Judged to be historically superficial, marred by an overbearing urge to please the emperor Tiberius, and a vehicle for imperial propaganda, Velleius’ work has been given generally short shrift in or omitted from most discussions of Roman historical writing. This disdain, unfortunately reflected in the paucity of English translations of Velleius, has certainly been tempered in light of reevaluations of his work. Tony Woodman’s magisterial commentaries on Book 2, in particular, represented a watershed moment, both restoring a measure of dignity to Velleius and signaling the profound importance of this historian to our understanding of the Augustan and Tiberian periods.
One particularly interesting aspect of the brief Historia (contained in two books yet covering the period from the founding of Rome down to 29 ce) is in the manner it bridges and even masks the transition from republic to principate. In much the same way as the texts of Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus reflect the circumstances of their production, the value of Velleius lies in his place as one of the chief literary artefacts of the immediate post-Augustan era and thus a product of the emerging principate. His perspective is valuable, for it furnishes an antidote to the dark cynicism of the later Tacitus, who has few doubts that the Augustan principate sounded the death knell of the Roman republic. Modern readers, however, tend to find the cynical Tacitean view, which is admittedly expressed in a powerful and engrossing narrative, more attractive if not more credible, the generally cheery optimism of Velleius looking strained and suspicious in comparison with the detached stance and pessimism of Tacitus.
Putting aside all cynicism, however, and reading Velleius in context rather than in hindsight, one hears the voice of a man who not only takes his task with some seriousness but also believes with equal seriousness that the republic survives under Tiberius - that the Tiberian period represents the true fulfillment of the Augustan promise to ‘‘restore the republic,’’ not the creation of a separate, distinct political entity we call the principate. I have argued this particular point elsewhere (Gowing 2005: esp. 34-48). In the present chapter, however, I suggest that one especially valuable way to read Velleius is as a sort of freshly conceived ‘‘exemplary’’ history, one that rethinks the function of exempla. (On exempla and exemplary history see Chaplin 2000; with special reference to the present argument, David 1998b.)
The notion that the bulk of Velleius’ Historia is essentially prolegomenal to his account of the reign of Tiberius is hardly new. But I am less interested in why that should be the case than in how certain elements - specifically, noteworthy historical personalities - anticipate Velleius’ characterization of the emperor. For rather than aiming his narrative at a reader imagined to be in need of moral edification, as Livy had done, Velleius uses the standards and models of the republican past as a foil for his main character, the emperor Tiberius. Thus I agree with those who stress the ‘‘moralizing’’ qualities of Velleius’ Historia (e. g., Andre 1966; Hellegouarc’h 1964) over the overtly political (e. g., Lana 1952), though for different reasons. In consequence Tiberius emerges not so much an ‘‘emperor’’ in the modern (or even Tacitean) sense as merely an exceptional princeps, the best sort of leading citizen the republic has to offer and a man who embodies and perfects all the virtues collectively exhibited by the personalities of the past - the optimus princeps, as Velleius calls him (2.126.5, discussed below). Tiberius therefore supplants Augustus as the paradigm of the good emperor: the work concludes with a prayer entreating the gods to make Tiberius, not Augustus, the model for all future emperors (2.131.2).
Enumerating the virtues of Tiberius is in consequence central to Velleius’ task. As is true of most such endeavors, especially in a Roman context, a man’s virtues must be measured against the standards of the past. This drive to evaluate character and achievement through comparison and contrast with the great personalities and events of the past is of course the cornerstone of the Roman ethical system, manifested in the exempla tradition. As has often been discussed, republican exempla took on renewed significance under Augustus. But what meaning do the great men of the republic have for Augustus’ successor, Tiberius?
To begin where Velleius ends: with Tiberius. Tiberius embodies myriad virtues (fully catalogued and discussed by Kuntze 1985) that conspire to delineate the ideal citizen and leader - a princeps, in other words, but in its republican sense as a ‘‘leading man in the state’’ (for princeps and related terms see Gowing 2005: 40; Timpe 1987: 74; Kuntze 1985: 164-166). When Tiberius first enters the narrative, in the year 24 bce when the future emperor was elected quaestor, Velleius accords him a complete character sketch, where we learn the essential qualities of the future emperor: well-educated and handsome, a commanding presence, naturally gifted - a man who in his youth gave one reason to hope he would turn out to be as great as he in fact is (note the present tense est), the very sight of whom betokened his future role as princeps (2.94.2):
Tiberius Claudius Nero [was] reared on teachings imparted through heavenly instruction, a young man of breeding, good looks, and imposing stature, splendidly equipped with the best education and tremendous natural talent, who early on had given promise of being as great as he is and in appearance had revealed a princeps...
