The Flavian Dynasty (69–96)

Table of Contents

The Flavians were a new dynasty.

And when I say new, I mean new in the sense that they lacked the old blood or money the Julio-Claudians possessed. Vespasian’s grandfather was a mere centurion among hundreds others serving under Pompey. What made it worse was that the old Patriarch fled from the field during the final Battle of Pharsalus, an act that would have seen him chopped into little mutton-chops were it not for the fact that Pompey lost that battle and war. Successive generations managed to turn things around through well-placed marriages and public service – not in the army – but as tax collectors skimming off the top as it was their privilege.

Thus, the Flavian dynasty’s origins were as inauspicious and ignoble as they came. Lacking a family chart tracing back to some goddess, or a fine martial tradition going back to some Roman general facing off the Carthaginians, Senones, or ferocious Samnites, it was necessary for the dynasty to come up with new tricks.

Vespasian’s trick was to take the throne from the grasping hands of three others, proving himself the beset of the best of the best.

Titus’ trick was to go big and hard and loud.

Domitian’s trick was to pull back everything and reorganize stuff in a way that made sure the reins of power would not slip from his cold dead corpse.

And so, as with all new things, they had their own new set of problems to resolve before the Roman Senate and People.

Yes, the Senate, and the People. Both Romans, but with different agendas.

For the Senate, the previous dynasty’s success did not translate to the wily body accepting an imperial boot firmly and permanently placed on their old necks.

For the People, well, the game was the same; stability, bread, circus, and money to spare.

For we, readers, it is entertainment.

Emperor Vespasian of the Flavian Dynasty (69 AD to & 79 AD)

Emperor Vespasianus of the Flavian Dynasty

Ahhhhh!

Finally, an Emperor!

Sure, sure, the others were emperors. But compared to Vespasian’s ten years, those that went like for months hardly really deserve the name, right?

First of his name, Only one of his name

Best of Four, Beginner of Three

Formerly a beekeeper, currently the Peacekeeper

King of the Romans, formerly of Syria

Ruler of Britannia, Destroyer of Judea

He is Vespasian, nearly the greatest of the Flavians

Ordinarily Extraordinary

Like Vitellius, Vespasian could claim origins from an equestrian class. Only this time, it was he, rather than a father or someone in the family, that came from an equestrian family the rose to the Senate. In point of fat, his father had the distinguished honor of being a money lender/debt collector/tax collector.

In Rome of old, these roles were interchangeable and usage of a specific term depended on the company and occasion.

Like the other contenders, Vespasian had a complicated relationship with the imperial family. To reward Vespasian for his incompetent handling of his magisterial post in Rome, Caligula supposedly stuffed a handful of mud down his toga.

Wait, wait. This was a good thing!

Remember those cuckolds and poor old men made to run alongside speeding chariots? And those generals poisoned because they threatened the Emperor’s popularity?

The Empire was barely 70 years old and already the most distinguished and foolish personalities had found their way to an early grave. Mediocrity was good. Very good.

Merits

Vespasian had mediocrity down to a T.

Ambitious young men quickly pursued high office early in their youth, provoking the jealousies of men powerful enough to snuff these baby chicklets in their cradles. Vespasian did the same, gaining the quaestorship at 30, but did so during elections, therefore disappearing in the mass of chaos and opportunity.

Keeping his head down was coming to perfection. His poor foundations meant that where other quaesters landed lucrative posts close to Rome, he could only manage one in the pirate-infested island of Crete.

Most ambitious men were seeking marriage alliances with women from powerful families. Vespasian landed one with a freed woman. Nothing to see here, nothing to see here!

The yet-to-be beekeeper understood that power was a community of interests; Antonia Caenis, his wife, was secretary to Antonia Minor, grandmother to the Emperor. Vespasian was thus close to the Emperor’s ear.

A freed woman with connections to the imperial palace, Antonia Caenis was friends with Narcissus, another freed man who was close to Claudius. Vespasian was now literally in the emperor’s ear canal.

