.

43. See n. 26.

44. There was no uniform protocol for meetings between the king and the people and the city's governing councils, but the king usually met with the populace of the city, and benefactions and honors were exchanged in the course of the king's visit. Cf. Plb. 16.25–26 for the visit of Attalus at Athens. After Attalus sacrifices, the city votes him honors (25.8) and invites him to an assembly to recite the list of his benefactions to the city, but he demurs (26.1). For interactions between Demetrius and Athens, see D.S. 20.46.1–4; Plu. Demetr. 10. On exchanges of honors and benefactions involving cities in the Roman Empire, see Lendon 1997, 73–89.

45. Caesar's honors for civil war victories, see Suet. Jul. 76; App. BC 2.106–7; D.C. 43.14.3–6, 44.4–7.

46. Scott 1931, 101–23. Gold and silver were generally reserved for statues of divinities, and many emperors would turn down the honor of such images as inappropriate for a mortal ruler.

47. Kondratieff 2004, 10–26. Cf. Zanker 1990, 41–42. Hekster and Rich (2006, 150 n. 8) suggest that RIC² I Augustus 271 may show this column.

48. App. BC 5.130: τὴν εἰρήνην ἐστασιασμένην ἐκ πολλοῦ συνέστησε κατά τε γῆν καὶ θάλασσαν. Reinhold (1988, 37) suggests the following Latin translation: pacem diu turbatam terra marique restituit.

49. Momigliano 1942, 63–64; Nicolet 1991, 31–37.

50. RG 4.2.

51. This award of tribunician sacrosanctitas has been the subject of intense debate. See Bauman 1981, 166–83. For a more recent survey of the scholarship on the evolution of Octavian's tribunician powers, see CAH X² 68–69. Dio (49.15.5) seems to connect it to the lightning that struck Octavian's property during the Sicilian War, which prompted Augustus to vow to build the Temple of Palatine Apollo. The religious nature of this sacrosanctitas is attested in the Senate's mission to appease Ceres at Henna in Sicily for its violation in connection with the career of Tiberius Gracchus. Spaeth (1990, 182–95) argues that the Senate was attempting to expiate Gracchus' offense in removing the tribune Octavius, whereas other scholars had argued, less plausibly, that the Senate was expiating the murder of Gracchus. For the latter view, see Gagé 1955, 389; McBain 1982, 38–39.

52. On Pompey's popularity among the people of Rome, see Welch 2012, 272–73. Pompeian ally M. Oppius received donations from lowly quarters when he was too poor to fulfill his duties as aedile. See Powell 1992, 153–54; Vio 1998, 31–34. App. BC 5.99 shows Octavian sending Maecenas to Rome to deal with the popular backlash in opposition to his expedition against Pompey in 36.

53. For Pompey as son of Neptune, see Powell, Welch, Gowing, et al. 2002, 19, 121, 123. On this “arms race” of divine associations, see Zanker 1990, 39–42.

54. Miller 2009, 19.

55. Reinhold (1988, 36) notes, “Extraordinary indeed was the honour he accepted of a banquet with his wife and children on the Capitolium annually on 3 September, as a day of thanksgiving.”

56. Donahue 2005, 102. For the Ludi Megalenses, noble Romans set up exclusive sodalitates to dine in honor of the Great Mother. Cf. Cic. Red. Sen. 45; Gel. 2.24.2; Versnel 1980, 108–11.

57. On Demetrius in the Parthenon, see Plu. Demetr. 23.3. Livy (26.19.5) describes Scipio as sitting in seclusion in the Capitoline Temple as though conferring with Jupiter before transacting any private or public business. For Scipio and Jupiter, see V. Max. 1.2.2; Liv. 26.19.3–8; Gel. 6.1.6; Walbank 1985, 120–37. Similar to Scipio, Augustus frequently visited the temple of Jupiter Tonans. See Suet. Aug. 91.2.