As the passage goes on to state, in the course of discharging his earliest duties - overseeing the grain supply as quaestor, traveling to Armenia in 20 bce to deal with problems there, and then dispatched by Augustus in 15 bce to subdue the Raeti and Vindelici - he revealed himself to be a capable administrator, diplomat, and general (2.94.3-95.2). As Christ (2001, esp. 190-192) has argued, one accomplishment of the Historia Romana is to connect the two periods of Tiberius’ career, that under Augustus, prior to his becoming emperor, and that of his early principate - two periods often unjustly decoupled in modern assessments of Tiberius.
As Tiberius ages, these qualities merely become more apparent, more mature. A brief reference to his involvement in the Pannonian War of 13-9 bce confirms Tiberius’ status as a ‘‘great general’’ (tanti imperatoris, 2.96.3). Similarly in Germany, in the wake of the disastrous defeat of Marcus Lollius and following the death in 9 bce of his brother Drusus, to whom the war had originally been entrusted, Tiberius is given full scope to display his virtus and fortuna (2.97.4; cf. 2.121.1). The combination is unusual in Velleius, but links Tiberius with Octavian, the future Augustus, who also enjoys both virtus and fortuna (2.74.4); the only other character so credited is Scipio Aemilianus (on whom see further below; cf. also Woodman 1977 on 2.97.4; Schmitzer 2000: 205-206 with notes; Lana 1952: 221-231; Kuntze 1985: 69-70; Christ 2001: 181; Hellegouarc’h 1964: 676-678).
Even Tiberius’ retirement to Rhodes in 6 bce, a potentially embarrassing moment (tactfully configured as a ‘‘more honorable leisure,’’ 2.99.4) and therefore given relatively short shrift, serves as an opportunity to stress the value of the soon-to-be-emperor to the state (2.99.1-2):
Shortly thereafter Tiberius Nero, having now completed two consulships and the same number of triumphs, made the equal of Augustus by sharing tribunician power, the most eminent of citizens save for one (and this, because he wished it), the greatest of leaders, distinguished in fame and fortune, and truly the second light and head of the republic, moved by some wondrous, incredible, and ineffable piety, had sought from him who was father-in-law as well as stepfather leave to rest from his continuous labors. The reason for this proposal was concealed, though soon detected: since Gaius Caesar had already donned the toga virilis as likewise Lucius shortly would, [Tiberius worried] that his own lustre would obscure the early careers of these rising young men.
Apart from a continuing assertion of Tiberius’ military talent, this passage features a new side, his ability to be an emperor. Thus he is ‘‘equated’’ with Augustus, yet Velleius carefully insists that Tiberius himself was content to be ‘‘second best’’ (see Schmitzer 2000: 230-231). Despite that, the qualities ascribed to Tiberius in this passage set him quite apart from Augustus. For example, while Tiberius is identified as the ‘‘second light and head of the republic,’’ the only other characters to whom a similar phrase is applied are Pompey the Great and Julius Caesar (2.52.3), not Augustus. Pietas is almost exclusively a Tiberian quality, never, as one might expect, associated with Augustus; and Tiberius’ pietas is without exception extravagantly qualified: rectissima, incredibilis, inenarrabilis (2.105.3, 125.5, 99.2; for pietas in Velleius, see Woodman 1977 on 2.105.3; Kuntze 1985: 124-129). The same is true of maiestas, credited to Tiberius later in this passage (2.99.4) as well as on three other occasions (2.124.1, 126.2, 129.3), never to Augustus and rarely to anyone else.
Tiberius returned from Rhodes in 2 ce and in the wake of the deaths of Lucius and Gaius Caesar was adopted two years later in 4 ce by Augustus, an event that ushered in a new era of hope, ultimately realized, for prosperity and stability (2.103.3-5). In that same year, 4 ce, Velleius began a nine-year period of service in the army under Tiberius. As general, Tiberius continues to garner praise for a litany of rare virtues, several peculiar to Tiberius alone - felicitas (only of Tiberius; see Kuntze 1985: 66-67), cura (2.106.3), prudentia (2.111.4 bis, a quality he shares with Pompey, on which see below), temperamentum (2.111.4, cf. 2.130.1, only of Tiberius), humanitas (2.114.1) - and yet he emerges a man who showed himself to be as great a general during war as he was a princeps in peace (2.113.1). For the most part these observations about Tiberius’ soldierly expertise begin to seem repetitive, but here too we encounter a quality that differentiates Tiberius, providentia, a word that appears on only two other occasions (2.66.5, 112.4; cf. Woodman 1977 on 2.115.5; Kuntze 1985: 77-82).