Then Vespasian blundered!

Demerits

Vespasian was lucky enough to be a legate in Germania when Claudius decided to invade Britannia.

A lifetime of keeping his head low must have been too much pressure. Presumably far away from Rome, Vespasian could now reveal his hidden depths, right?

Wrong!

In Britannia, Vespasian was very good at his job. He conquered a series of British towns and cities, earning himself recognition and accolades in Rome.

Big mistake!

No Emperor worth his purple needs someone else stealing his glory. Not even poor Claudius. Well, Claudius probably didn’t mind a powerful general to do all the riding and sword waving. But Agrippina the Younger most certainly did.

Youthful adventurism done and out of his system, Vespasian smelt the gunpowder in the air. He finagled a battlefield injury that allowed him to withdraw from the limelight.

It was not enough.

Somehow, he had come into the attention of Agrippina the Younger, wife to Claudius. Remember she murdered the Emperor?

Vespasian retired from public life in 51 AD and disappeared from the media and social networks for the next 12 years. He moved to a country home where he begun keeping bees.

The lore is he studied how bees worked and lived. He wrote several theses on how bees cooperated with each other in a community. A paper he released – suppressed then rejected – claimed that the Queen bee in a hive depended on her drones more than she depended on the workers. Of course, such a statement was a threat to imperia authority; ‘Queen Bee?’ No way was the Empress allowing anyone to turn their lanterns towards her shenanigans.

Merits…again?

Whatever the case, Vespasian had disappeared from public notoriety long enough for the powerful to dismiss him. In that period, 51 AD to 63 AD, just imagine how many people had met untimely – from their perspective anyhow – ends.

Suitably incompetent and lackluster, Vespasian was recalled to service.

Of course, Rome was not full of dummies; Vespasian may have been faking it. Lets reward him with a post in Africa where he can’t do too much damage with the resources there.

Vespasian performed perfectly!

He once more appeared the incompetent governor everyone hoped he would be. In fact, this time, it was the citizens in the towns and cities of Africa who pelted him with agricultural produce.

Vespasian knew it was a trap all along. Someone had seen below the façade he put up. They wanted him to shine and in the process relieve him of his head and body.

Vespasian didn’t do what was expected.

As governor, he did not plunder the province only to return to Rome with immense wealth. The usual sequence was for a former governor to come back filthy rich. Then he would turn his wealth into bribes and friends. Next, getting close to army generals and the people. Then the throne etc etc

Vespasian became a beggar. He was so incompetent he had to turn to a money-lender to survive in Africa. Fortunately, this shylock was his own brother, so the money remained in the family. Few in Rome’s upper societies rubbed shoulders with such lowly folk, so the scheme went unnoticed.

Rather than steal from the province and enrich himself, Vespasian let other powerful steal, enrich themselves, and become friends with him. They would be the ones to return the favor this cunning Darth Apius had been cooking.

He did not let it get to his head though.

Once relieved of his governorship in Africa, he turned up the mediocrity. At a banquet where Nero was entertaining his guests with a poem of his own writing, Vespasian had the audacity to fall asleep!

Incensed, Nero promptly banished him to the troublesome province of Judea. A former governor had already fallen to rebels there, and Roman legions were being beaten back and forth by the sicarios.

Someone like Vespasian, without a hint of self-preservation while before the Emperor, was the best kind of guy to manage a province that would require several legions.

In AD 68, Vespasian was in Judea, with the two legions of the province firmly under his control. The frontier legions in Egypt, Syria, Moesia, Dalmatia, Pannonia, and Illyricum came under his court following the end of Otho, facing off against Vitellius’ northern legions.

Most importantly, Vespasian was in control of the grain from Egypt.