58. Pike 1920; Scott 1929, 140; 1933, 30–32; Taylor 1931, 118–121; Eitrem 1932, 42–43; Weinreich 1924–37, 804; Carter (1982), 92; Flory 1988, 352–57; Pollini 1990, 345; Bauman 1992, 95–96, 124; Gurval 1998, 94–98; Miller 2009, 30–39. On the use of this event in propaganda, see Scott 1933, 30–32. Scott (1933, 31) dates the banquet to the marriage of Octavian and Livia in 39, based on the line dum nova divorum cenat adulteria in Suetonius, and he dates the poem quoted by Suetonius to 38 BCE. Flory (1988, 353–57) pursues this line of argument further. The rumor and scandal surrounding the wedding, however, would still have been fodder for amusement in 36 BCE, Bauman's preferred date. Nothing in the poem (including the phrase nova adulteria) constrains the timing of the poem to the period during or directly after the marriage. An apt comparison would be Octavian's accusations against Antony regarding Cleopatra, which proved useful long after Octavian first became aware of the affair.

59. Suet. Aug. 70.

60. Miller (2009, 33–34) points to the parallels between Octavian's cena dodekatheos and the lectisternium held for the twelve Olympian gods after the disaster at Trasimene. See Liv. 22.10.9. The taint of religious impropriety attached to both Flaminius' defeat and the cena dodekatheos. In Livy, the dictator Fabius Maximus attributes the defeat to neglegentia caerimoniarum et auspiciorumque. Interestingly, the post-Trasimene lectisternium featured the Pompeian deities Neptune and Minerva sharing one of the six couches. Ludi Magni, similar in form to the Ludi Romani celebrated in connection with Octavian's ovation, were vowed at the same time (Liv. 22.10.8). The dictator Fabius Maximus vowed a temple to Sicily's Venus Erycina (Liv. 22.10.10). It is possible that the author of this poem about the cena dodekatheos sought specifically to recast the victory in the Sicilian War as a disaster on the order of the Trasimene defeat because, as a partisan of Pompey, he viewed the victory of Octavian as a similar blow to the Republic. On the lectisternium, see Latte 1960, 242–44; Beard, North, and Price 1998, 1:63; Liv. 5.13.6–8, 7.2.2, 7.27.1, 8.25.1; Macr. 1.6.13. Eitrem (1932, 42) prefers the model of the Hellenistic royal banquet over the lectisternium for the cena dodekatheos, but one might counter that there is no reason to exclude one option in preference of the other in a satirical poem.

61. Plu. Demetr. 23.3–24.1.

62. Slater (2012) has suggested that the poem was the product of an oral tradition.

63. Suet. Aug. 70.1: non Antoni modo epistulae singulorum nomina amarissime enumerantis exprobant. Of course, since we do not have Antony's letter, it is impossible to know whether Antony referred to this particular event or whether Suetonius drew an inference based on an allusion to another allegedly scandalous banquet.

64. Scott (1929, 140) opines that the cena would have been “exceptionally shocking to conservative Romans.” According to Suetonius, Catulus dreamed that he saw the child Octavian in the lap of Jupiter and commanded Octavian to be removed, only to have his order countermanded by Jupiter himself. See Suet. Aug. 94.8. One imagines the Catulus conjured in such anecdotes would have been outraged over Octavian and Livia dining with Jupiter. More disturbing by far, however, is the possible implication of incest between Apollo-Octavian and his mother Atia. Depending on how much creative license one is willing to grant to Suetonius, the mendacia in the poem at Aug. 70.1 may allude to Asclepiades of Mendes whom Suetonius cites at Aug. 94.4 as his source for the story of Atia copulating with Apollo in the form of a snake: In Asclepiadis Mendetis Theologumenon libris lego. In this reading, the adulteria are nova because the tale of Apollo fathering Octavian is of recent vintage. Cf. D.C. 45.1.2.

65. App. Pun. 66: εἱστία δὲ τοὺς φίλους, ὥσπερ ἔθος ἐστίν, ἐς τὸ ἱερόν.

66. Liv. 45.39.13: omnis illas victimas, quas traducendo in triumpho vindicavit, alias alios dente mactati. quid? illae epulae senatus, quae nec privato loco nec publico profano, sed in Capitolio eduntur, utrum hominum voluptatis causa an deorum…hominumque auctore Servio Galba turbaturi est? L. Pauli triumpho portae claudentur?