With the death of Augustus in 14 ce (2.123), Tiberius’ political acumen comes to the fore. In the few remaining chapters Velleius sketches the general character of Tiberius’ reign down to the point at which the work concludes (29 ce; for the organization of the account of Tiberius’ reign proper, and the concluding date, see Woodman 1977: 234 and on 2.126.1 respectively; cf. Elefante 1997 on 2.126). For our purposes, the most significant moment comes in the panegyrical 2.126 summarizing the Tiberian period. I would draw particular attention to the last sentence: the emperor - not merely princeps, but the optimus princeps (implying that there are other principes, an important though seldom noted point) - leads by example: exemplo maior est (2.126.5). As Shipley renders it, Tiberius is ‘‘still greater in the example which he sets,’’ but the phrase admits a slightly different interpretation as well: Tiberius is ‘‘greater than an exemplum.’ In sum, he has surpassed all those who have come before. Woodman (1977 on 2.126.5) notes that the ‘‘leader being an example to the rest'' is a common notion in ancient political thought (cf. Elefante 1997 on 2.126.5), but Velleius’ application of maior to Tiberius suggests that he is without precedent or equal (for optimus princeps, see Wirszubski 1950: 153-154).
Considered collectively, Tiberius' traits constitute an impressive if not wholly unprecedented list. It is instructive to observe that Tiberius possesses virtually all of the qualities identified by Litchfield 1914: 28 as integral to the Roman exempla tradition. Moreover, while Tiberius’ virtues may be largely generic, especially in an imperial context (and thus readily paralleled), within the text ofVelleius itselfTiberius outstrips everyone else in the extent and number of his qualities and the nature of his achievements. It must further be borne in mind that Tiberius and the passages I have discussed occur in the final quarter or so of the second book, at the very end of the Historia. Prior to 2.94, when Tiberius enters the narrative, we will have encountered numerous luminaries from republican history. Velleius spends a considerable amount of time describing these individuals; many receive full-fledged introductions (Woodman 1977: 41). While no one individual ever matches Tiberius in all of his qualities, many display at least some of them. Here I focus on three representative paradigms: Scipio Aemilianus, Pompey the Great, and Cato the Younger.
It should be noted that Velleius himself constantly thinks in terms of historical comparisons and pairs, inviting the reader to reflect on shared personality traits, particularly between father and son or between brothers, or simply between men in comparable positions (cf. 1.11.6-7, 2.2.1-2, 15.3-4, 3.1, 21.1, 29.1, 26.1, 35.1-2, 6.1); such comparative thinking informs how Velleius approaches his task (see Schmitzer 2000: 81-85). A key to the rationale behind such comparisons - and a key to interpreting the Historia Romana generally - is found in one of the several digressions in his work, on the nature of the arts. In this famous passage he observes the absolute necessity of aemulatio (‘‘emulation’’) to the fostering of ingenia (‘‘talent’’: 1.17.6-7; cf. Schmitzer 2000: 72-74; Alfonsi 1966). This encourages the reader to think comparatively as well, to assess one character in terms of another. Inevitably, therefore, we compare Tiberius, the ‘‘last’’ character of the work (and the character with whom the work literally concludes), with his antecedents. Augustus, of course, offers an obvious point of comparison, and in certain respects we are induced to think comparatively about this pair too. But Augustus is not necessarily the paradigm against whom we are to measure Tiberius. Rather, as I have suggested, each of the many republican personalities we encounter exhibits qualities that collectively constitute the ideal, the best princeps, ultimately instantiated in Tiberius (cf. Kuntze 1985: 40 and passim).
Thus, to pursue one instance of a comparative exemplum, Scipio Aemilianus, the man who would destroy Carthage in 146 bce, is one of the several characters who prefigure Tiberius, as is apparent from Velleius’ brief character sketch (1.12.3):
P. Scipio Aemilianus, with respect to his virtues very much like his grandfather P. Africanus and his father L. Paulus, equipped with all the qualities suitable for both war and politics, the most eminent man of his time in terms of talent and learning, who neither did nor said nor felt anything at all in his life that was not praiseworthy. . .