…

Storyline sounds familiar, right? Guy demonstrates supreme incompetence, banished to a rebellious province where there are numerous legions on hand. Meanwhile, increasingly capricious Emperors back home are heedlessly marching their way to several daggers waiting to stabby stab them to death…

A New Dawn

…that looked the same it did yesterday…

Otho, Vitellius, and, to an extent, Galba, each tried to shore up their rule by referring to themselves as heirs to Nero and the Julio-Claudians.

Even if Vespasian wanted the same, his legions had practically sacked Rome and murdered tens of thousands while entering. These legions, long accustomed to frontier life and likely recruited from communities at the frontier, had little love for Italia and Rome. Vespasian, knowing the foundations upon which his power relied, likely dismissed any attempt at doing the same as his fellow contenders.

Pecunia non olet

Literally, money does not stink.

Nero, looking to collect revenue, introduced the urine tax on public toilets. It was unpopular and quietly went away.

Vespasian re-introduced it. Unlike Nero, his building programs were far more utilitarian. Moreover, he had nothing to fear from the Roman citizenry. From a career as a beekeeper and later as a muleteer, Vespasian was an old hand at collecting money and thumbing his nose at those that looked down on him.

Urine tax?

Ha!

Divine Scammer

Rome was in shambles. Just one year of war had resulted in disruptions from tax collection to grain shipments from Egypt.

Much of his first year was spent in Egypt, trying to secure grain shipments to Rome and the rest of the Empire.

The old dog supposedly wore several hats; he was a divine messenger, brought by the heavens, and sent to heal the people. The minuscule taxes raised and him taking away grain from the Egyptians was little recompense for his miraculous works.

The Second Coming of Herod

Judea’s revolts scarred the old man.

Vespasian had taken down Judea and the Temple. It also cost him a great deal.

Plus, his prior incompetent image needed a reversal and re-imaging. The new Emperor had to be a figure of providence.

So?

Wipe out the Line of David.

Vespasian sent out the word. All members of the House of David were to be killed where found. Messianic prophesies about Christ being the new king aside, Vespasian knew he needed an added touch of spice to his reign if the people were to accept him.

Purges and Promotions

One of the first things Vespasian did was to purge the Senate and equestrian ranks of the supported of his former and prospective armies. The Senate was targeted because of the influence their wealth brought. The Equestrians were targeted because by this time, most emperors relied on this rank of Roman elites to staff the different offices in the Empire.

Still, it was not all about purges, demotions, evictions, and banishments to Illyria.

One of Vespasian’s truly grandest display of cohones was appointing Agricola to command the legions in Britannia. Previous Roman generals and governors had failed the Empire when it came to Britannia, and a powerful commander like Agricola, loved by his men, was something few Emperors entertained.

Vespasian did, and for this I respect the man.

Inspiring Goebbels

Vespasian’s appointments in Africa, the East, and even the short stint in the North proved he lacked a foundation in Rome proper. This meant that in this era where social media and quantum communications was lacking, few people, nobility and elites included, actually recognized the new Emperor.

So?

Coins.

Lots of coins.

On the head, Vespasian’s portly figure could be found. On the reverse was the figure of Fortuna, goddess of fortune in life and war. Vespasian’s heritage and claim to authority would be his military successes.

Unlike his predecessors, Vespasian had actual claim to military victories. He used this – and lavish courting of the authors of the period – to run a propaganda mill to the effect that he deserved the throne. Suetonius, Pliny the Elder [before he choked to death in Vesuvius in 79 AD], Josephus, Tacitus, and many others were commissioned to write tales of Vespasian’s success to the world.

Of course, any good propaganda campaigner knows that all good scams need a single voice.

While the names we know today – Suetonius, Josephus, Pliny the Elder, and Tacitus – managed to reach down across the millennia to us, those of the idiots did not. Ever heard of Helvidius Priscus? Nope? That is because he died after posting some highly critical Twitter posts about Vespasian on Truth Social.

Constructions

Vespasian was a builder. Not anywhere close to what his successor Titus managed, but a respectable number anyhow.

The Colosseum built during the Flavian Dynasty

Among his most successful or famous constructions was the Colosseum, finished under Titus, which is one of Rome’s grandest buildings.