67. Miller 2009, 37.

68. Italian inscriptions identify the cena as a public banquet, but one usually given to members of the elite. The term epulum was used for public banquets given to the broader public. See Dunbabin 2003, 79, 82–82. In this instance, cena identifies the banquet as one restricted to elites, while secretior indicates its seclusion.

69. Suet. Vit. 13.2 depicts the excesses of the cena adventicia given to celebrate Vitellius' arrival at Rome. Vitellius was given a giant platter of food that he called the “Shield of Minerva, Defender of the Polis” (clipeum Minervae πολιούχου). This anecdote demonstrates Suetonius' appreciation of the shock value of transgressive religious imagery used in a cena adventicia in a manner that is parallel to the transgression perceived in the cena dodekatheos.

70. Speyer (1986, 1794–95) offers 40, 39, or 38/37 as possible dates. Barrett (2002, 26) includes 36 as a possible date for the banquet, because famine reportedly occurred that year.

71. Suet. Aug. 70.2; NTDAR s.v. Apollo Tortor.

72. Cicero (Att. 5.16) describes the contrast between his warm welcome in Cilicia and the locals' disparagement of his predecessor. Tacitus (Ann. 6.42) reports the praise heaped on Tiridates during his arrival at Seleucia as new king of Armenia and the insults slung at his predecessor. Menandor Rhetor's (378.13–26) instructions on arrival speeches include guidance on subtly disparaging predecessors of the new imperial governor.

73. Two such unflattering triumphal anecdotes are Pompey's problem with elephants (Plu. Pomp. 14.4) and the witty barbs of Caesar's soldiers (Suet. Jul. 51).

74. Plu. Ant. 24. Velleius (2.82.4) also describes a procession in Alexandria in which Antony dressed as Dionysus and rode in a Bacchic chariot.

75. Cf. Plu. Ant. 24.3 for the costumed greeters. For his low company and misdirected largesse, cf. ibid. 24.1–2, 4–5.

76. Lendon 1997.

77. Scott (1933, 32) comments on the parallels between the propaganda from the two sides as being “too striking to be accidental.” Not only is there a parallel in the twisting of divine identities in advent acclamations, but there is also a parallel in scandalous banquets. Velleius (2.83.2) comments that Plancus appeared at one of Antony's banquets as Glaucus the Nereid, naked but for blue paint and a reed crown.

78. On acclamations, see Roueché 1984, 182–83. The returning exiles who were paraded in Sulla's triumph acclaimed him “savior” and “father.” The acclamations discussed in chapter 4 of the present book were the source of tensions during Caesar's ovation of January 44. On that occasion, Caesar was hailed as rex. Of particular interest in the time of Augustus is Livy's account (5.49.7) of the triumphing Camillus being greeted as Romulus ac parens patriae, conditorque. This acclamation fits post-Actium Augustan ideology, wherein divine associations were sublimated and wherein emphasis was placed on likening the princeps to Rome's founders and Republican heroes, Camillus being prominent among them, particularly in Livy. Later, Nero's Augustiani hailed him as the New Apollo (Suet. Nero 25, 53; D.C. 62.20). Nero may not have been an innovator in this to the degree that one might suppose. As Miller (2000, 409–22) has shown, the last Julio-Claudian emperor was consciously, albeit creatively, imitating Augustus during this most unusual of triumphs.

79. Scott 1933, 30.

80. In the cena dodekatheos, Augustus is pro Apolline ornatum, a phrase that recalls the ornatus Iovis of the triumphator. The traditional modern scholarly assumption has been that the triumphator's garb assimilated him to Jupiter. See Fowler 1916, 153–57. Livy (10.7.10) described the triumphator as ornatus Iovis. Beard (2007, 229–32) points to the tenuousness of the evidence supporting these assumptions and raises important doubts. Her salutary deconstruction of them does not, however, entirely preclude the possible identification of the triumphator with Jupiter. Beard's critique aims at assumptions regarding the origins of the triumph.

81. Plu. Mar. 12.5.

82. Miller (2009, 18) describes the evidence as “equivocal.”

83. Gurval 1998, 87–110.

84. Although the myth of Apollo's relationship with Augustus grew over time, there is no reason to suppose that earlier versions were less fantastic. The willingness of Sextus Pompey's partisans to use a statue of Neptune as part of a demonstration against Octavian shows the broad appeal and utility of such identifications, making a conservative position, such as Gowing's (1992, 309–10) cautious take on Pompey and Neptune, less attractive.

