Augustus

As he settled down to an indefinite reign as the de facto monarch of the east, amid the uncompetitive luxuries of Alexandria, Antony must have thought of Rome with annoyance and distaste. He could do without the scratchy tetchiness of triumviral politics. His supporters in the capital were perfectly capable of looking after his interests without him having to go there in person.

But was that all there was to be said about Antony’s continuing absence? Perhaps something more sinister was at work than his characteristic idleness. Information was coming in that the eastern portion of Rome’s empire was rearming. Antony commanded twenty-five legions, although after the Parthian disaster some were very weak in numbers. He had recently recruited five more, making a grand total of thirty legions.

All this could well have an obvious and innocent explanation—namely, that before he renewed the Parthian war Antony had to make good his losses, especially given that Octavian was continuing to withhold the Italian legions he had long promised. However, Antony was also investing heavily in warships. Tellingly, he issued a series of coins, each with the number of one of his legions and backed by a warship. What could he need a vast armada for, if not to invade the western empire?

However, if that was the idea, its execution would not be immediate, for the Parthian aftermath was attracting all Antony’s attention. In the spring of 34 B.C., the Romans stormed into Armenia. The king, who had betrayed Antony during the failed invasion, quickly caved in. He and his two younger sons were taken prisoner, probably lured into a meeting and kidnapped. Here at last was a success—too easily won to make much of, one would have thought, but a success all the same. Armenia was turned into a Roman province and the country was opened up to trade and economic exploitation.

Dispatches were sent to Rome, but the mood there had altered since 36 B.C. and the insincere festivities that marked the Parthian “victory” of that year. Octavian (sensing that pretense was no longer appropriate or necessary), the Senate, and the people of Rome honored Antony’s genuine achievement in Armenia with a studied and stony silence. After all, Crassus’ standards were still in Parthian hands and, indeed, had been joined by some of Antony’s.

Back in Alexandria, though, it was time to celebrate.

Having dealt with the Iapudes, Octavian marched east to fight the Pannonian tribes in the interior beyond Illyricum. It is not entirely clear what they had done to deserve his attention. Dio has his own bleak take on the triumvir’s motives: “He had no complaint against them [the Pannonians], not having been wronged by them in any way, but he wanted to give his soldiers practice and to support them at the expense of an alien people.”

There is something in that, but it may also have occurred to Octavian and his military planners that control of the coastal strip of Illyricum would not of itself secure Rome’s dominance; permanent mastery demanded a defensible frontier. The obvious candidate was the river Danube, which bordered the far or northeastern end of Pannonia. Eventually, this meant that Pannonia would have to become a Roman province. However, that was a long-term aspiration; for now, Octavian probably wanted to spy out the land and estimate how difficult a permanent conquest might be.

The legions were making for the Pannonian fortress of Siscia, at the confluence of the Colapis and Savus (Save) rivers. Octavian hoped a display of force would suffice to elicit surrender. However, the infuriated tribesmen harassed the Romans mercilessly. In response, Octavian burned the villages and crops he came across and took all the booty that could be found.

On two sides, the Colapis and Savus made Siscia nearly impregnable, but on the third there was a gap between the rivers that was fortified with a palisade and a ditch. The Romans attacked simultaneously by water and on land. The defenders learned that the Romans had successfully brought over a number of tribes to their side; the news made them lose heart and they quickly negotiated a surrender. Meanwhile the Roman fleet had defeated the Adriatic pirates and killed or enslaved coastal tribes.

As the campaigning season of 35 drew to a close, Octavian was able to congratulate himself on a successful year. He left a garrison of more than two legions to hold Siscia, and returned to Rome to spend the winter on civilian business.

To have defeated some barbarian tribes was good, but hardly glamorous. He decided to stage an invasion of the island of Britannia (following up his adoptive father’s brief forays ten years earlier). It lay on the edge of the known world and its remoteness exerted a great fascination on the Roman mind; the conquest would be a coup.