Death

He discretely died of diarrhea.

In memory of this low-key man, Suetonius decided to immortalize the Emperor via a poem…

Imperial bowels ridden, Imperial face wan,

The diarrhea strikes, Imperial seat compromised

“An Emperor ought to die standing”

Empire’s trunks are firm

Imperial bowels rumble

Empire’s trunks stumble

The Emperor is Dead!

Long Live the Beekeeper!

Summary.

The Flavian Dynasty emperor — **1st emperor of The Flavian Dynasty**

Emperor Titus Caesar Vespasianus (AD 79 – AD 81)

The playboy who reformed.

Okay, honestly, its not fair to term him a playboy.

Titus was born in the year 39 AD, to none other than Emperor Vespasian himself – none of that fostering business here yet. Now, young Titus grew up in a time when Rome was going through some serious political turbulence. But fear not, for Titus was no stranger to the rough and tumble of Roman politics.

In his early years, Titus proved his mettle on the battlefield. He fought in Britannia and Gaul, gaining a reputation as a skilled military commander. You could say he had a knack for slaying foes like a gladiator with a particularly sharp sword. It was during these military campaigns that he caught the attention of his father, who saw in him the makings of a true Roman leader.

But Titus wasn’t just about war and conquest. He had a soft spot for the arts and culture, too. In fact, he was quite the patron of the arts, supporting famous playwrights and poets of his time. Ah, the Emperor with a refined taste for tragedy and comedy—quite the Renaissance man, if you ask me.

Now, Titus’s rise to power came about in a rather dramatic fashion. After his father Vespasian became emperor, he appointed Titus as his right-hand man and heir apparent. However, Vespasian’s untimely demise in 79 AD paved the way for Titus to take the throne. It’s almost as if destiny had a cheeky sense of timing, don’t you think?

During his brief but eventful reign, Titus faced a few challenges. The most notorious one was the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD, which buried the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum under layers of ash. Talk about a natural disaster that could put a damper on anyone’s day! But Titus handled the situation admirably, providing aid and support to the affected regions.

Despite the challenges, Titus was well-regarded by the Roman people. He was known for his generosity and benevolence, earning him the nickname “the Darling of Mankind.” Not too shabby for a chap who was only emperor for a short while.

Sadly, Titus’s reign was cut short by his untimely death in 81 AD. Some say he fell victim to a fever, while others claim he was poisoned. Ah, the allure of conspiracy theories!

No; this wasn’t the usual treatment offered the sculptures of hated emperors. Read on to find out what the broken nose has to do with the deliberate defacing of this bust!

The Playboy

During his youth, Titus was known for his charm and good looks, which earned him quite a reputation as a ladies’ man. He had a certain je ne sais quoi that seemed to attract women like bees to honey. Some might even call him the Casanova of ancient Rome. Oh, those smoldering glances and irresistible smiles!

Now, it’s worth mentioning that Titus had a taste for the finer things in life. He enjoyed lavish parties, extravagant banquets, and all the pleasures that Rome had to offer. He reveled in the company of courtesans, and the rumor mill certainly didn’t spare him when it came to tales of his romantic conquests. It seemed like wherever Titus went, a trail of infatuated hearts followed.

But Titus wasn’t all about wine, women, and song. He also had a serious side. He received an excellent education, studying under the renowned Stoic philosopher Epictetus, who instilled in him a sense of discipline and wisdom. So, beneath that roguish exterior lay a man with a keen intellect and a thirst for knowledge.

The Scandal

Statue of Titus modelled after the Doryphoros of Polykleitos 79–81 AD, Vatican Museums

Legend has it that Titus, in his amorous adventures, found himself entangled with the beautiful and captivating Queen Berenice of Judea. Berenice was known for her charm and allure, and the sparks between her and Titus were said to be nothing short of electric. It was a love affair that set tongues wagging throughout the Roman Empire.