85. RRC 511/2, 511/4. See n. 5.

86. RRC 537/2, 538/2. For discussion, see Miller 2009, 19.

87. Vell. 2.81.3; Suet. Aug. 29.1, 3; D.C. 49.15.5; NTDAR s.v. Apollo Palatinus, Aedes; TDAR s.v. Apollo Palatinus, Aedes.

88. Gurval (1995, 15) calls it “a public expression of Octavian's personal devotion to the god.” Gowing (1997, 638–40) cautions against Gurval's minimalist view regarding the role of Actium in Augustan ideology, by pointing out that the poets had Augustus in mind as primary reader when they wrote of Actium.

89. The timing of the acquisition of the property is unclear, but Velleius' account (2.81.3), which refers to contractas emptionibus complures domos, seems, through use of the perfect passive participle, to indicate a time before the announcement (professus est) and possibly, although admittedly less securely, before his return (Caesar reversus). Hekster and Rich (2006, 150–51) view the lightning strike and consultation of the haruspices, which most likely followed the purchase of the property, as possibly having occurred while Octavian was still in Sicily.

90. Suet. Aug. 29.3; D.C. 49.15.5. Hekster and Rich (2006, 151–52, 155–60) disassociate the temple vow from the victory by pinning the reason for the temple entirely on the lightning strike. Miller (2009, 23) argues that the tradition of the temple built from manubiae is still being evoked here. Santangelo (2013, 140) sums up well the open questions regarding the haruspices: “It is unclear whether the consultation happened in a public or private framework and whether the advice to dedicate a temple to Apollo was given by the haruspices or was Octavian's idea.” On the lightning strike, see Rüpke 2010, 217: “Only a public space could be made sacer, that is, turned into divine property, by the rite of consecratio (consecration).” Scheid (2003, 25), on the authority of Fest. 257 L, defines this space as religiosus. See also Rives 2011, 175–80.

91. See n. 27 on the Senate's role in this process.

92. Hekster and Rich 2006, 155–62.

93. See Wiseman 2009, 72–78. Gellius (5.12.11–12) comments on Apollo's resemblance to Veiovis.

94. On the Asylum of Romulus, see LTUR 1.130; Cic. Div. 2.40; Liv. 1.8.5; D.H. 2.14.4; Str. 5.3.2; Vell. 1.8.5; Plu. Rom. 9.3.

95. Ov. Fast. 3.429–34.

96. See Weinstock 1971, pl. 2.1–2; ILS 2988 = ILLRP 270.

97. Weinstock 1971, 8–11. Serv. A. 1.267 derives Iulus' name from both ἰοβόλος and ἴουλος.

98. Suetonius (Gram. 17) refers to the tutor Marcus Verrius Flaccus teaching Gaius and Lucius Caesar in the hall of the house of Catulus, which is identified as part of Augustus' residence (MAR s.v. Domus: Augustus, 104).

99. Rowland 1966, 410–11; Syd. 732–33.

100. Sal. Hist. 3.48.9M.

101. Wiseman 2009b, 69–72, 77–78. Dionysius of Halicarnassus (2.15.3–4) reports that Romulus established his asylum in honor of “some god” as a specious pretext for gathering the refugees from other Italian communities. The most likely candidate for that god is Veiovis. See also Ogilvie 1965, 8; Altheim 1938, 255–63; Koch 1937, 82–85.

102. Rowland 1966, 407–8.

103. Suet. Aug. 94.

104. On Augustus’ demolition of Pollio's villa at Rome, see Ov. Fast. 6.645–48. On Pollio's cruelty in feeding slaves to his lampreys at his villa near Naples, see Plin. Nat. 9.39; Sen. Cl. 1.18.2; D.C. 52.23.2. For a discussion of the cultural meaning of the demolition of prominent Romans' homes, see Roller 2010, 117–80.

105. Miller (2009, 23–24) doubts that Octavian's appropriation of Apollo was a conscious continuation of Julius Caesar's own promotion of the god, arguing that the evidence for the latter is weak. Caesar's theological choices, however, do not necessarily constrain Octavian's construction of his own Julian theology.