This Scipio is rendered still more distinctive by the insertion of a comparatively lengthy eulogy, where he is identified as having led what was ‘‘undoubtedly the most distinguished life, surpassed in renown by no man up until that time save by the life of his grandfather’’ (2.4.2-7; cf. Kuntze 1985: 40). He shares with Tiberius the distinction of being a man fit for both war and politics (cf. 2.113.1, cited above), but most significantly he is singled out as ‘‘the most eminent man of his time.’’ Velleius identifies only two other men as eminentissimus: Tiberius Gracchus pere
(2.2.1) and the emperor Tiberius (2.99.1). And, of course, like Tiberius (at least in Velleius’ Historia), Scipio enjoyed an impeccable reputation as a general (1.12.4-6), sharing with only Tiberius and Augustus the distinction of possessing both virtus and fortuna (2.4.2, see above).
Scipio was a relatively unproblematic character, with mostly positive associations; Pompey the Great was another matter (Woodman 1983 on 2.49.3). On the one hand, he was the arch-rival of Julius Caesar, a man ultimately configured as the failed champion of the republic (and thus by definition an opponent of the principate), on the other, indisputably one of Rome’s greatest generals, even accorded a place among the summi viri in the Forum of Augustus. Space precludes quoting Velleius’ long introduction (2.29), but his respect is considerable. Pompey clearly has a good deal in common with Tiberius: he possesses magnitudo (here, and also at 2.48.2), a rare quality attributed only to Augustus (2.36.1) and Tiberius
(2.120.1) . Tiberius’ magnitudo, however, assumes a unique function, for it establishes the standard by which the emperor ‘‘measures’’ his accomplishments (2.120.1); he becomes, in effect, the only suitable model for himself, surpassing in ‘‘greatness’’ even those few who before him possessed magnitudo. Pompey is similarly credited with prudentia, another quality used almost exclusively of Tiberius, as we have seen (2.111.4 [bis], discussed above; 2.129.1). Like Scipio before him and Tiberius after him, he is equally at home in war and in peace (cf. Scipio at 1.12.3, Tiberius at 2.113.1). ‘‘Moderation’’ (modestissimus) is a quality shared by the republican general and the emperor (singularis moderatio, 2.122.1 [the only occurrence of this word: see Woodman ad loc.]; 2.94.3, 126.3); both are good-looking (cf. 2.94.2, quoted above); both capable generals. Pompey, in fact, operates as a sort of proto-princeps when entrusted in 67 bce with an authority that looks distinctly imperial (2.31.3). Significantly, Velleius uses this occasion to ruminate on the potential drawbacks of ‘‘one-man rule,’’ suggesting that the republic can accommodate such a circumstance, provided the right man is in place (further discussion in Gowing 2005: 37-38). Pompey, it turns out, is not that man, as Quintus Catulus shortly remarks in a reported speech delivered in opposition to Pompey’s command
(2.32.1) .
Thus while Pompey does have certain qualities in common with Tiberius, he is obviously the lesser man. This perhaps explains why Velleius’ introduction of Pompey features many qualities attributed exclusively to Pompey: he possesses innocentia and sanctitas, is tenax amicitiae and exorabilis. Some apparent similarities are tweaked in favor of Tiberius: Pompey receives power rather than takes it (2.29.3), which anticipates a similar statement made about Tiberius (‘‘to him alone did it befall to refuse the principate longer than others fought by arms to seize it’’: 2.124.1-2) - the difference is that Tiberius is never said to have ‘‘coveted’’ that power, whereas Pompey does (2.29.3). A salient characteristic of Tiberius is equality with other citizens (2.124.2); Pompey, by contrast, is ‘‘greater than a citizen’’ (2.31.1), a man who cannot abide living in a society of equals (2.29.4), the Tiberian ideal (2.126.2, 4). This, Velleius implies, was Pompey’s undoing and why he really did not represent the interests of the republic after all (2.48.4).
A still more problematic character, and another opponent of Julius Caesar as well as the man with whom the republican opposition under the principate would most closely identify, is Cato Uticensis. Like Pompey, he receives a formal introduction (2.35.1-4), the most striking aspect of which is Velleius’ emphasis on Cato’s virtus. While many characters in Velleius’ Historia display virtus, its appearance three times in this brief section is dramatic, especially in light of the unusual assertion that Cato was ‘‘a man most like Virtue itself’’ (2.35.2). He embodies virtus, the only apparent instance of its personification in the text (cf., however, 1.12.3). Tellingly, Velleius ascribes to Cato both virtus and fortuna, a collocation recurring in descriptions of Tiberius (2.97.4, 2.121.1) yet, as we have already had occasion to observe, exceptionally rare in those of other individuals, appearing most notably in connection with Octavian, the future Augustus. And as Tiberius was perceived to have done (2.124.1), Cato here saves the republic from ruina.
