Divus Titus

1. Titus, whose cognomen was the same as his father’s, 1 had such winning ways – whether inborn, cultivated subsequently, or

conferred on him by fortune – that he became an object of universal

love and adoration. Oddly enough, this happened only after his accession: both as a private citizen and later as his father’s colleague, Titus had been not only unpopular but venomously

loathed. He was born on 30 December, the memorable year of

Gaius’ assassination, in a small, dingy, slum bedroom close to the

Septizonium.2 The house, which is still standing, has lately been opened to the public.

2. He grew up at court with Britannicus, sharing his teachers and

following the same curriculum. The story goes that when one day

Claudius’ freedman Narcissus called in a physiognomist to examine

Britannicus’ features and prophesy his future, he was told most emphatically that Britannicus would never be emperor, whereas

Titus (who happened to be present) would. The two boys were such

close friends that when Britannicus drank his fatal dose of poison,

Titus, who was reclining at the same table, is said to have emptied

the glass in sympathy and to have been dangerously ill for some

time. He never forgot his friendship for Britannicus, but had two statues of him made: a golden one to be installed in the palace, and

an ivory equestrian one which is still carried in the Circus

procession and which he personally followed around the ring at its

dedication.

3. When Titus came of age, the beauty and talents that had

distinguished him as a child grew even more remarkable. Though not tall, he was both graceful and digni ed, both muscular and handsome, except for a certain paunchiness a phenomenal memory,

and displayed a natural aptitude alike for the arts of war and peace;

handled arms and rode a horse as well as any man living; could compose speeches and verses in Greek or Latin with equal ease, and

actually extemporized them on occasion. He was something of a

musician too: he sang pleasantly, and had mastered the harp. It often amused him to compete with his secretaries at shorthand

dictation, or so I have heard; and he claimed that he could imitate

any handwriting in existence and might, in di erent circumstances,

have been the most celebrated forger of all time.

4. Titus’ reputation while an active and e cient military tribune

in Germany and Britain is attested by the numerous busts and

statues of him found in both provinces. After completing his military

service he returned to Rome, where he spent a great deal of time at

the law courts as an advocate – but only because it was a

respectable occupation, not because he meant to make a career of it.

The father of his rst wife, Arrecina Tertulla, although only of

equestrian rank, was a former prefect of the praetorian cohorts.

When she died, Titus married the very well–connected Marcia

Furnilla, whom he divorced as soon as she had borne him a

daughter. When his quaestorship at Rome ended, he went to

command one of his father’s legions in Judaea, and there captured

the forti ed cities of Tarichaeae and Gamala. In the course of the

ghting he had a horse killed under him, but mounted another

belonging to a comrade who fell at his side.

5. Titus was sent to congratulate Galba on his accession, and all

whom he met on the way thought that Galba had summoned him in

order to adopt him as his heir. Seeing, however, that a new

revolution threatened in Rome, Titus turned back from his journey,

and while consulting the oracle of Venus at Paphos about his voyage

he was con rmed in his hope of ruling. The prophecy grew much

more credible after his father had been acclaimed emperor and left

him to complete the conquest of Judaea. In the nal assault on Jerusalem Titus managed to kill twelve of the garrison with

successive arrows, and the city was captured on his daughter’s birthday. Titus’ prowess inspired such deep admiration in the troops

that they hailed him as imperator and, on several occasions, when he seemed on the point of relinquishing his command, begged him

either to stay or to let them follow him, even threatening violence if

he would not humour their wishes. Such passionate devotion

aroused a suspicion that he planned to usurp his father’s power in

the east, especially since he had worn a diadem while attending the

consecration of the Apis bull at Memphis on his way to Alexandria;

but this was a gross slander on his conduct, which accorded with ancient ritual. Titus sailed for Italy at once in a naval transport, touching at Rhegium and Puteoli. Hurrying on to Rome, he

exploded all the false rumours by greeting Vespasian, who had not

been expecting him, with the simple words ‘Here I am, Father, here

I am!’

6. From that point on he became his father’s colleague, almost

his guardian, sharing in the Judaean triumph, in the censorship, in

the exercise of tribunician power, and in seven consulships. He bore

most of the burdens of government and, in his father’s name, dealt

with o cial correspondence, drafted edicts, and even took over the

quaestor’s task of reading his speeches to the Senate. Titus also assumed command of the praetorians, a post which had always

before been entrusted to an eques, and in which he behaved somewhat violently and high–handedly. If anyone aroused his

suspicion, detachments of praetorians would be sent into theatre or

camp to demand the man’s punishment in the name of every loyal

citizen present, and he would then be executed on the spot. Titus disposed of Aulus Caecina, a former consul, by inviting him to dinner and having him stabbed on the way out of the dining room;

yet here he could plead political necessity – the manuscript of a disloyal speech which Caecina intended for the troops had fallen into his hands. Actions of this sort, although an insurance against the future, made Titus so deeply disliked at the time that perhaps no

more unwelcome claimant to the supreme power has ever won it.

7. He was believed to be pro igate as well as cruel, because of the riotous parties which he kept going with his more extravagant

friends far into the night; and lustful too, because he kept a troop of toy boys and eunuchs, and nursed a notorious passion for Queen Berenice, to whom he had allegedly promised marriage. He also had

a reputation for accepting bribes and not being averse to using in uence to settle his father’s cases in favour of the highest bidder.

It was even prophesied quite openly that he would prove to be a second Nero. However, this pessimistic view stood him in good

stead: as soon as everyone realized that here was no monster of vice

but an exceptionally noble character, public opinion ew to the opposite extreme.