106. According to Caesar (Civ. 3.105) divine manifestations heralded his victory over Pompey. Bowersock (1965, 9) attributes these to Caesarian partisans in the East. See D.C. 41.61.

107. Alföldi (1972, 215–30) argued for the identification of Veiovis and Jupiter-Apollo as a symbol of the new saeculum from the late second century into the first century, including on Marian coinage. The fragmentary statue of Veiovis excavated from the site of the temple of the god at the corner of the Tabularium has been described as Apolline in appearance. See Holland 1961, 188; Colini 1942. Ovid (Fast. 3.429–48) emphasizes the youth of the god in his description. His Veiovis is a Jupiter iuvenis. The association with a new age is appropriate given the feast day of the god on January 1. See Scullard 1981, 56, for the feriae of Veiovis.

108. Wiseman 2009b, 79. Wiseman, following Walt (1997, 236), sees Licinius Macer's account of the first ovatio as the precedent for Crassus' honor of wearing the laurel in his own ovation in 71. Wiseman attributes Licinius Macer's decision to put a laurel on Postumius (D.H. 5.47.3) to his independent spirit, but it is also possible that Macer made his celebrator of the little triumph wear the crown of the little Jupiter (Veiovis-Apollo) because of Macer's interest in Veiovis. Coins minted by L. Julius Bursio in 85 BCE depict Veiovis wearing a laurel crown. See Syd. 728a–e. Alföldi (1997, 55), however, questions identifying Veiovis with the god on the Bursio denarii, which he characterizes as “pantheistic.” The iconography of Veiovis—which included curly locks, arrows, a traveler's cloak, and a female goat—lent itself easily to identification with other deities. Augustus' honor of wearing the laurel crown on the occasion of his return in 36 could follow this proposed tradition of association with Veiovis-Apollo in the ovation.

109. On laurel and Hercules, see Macr. 3.12.1–4; Serv. A. 2.276.

110. On the double ovation of Antony and Octavian, see ILLRP 562a = CIL X.5159; Sumi 2005, 196; Osgood 2006, 191. See also chapter 4 n. 59 of this book.

111. See chapter 4.

112. Sumi 2005, 207.

113. App. BC 3.41; Lacey 1996a, 29–30.

114. Sumi 2005, 161–68.

115. D.C. 48.31.5, 48.48.5; Suet. Aug. 16.2; App. BC 5.100.416–17; Hor. Epod. 9.7. See Sumi 2005, 197, 315 n. 39.

116. The people retaliated by toppling images of Octavian and Antony. Cf. D.C. 48.31.5.

117. Scullard 1981, 196–97; Liv. 25.2.10.

118. Cic. Ver. 5.36; [Asc.] ad Ver. 1 p. 143 Orelli; V. Max. 17.4; Taylor 1939, 195–97. Wiseman (2005, 51–53) argues for an origin of the games in the fifth century BCE, against the third century date assigned by Bernstein (1998, 79–80, 158–63).

119. Scullard 1981, 197–98.

120. Serv. A. 8.564: in huius templo Tarracinae sedile lapideum fuit, in quo hic versus incisus erat: ‘Bene meriti servi sedeant, surgant liberi’; quam Varro Libertatem deam dicit, Feroniam quasi Fidoniam.

121. App. BC 5.132.

122. For the sea-blue chlamys, see D.C. 48.48.5. Dio also relates the rumor that Sextus may have engaged in human sacrifice, just as Octavian supposedly did after the defeat of Perusia.

123. The ovation was held in November of 36, and Pompey met his end in Miletus in 35. On the latter, see App. BC 5.144.

124. After Octavian learned of the execution of Sextus Pompey, he extended to Antony and his family the honor of banqueting in the Temple of Concord, a gesture that simultaneously recognized the accomplishment while expressing a desire, however real, for peace between the remaining two triumvirs. It was also clearly an inferior honor to the one extended to Octavian and his family. See D.C. 49.18.6. As Reinhold (1988, 36) notes, Octavian's annual banquet and the epulum Iovis were separate events. The former was held on September 3, the date of the victory.