Now, the details of their relationship may be obscured by the mists of time, but one thing’s for certain—Titus and Berenice enjoyed each other’s company, much to the chagrin of Roman society. You see, Berenice was a foreign queen, and her status as a royal from Judea raised a few eyebrows among the conservative Roman elite. Roman society was not far removed from the time where the mere implication of royal nobility among its highest social circles were grounds for stabby stabby stabby Congressional seatings.

The affair between Titus and Berenice was a bit like a love story fit for the stage—dramatic, passionate, and fraught with tension. It’s said that Berenice even joined Titus in Rome, causing quite a stir in the city. It had nothing to do with the fact she was 10 years older; in Rome, a woman’s function was to bear children and for this family with merely 2 sons on the roll, the possibility of marriage between the two was too much to bear for some.

However, as with many romantic entanglements, fate had a twist in store. Political considerations and the expectations of Roman society ultimately prevailed. Titus, who had ascended to the throne as emperor, found himself faced with the pressure to make a politically advantageous marriage to secure his reign. And alas, poor Berenice was left to lament the lost love, as Titus eventually broke off their relationship.

So, while the affair between Titus and Queen Berenice may have ignited passions and set tongues wagging, it was ultimately a love story that couldn’t withstand the weight of political obligations. But the echoes of their romantic liaison continue to fuel the imaginations of historians and romantics alike.

A Legacy

A Roman denarius depicting Titus, c. 79. The reverse commemorates his triumph in the Judaean Wars, representing a Jewish captive kneeling in front of a trophy of arms. Caption: IMP. T. CAESAR VESPASIANVS AVG. / Tribunus Potestas VIII, Consul VII

One of the most renowned construction projects associated with Titus was the completion of the grand amphitheater known as the Colosseum. This iconic structure, originally initiated by his father Vespasian, was a monumental feat of engineering and architectural prowess. The Colosseum, with its vast seating capacity and ingenious mechanisms for staging elaborate spectacles, became a symbol of Roman power and entertainment.

The Flavian Amphitheatre, better known as the Colosseum, was completed after 10 years construction during the reign of Titus and inaugurated with spectacular games that lasted for 100 days

By overseeing the completion of the Colosseum, Titus solidified the legacy of his family and the Flavian Dynasty. The massive arena showcased the might and magnificence of Rome, serving as a testament to the Flavian rulers’ ability to undertake grand projects. It was a physical manifestation of their authority and a source of immense pride for the dynasty.

Not only did the Colosseum represent the dynasty’s power, but it also served as a means to gain favor and maintain popularity with the Roman people. The amphitheater provided a venue for gladiatorial contests, animal hunts, and mock naval battles, all of which delighted and entertained the citizens. It was a clever move by Titus to cultivate goodwill and ensure the loyalty of the populace.

Another notable construction project initiated by Titus was the restoration and beautification of the city of Rome after the devastating Great Fire of Rome in 64 AD. He undertook extensive rebuilding efforts, reconstructing damaged buildings, and enhancing the city’s infrastructure. This endeavor aimed to improve the living conditions for the Roman citizens and restore the splendor of the Eternal City.

The Arch of Titus, on the Via Sacra, just to the south-east of the Roman Forum in Rome

Titus’s commitment to the reconstruction of Rome following the fire was not only a reflection of his personal ambition but also a means of showcasing his benevolence and concern for the well-being of the people. It allowed him to establish a positive image as a compassionate and caring ruler, which further solidified his popularity and strengthened the dynasty’s hold on power.

Furthermore, Titus’s construction projects, particularly the Colosseum and the rebuilding of Rome, served to reinforce his personal legacy and leave a lasting mark in the annals of history. These grand undertakings were a testament to his vision, leadership, and dedication to enhancing the empire. They were tangible achievements that would ensure his name would be remembered and celebrated for generations to come.

The First Crusade

Destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem, Francesco Hayez, oil on canvas (1867) depicts the destruction and looting of the Second Temple by the Roman Army.