His dinner parties, far from being orgies, were very pleasant

occasions, and the friends he chose were retained in o ce by his successors as key men for both their own a airs and those of the commonwealth. He immediately sent Berenice away from Rome,

which was painful for both of them, and broke o all relations with

some of his favourite boys; even though they danced well enough to

make a name for themselves on the stage, he never attended their

public performances.

No emperor could have been less of a robber than Titus, who

showed the greatest respect for private property and would not even

accept the gifts sanctioned by tradition. Nor had any of his

predecessors ever displayed such generosity. At the dedication of the Amphitheatre and the Baths, which had been hastily built beside

it, Titus provided a most lavish gladiatorial show; he also staged a sea ght on the old arti cial lake, and when the water had been let

out he used the basin for further gladiatorial contests and a wild–

beast hunt, 5,000 beasts of di erent sorts dying in a single day.

8. Titus was naturally kind–hearted, and though no emperor,

following Tiberius’ example, had ever consented to ratify individual

concessions granted by his predecessor unless these suited him

personally, Titus did not wait to be asked but signed a general edict

con rming all such concessions whatsoever. He also had a rule

never to dismiss any petitioner without leaving him some hope that

his request would be favourably considered. Even when warned by

his sta how impossible it would be to make good such promises,

Titus maintained that no one ought to go away disappointed from

an audience with the emperor. One evening at dinner, realizing that

he had done nobody any favour since the previous night, he spoke

these memorable words: ‘My friends, I have wasted a day.’

He took such pains to humour the people that on one occasion,

before a gladiatorial show, he promised to forgo his own preferences

and let the audience choose what they liked best; and he kept his

word by refusing no request and encouraging everyone to tell him

what each wanted. Yet he openly acknowledged his partisanship of

the Thracian school of gladiators, and would gesture and argue vociferously with the crowd on this subject, though never losing either his dignity or his sense of justice. Sometimes he would use

the new public baths, as a means of keeping in touch with the common people.

Titus’ reign was marked by a series of catastrophes – an eruption

of Mount Vesuvius in Campania, a re at Rome which burned for

three days and nights, and one of the worst outbreaks of plague that

had ever been known. Throughout these frightful disasters, he

showed far more than an emperor’s concern: it resembled the deep

love of a father for his children, which he conveyed not only in a

series of comforting edicts but by helping the victims to the utmost

extent of his purse. He set up a board of former consuls, chosen by

lot, to relieve distress in Campania, and devoted the property of those who had died in the eruption and left no heirs to a fund for

rebuilding the stricken cities. His only comment on the re at Rome

was ‘This has ruined me!’ He stripped his own mansions of their decorations, distributed these among the damaged temples and

public buildings, and appointed a body of equites to see that his orders were promptly carried out. Titus attempted to control the plague by every imaginable means, human as well as divine–

resorting to all sorts of sacri ces and medical remedies.

One of the worst features of Roman life at the time was the licence long enjoyed by informers and their managers. Whenever

Titus laid his hands on any such he had them well whipped,

clubbed, and then taken to the Amphitheatre and paraded in the arena, where some were put up for auction as slaves and the

remainder deported to desert islands. In further discouragement of

this evil, he allowed nobody to be tried for the same o ence under more than one law, and limited the period during which inquiries

could be made into the status of dead people.

9. He had promised before his accession to accept the o ce of

pontifex maximus as a safeguard against committing any crime, and

he kept his word. Thereafter he was never directly or indirectly responsible for a murder, and, although often given abundant

excuse for revenge, he swore that he would rather die than take life.

Titus dismissed with a caution two patricians convicted of aspiring

to the empire; he told them that, since this was a gift of destiny, they would be well advised to renounce their hopes. He also

promised them whatever else they wanted, within reason, and

hastily sent messengers to reassure the mother of one of the pair, who lived some distance away, that her son was safe. Then he invited them to dine among his friends, and the next day to sit close

by him during the gladiatorial show, where he asked them to test

the blades of the contestants’ swords brought to him for inspection.

Finally, the story goes, he consulted the horoscopes of both men and

warned them what dangers threatened from unexpected quarters –

quite correctly, as events proved.

Titus’ brother Domitian caused him endless trouble: he took part

in conspiracies, stirred up disa ection in the armed forces almost openly, and toyed with the notion of escaping from Rome and

putting himself at their head. Yet Titus had not the heart to execute

Domitian, dismiss him from court, or even treat him less honourably

than before. Instead, he continued to repeat, as on the rst day of his reign, ‘Remember that you are my partner and chosen successor,’

and often took Domitian aside, begging him tearfully to return the

a ection he o ered.

10. Death, however, intervened, which was a far greater loss to

the world than to Titus himself. At the close of the games he wept

publicly; he then set o for Sabine territory in a gloomy mood because a victim had escaped when he was about to sacri ce it, and

because thunder had sounded from a clear sky. He collapsed with

fever at the rst posting station, and on his way home in his litter he is said to have drawn back the curtains, gazed up at the sky, and

complained bitterly that life was being undeservedly taken from him

– since he had done nothing at all which he had cause to regret, save for one thing only. What that was he did not reveal, and it remains di cult to guess. Some people think that he was referring

to an a air with Domitian’s wife Domitia, but she herself solemnly

denied the allegation. And had the charge been true she would surely never have made any such denial but boasted of it – as she

did of all her other misdeeds.

11. Titus died at the age of forty–two, in the same country house

where Vespasian had also died. It was the Ides of September, and he

had reigned two years, two months and twenty days. 3 When the news spread, the common people went into mourning as though

they had su ered a personal loss. Senators hurried to the Senate House without waiting for an o cial summons, and even before the

doors had been opened began speaking of him with greater thankfulness and praise than they had ever used while he was alive

and still among them.