Yet as was true of Pompey, Velleius does locate a flaw in Cato, the quality that ultimately if only implicitly points to his political failure. As war breaks out between Caesar and Pompey in 48 bce, Cato, as consul, expresses his opinion that they should fight to the death rather than give in to one-man rule (2.49.3). Velleius does not miss the chance to editorialize: ‘‘An old-fashioned, serious man would praise the faction of Pompey more, the wise man would follow that of Caesar, and would recognize that the former carried with it greater glory, the latter greater fear,’’ 2.49.3). Clearly, Cato lacks prudentia - a quality Tiberius has in abundance as, ironically, did Cato’s choice, Pompey.
*
Even if he had wanted to, Velleius could not reject outright the value system of the republic. In this respect it is essential to recognize that Velleius shares with his coeval Valerius Maximus a heightened interest in republican exempla. The work of both writers attests a deep desire to reconcile the present with the past, to suggest unbroken connections rather than disengagement.
But writing history - especially a history that encompassed a degree of contemporary history - rendered Velleius’ task more problematic than that of Valerius, who for the most part eschews reference to the present. (For further discussion and comparison of the two, see Gowing 2005: ch. 2; see also Andre 1966, esp. 299, 308-309 and Jacquemin 1998.) Velleius had to find a means to accommodate the republican value system while at the same time formulate a new way to describe the virtues of a man who, despite being inclined to self-deprecation, was in an unparalleled position ofpower. The Tiberian period represented for Velleius not so much the perfection of a political system as the perfection of the princeps. Velleius’ Historia in effect narrates the genesis, therefore, not of the principate but of the princeps in a republic imagined to be fully restored. In the service of this ‘‘imperial republic’’ he recuperates from the past essentially positive qualities embodied in its most notable personalities, often glossing over or mitigating the negative. In the end, the Historia becomes proof of its own proposition that exempla do not stop where they begin, but rather may wander freely on a road they build for themselves (2.3.4). If Velleius would be loath to concede that Tiberius had now left the republic behind in favor of something new called the principate, his use of exempla nevertheless reveals just how much the political and cultural landscape had been altered. In his directorial hands, exempla cease to furnish paradigms in imitation of which the reader will become a good citizen of the republic, and merely substantiate the unparalleled greatness of the emperor, the princeps.
FURTHER READING
In large part my approach in this chapter is in line with the ‘‘narrative strategy’’ persuasively explored by Schmitzer, who demonstrates that Velleius’ work was oriented from the first line on towards the reign of Tiberius in the year 30 (2000: 287; cf. Elefante 1997: 36). He focuses less, however, on the force of personality as a factor in this program. See also Lana 1952: 231-241, explaining Velleius’ concentration on various principes from the republic as an attempt to ‘‘project the principate of Tiberius into a bygone era.’’ In many important respects Kuntze 1985 anticipates how I read Velleius.
Modern scholarship on Velleius is comparatively limited in scope. By far the most important contributions are the magisterial commentaries of Woodman 1977 and 1983; while these will be of use chiefly to those reading Velleius in Latin, the Introduction (1977: 3-56) covers all of the basic textual, biographical, and literary issues associated with Velleius. Similarly, readers will find a good general introduction in English in Woodman 1975a and Sumner 1970. Mention should also be made of the edition of Elefante 1997, which includes an introduction to and commentary on Velleius in Italian that are of high quality and reflect the many advances in the study of Velleius over the previous three decades (see the important review of Potter 1997). The treatment by Duff and Duff 1964: 67-81, though dated, is still worth reading. Apart from Lana 1952 (in Italian), a study that in many respects set the stage for subsequent work on Velleius, the most important book-length discussions are in German, Kuntze 1985 and especially Schmitzer 2000. For those who read German, the latter is perhaps the best overall study of Velleius currently available. A thorough bibliography of the scholarship on Velleius prior to 1984 may be found in Hellegouarc’h 1984; see also the substantial bibliography of Schmitzer 2000. The chief English translations remain those of Shipley 1924 and Watson 1852.