When Titus emerged victorious in the First Jewish-Roman War (66-73 AD), he brought back several significant trophies from Judea that held profound symbolism for his reign. These trophies included sacred artifacts plundered from the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, most notably the golden menorah, the Table of Showbread, and the silver trumpets.

Titus’s triumph after the First Jewish-Roman War was celebrated with the Arch of Titus in Rome, which shows the treasures taken from the Temple, including the Menorah and the trumpets of Jericho.

The golden menorah, a seven-branched candelabrum, held immense religious and cultural significance for the Jewish people. It was a central symbol of Judaism and an integral part of the temple rituals. By seizing and displaying the menorah in Rome, Titus aimed to showcase the triumph of the Roman Empire over Judea and its religious traditions. It was a potent symbol of conquest and a demonstration of Rome’s military might.

The Table of Showbread, another cherished item from the Temple, was a sacred table upon which the loaves of bread were placed as an offering to God. By capturing and parading this table through Rome, Titus sought to assert his authority and demonstrate the defeat of Jewish religious practices. It served as a reminder that Rome had the power to quash rebellions and impose its dominance over conquered lands.

The silver trumpets, used for various ceremonial purposes in the Temple, were also taken as spoils of war. They represented the loss of Jewish autonomy and the subjugation of the Jewish people to Roman rule. These trophies acted as tangible symbols of the Jewish defeat and the supremacy of the Roman Empire under Titus’s leadership. The capture of these sacred objects from the Jewish Temple also had wider implications. It signified the destruction of the Jewish religious center and intensified the Roman suppression of Jewish identity and practices. This event marked a turning point in the relationship between Rome and the Jewish community, shaping the dynamics of subsequent Jewish-Roman interactions.

And so, the display of these captured artifacts had profound implications for Titus’s reign. It bolstered his image as a victorious military leader and solidified his position as a powerful emperor. More importantly, for an Empire just a decade from a destructive war, these articles of religious divide were important to the new dynasts. These trophies were showcased in triumphal processions and public spectacles, serving to glorify Titus and legitimize his rule in the eyes of the Roman people.

Don’t Burn Them All!

To make up for his wayward youth, the Roman gods decided to test the emperor in a number of ways.

The first was the Great Fire of Rome in 64 AD. Picture this: Rome, the bustling metropolis, went up in flames like a poorly cooked lasagna. It was a disaster of epic proportions! Unlike his predescessor several bodies back up the line, Titus did not start the fire… But, like he that shall not be named, he faced the daunting task of rebuilding the city and dealing with the disgruntled citizens.

The fire ravaged large parts of Rome, leaving countless citizens homeless and fanning the flames of public discontent. Titus had to step up and take charge of the restoration efforts. It was a Herculean task, like trying to untangle a bowl of spaghetti with a plastic fork. But our emperor was determined! He embarked on a massive rebuilding project, restoring damaged buildings, and improving the city’s infrastructure. It was his way of saying, “Hey, Rome, we’re not going down in flames! We’ll rise from the ashes like a perfectly baked soufflé!”

Legends have it that Yahweh was not happy about his triffles being on display back in Rome. Problem was, God’s plans for humanity’s fiery death was scheduled for some time several thousands of years down the line. Still, a test run could be finessed, and Pompeii, with the sea waters close enough to control the experiment, was just perfect.

The Eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 completely destroyed Pompeii and Herculaneum. Plaster casts of actual victims found during excavations are now on display in some of the ruins

So, just when Titus thought he had dealt with enough fiery calamities, along came Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. This volcanic monster decided to unleash its wrath upon the nearby cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum, burying them under layers of ash and debris. Talk about a volcano having a serious case of indigestion!

Titus faced the challenge of responding to the catastrophe and providing relief to the affected areas. It was a race against time, like trying to eat a plate of spaghetti carbonara before it gets cold. He dispatched aid and resources to the devastated cities, demonstrating his concern for his subjects and his ability to handle a volcanic-sized crisis.

So, whether it was Rome going up in flames or Vesuvius deciding to blow its top, Titus faced challenges that would make even the bravest gladiator break a sweat. But our emperor tackled them head-on, like a determined Roman soldier charging into battle. He rebuilt Rome, showing resilience in the face of adversity, and provided support to the victims of Vesuvius, proving that he had the mettle to handle even the most fiery trials.

Death

According to legend, Titus’ dying words were, “I have made but one mistake.”

Wrong!

Titus made three mistakes.

The first was carrying off God’s goodies. Yeah, that never goes down well even if you don’t believe in that particular deity. For someone as erudite as the emperor, this was a rookie blunder.

The second blunder was retracing his father’s steps just after celebrating the Games. Worn from a ride in his carriage – those things didn’t have springs you see – Titus planned a stay at the very farmhouse his father crapped himself to death in. He should not have…there he was, 2 years an emperor and no kids? Daddy warbucks’ exasperated ghost must have hounded the former playboy to death.

The third was Domitian.

Despite their differences, the literary genius Josephus dedicated a poem in memory of the friendship the two shared:

Temple’s sacred core, treasures plundered

Wonders galore, sights unseen

Yahweh is mad, payback’s a bitch

A curse invoked, vengeance sworn

A fly in the soup, a fly in the nose

An emperor’s nose, nibble nibble nibble

How the mighty fall, by flying means by fly

Great Caesar is fallen, em, what’s Domitian doing over there?

Emperor Domitian (AD 81 – AD 96)

Did you know that in almost all of Roman history, Emperor Titus was the only firstborn son to directly inherit his father’s power? Almost all others died prematurely…and I don’t mean of childbirth.

Disclaimer: This introduction has nothing to do with our entry on Domitian…

Born in 51 AD, Domitian was the younger son of Vespasian and younger brother to Titus. From the outset, he was ignored by his small family. To provide a picture of just how much his presence was ignored, just look up his Wikipedia entry; they list him as Domitian. None of the flourish one expects with an emperor introduced from the outset, merely Domitian.

For Vespasian, Titus was young enough to take over the reigns of power and little Domitian was never expected to do so. Dad and elder brother were off in Germania, Judaea, and everywhere else but home, while mom and sis died early in his life. All the glory of following the legions went to Titus and for little bro, it was study study study.

It is whispered that Domitian felt a tinge of envy towards his elder brother Titus. After all, it was Titus who basked in the glory of the military campaigns and triumphs of their father, Vespasian. During the triumphal march following Vespasian and Titus’ return from Judaea, the two rode well ahead of the Flavian family while Domitian nudged and shoved his way alongside the rest of the small clan. Appropriate, given the occasion, but it must have rankled.

Vespasian made Titus a tribune alongside himself, consul, Censor, command of the Praetorian, etc etc. By comparison, while Domitian also held several high posts, they lacked genuine power or authority. In the eyes of Vespasian and later Titus, the best Domitian could do was as a placeholder, the heir elect, while the business of running the state stayed with themselves.

Domitian sought to distinguish himself, to prove that he, too, was worthy of wielding power and leaving his mark on history. One way was to defy his father’s wishes to “keep it all in the family” by marrying his niece – not that personal ambition would prevent him from carrying out an affair with his niece once he was emperor. Domitian instead convinced a Senator with the exhaustively long name of Lucius Aelius Lamia Plautius Aelianus to divorce his wonderful wife so he could marry her. Domitia Longina was the daughter of a rather popular and successful general and for Domitian, the arrangement was a good match.

When I say convinced, I mean the young dynast applied considerable pressure on the older gentleman. The practice was rather common; these ties would link families together, set up alliances and cooperation all over the place.

The Augusta

Anyhow, as time passed, and fate wove its intricate tapestry, the winds of fortune shifted. The untimely death of his father Vespasian, and the timely death his brother Titus thrust Domitian into the limelight, for better or worse. And so, the ambitious young man stepped into the role of emperor, where he would leave an indelible imprint on the pages of history.

Emperor

Domitian stepped into Titus’ shoes barely 2 years after his brother ascended to the purple. Both Cassius Dio and Suetonius imply Domitian had something to do with the fly doing a kamikaze on his brother, but since Domitian was generally unpleasant to his staff, we can’t verify any of this…

The first two Flavians operated government like the mafia. While “keeping it all in the family” was a twist the Mafia didn’t especially pursue, the Flavians usually appointed close family members to the highest posts in government, ignoring the Senate. Domitian favoured the arrangement himself, albeit with a twist. As far as he was concerned, the Roman Empire deserved rule by divinity and since gods were infinite, he did not have to rely on family like his predescessors.

And he was a god at the business of ruling empire.

Domitian, with meticulous attention, governed the Empire down to the finest details. He personally immersed himself in all administrative matters, issuing edicts that regulated even the minutiae of daily life and legislation. He rigorously enforced taxation and upheld public morals without compromise.

Even with the hate Domitian attracted, Suetonius himself claimed that the imperial bureaucracy had never operated so efficiently as it did during Domitian’s reign. His unwavering standards and inherent suspicion played a crucial role in maintaining historically low levels of corruption among provincial governors and elected officials. Domitian left no room for complacency or misconduct within the corridors of power.

While Domitian openly acknowledged the limited influence of the Senate under his absolute rule, he didn’t hesitate to exert his authority over those senators he deemed unworthy. Believing in the centralization of power, he sought to assert his authority over the aristocracy, leading to clashes and strained relations resembling a political tug-of-war. Swift expulsion from the Senate awaited those who fell short of his expectations, facing the consequences of their inadequacy.

In matters of public appointments, Domitian diverged from the nepotism practiced by his predecessors, Vespasian and Titus. He rarely favored family members, opting instead for a policy that aimed to maintain fairness and meritocracy in the distribution of public offices.

To get a sense of just how Domitian was good at the business of government, people in the medieval ages and onwards adopted his practice of government. You see, Domitian relied on the Equestrian order, knights essentially, to fill in critical posts in government. Domitian spent a lot of time away from Rome on business. Rome’s power, in the eyes of many, was its location as the seat of power.

Domitian turned this around and made his own physical location the seat of power. Like the medieval kings would proceed to do, Domitian sort of made circuits around the Empire, with government ruled from wherever his rear sat. Equestrians would take up official posts, instead of high ranking scions from the aristocracy and Senate, and for this the Senate hated him.

When Domitian assumed the throne, he faced the daunting task of following in the footsteps of his esteemed father, Vespasian, and his celebrated brother, Titus. His rule was marked by a combination of authoritarian tendencies and a desire for stability, influencing his interactions with the various factions of Roman society.

Domitian maintained a firm grip on power, often bypassing traditional Senate channels and relying on his own circle of advisors. This autocratic streak earned him the label of a tyrant in the eyes of some senators who longed for a more participatory form of governance. However, it’s important to note that not all senators opposed Domitian’s rule, and some even thrived under his administration.

Domitian’s reception among the people was mixed. He initiated public works projects, such as the construction of roads and the improvement of infrastructure, aiming to enhance the lives of the populace. These endeavors, akin to offering bread and circuses, were intended to secure popular support and maintain stability.

“Gate of Domitian and Trajan” at the northern entrance of the Temple of Hathor, and Domitian as Pharaoh on the same gate, in Dendra, Egypt. Domitian was one of the first Emperors to spend so much time away from Rome that Rome’s eminence in the eyes of the Empire dwindled.

However, Domitian’s autocratic tendencies and increasing demands for loyalty from the people also bred discontent within certain segments of society. Some perceived his rule as oppressive, with whispers of censorship and suppression of dissent echoing through the streets. Yet, like an intricate mosaic, the opinions of the common people towards Domitian varied, reflecting the complexities of public sentiment.