How Augustus Used the Marbles of Rome to Shape Its Memory

Mary Margaret Fanning

Augustus’ name has come down the ages as synonymous with the empire he helped create, and nowhere else is his legacy more evident than in his surviving architecture. Since the days of the republic, the cultural memory of the Roman people had been fashioned by their monuments and structures, and those structures were erected by men who understood how to manipulate history. Augustus, as reported by the ancient biographer Suetonius, was one such man who knew how to exploit things to his advantage. Throughout his reign, he constructed vast complexes, temples, and other works of massive architectural stature, feats of construction which determined his public image and allowed him to dominate the past and the future with his own perspective. Augustus’ great political success partially lies in his sound understanding that architecture is the primary form of remembrance for Romans, a concept he applied magnificently in his building projects and reconstructions, so much so that even his critics and opponents must be forced to applaud his efforts and his legacy on the monumental architecture of not only Rome but also the entire Western World. 

Suetonius, writing close to a century after the life of Augustus, chronicles every feature of the man with near-insane specificity. He details his education, his military service, his family life and lineage, his drinking habits, how he liked to spend his free time, and his efforts to rebuild Rome—literally and figuratively. Chapter twenty-eight through thirty of Suetonius’ Vita Divi Augusti focus primarily on Augustus’ vast series of building projects, from his temples to the porticos dedicated by his family to his reordering of the city itself. Likewise, chapter forty-six also records his public works and furnishings, and chapter eighty-nine demonstrates his particular interest in and concern for building specifications. Ultimately, these projects are examples of how careful and calculated Augustus’ approach to architecture is. Augustus has a keen understanding of how the Roman public perceives public buildings, which is displayed in his bold statement “ut iure sit gloriatus marmoream se relinquere, quam latericiam accepisset” (Suet. Aug. 28.3), meaning “that he found the city made of brick and he had left it one of marble”—no doubt an exaggeration as far as the entire city is concerned, but Augustus was far from incorrect in his assessment that he beautified Rome through the glorification of his own name, lineage, and policies. Augustus’ understanding of how to use buildings as a form of public image fashioned his mark on the empire which would last for many centuries after his death. 

Throughout time and across spaces and cultures, humanity has used buildings as far more than simply infrastructure. Buildings—whether as assemblies of politics or worship, or spaces for habitation, commerce, or cuisine—are symbols of much more than what their initial purpose appears to be. This is particularly evident in buildings which function as communal spaces referred to as “common spaces for memory” by Josephine Shaya. Shaya explains that by purposefully associating a memory with a communal space, one is able to use that space to grow one’s own ideology, while also creating the illusion of unity in a culture in turmoil, due to the shared history which is being highlighted. This is exceptionally effective with architecture, namely with monuments which already possess a pre-existing association that can be expanded upon and formed to suit the ideology of the individual exploiting them. Geoffrey S. Sumi, notes that the Romans were particularly fond of this custom, and that Roman orators and politicians, such as Cicero, had been linking their own present-day policies with those of the past since the days of the republic. Sumi describes this tactic as using monuments as “visual aids or ‘props’ in speeches”, drawing upon an often unconscious or unspoken connection between the modern orator and the glory and achievements of the supposedly unified past, embodied by the surrounding architecture. For the Romans, monuments served as mnemonic devices for their history and in many ways determined how they saw themselves. Understanding this established Roman mentality is important for appreciating how well Augustus capitalized on it in his own building projects and public image. 

For many Romans seeking power, monuments served as tools because of their ability to “displace memories.” Shaya illustrates this tactic: “While monuments seem to preserve the past, they also erase unwanted aspects of it. [...] [Monuments take away] the burden of memory, they reduce and simplify cultural understanding.” This way of thinking is key to grasping Augustus’ brilliant use of buildings, monuments, and architecture as a way of shaping his image and firmly cementing his regime’s ideological depictions in the landscape of Roman history. According to Sumi, there are two methods for using monumental architecture as a means of propaganda for ideology: 1) directly soliciting the audience to recall the particular memory or event commemorated by the construction, or 2) subtly associating with the space in the effort to make the listeners themselves recall the necessary memories and fill in the blanks, so to speak—blanks usually shaped by the words which the orator is speaking in the moment. Augustus was a master at drawing himself into association with a particular aspect of some cultural memory while at the same time negating and dismissing the less than savory elements from which he wished to distance himself. This is principally evident in his treatment of the life and legacy of Julius Caesar, the man to whom he owed the majority of both his successes and condemnations. Early in his career when he was a young man, when he was the up and coming Octavian rather than the stately emperor Augustus, he greatly desired to be remembered as the son of Caesar, namely as the Divi Filius, the son of the god—but he had no interest in Julius himself being remembered. Edwin Ramage illustrates how Augustus was able to manipulate cultural memory through his architecture in order to essentially erase the features of Caesar he wanted to separate himself from, while at the same time firmly linking himself to Caesar as his true and legitimate son, heir, and righteous avenger. 

Ramage writes that Augustus’ rise to power was hindered by the problem of Caesar’s tyrannical perpetual dictatorship, which brought about the end of the republic (which many constitutionalists were still grappling with), an association which could be quite damaging to the young man’s political career. On the other hand, there was the problem with Caesar being too popular, too beloved, too successful—Augustus could not afford to stand merely in his shadow and so needed to distance himself from the man. This is clear in two of his significant building achievements: the Temple of Mars Ultor (Mars the Avenger) in his brand new Augustan forum, and the Res Gestae Divi Augusti (the Deeds of the Divine Augustus), a massive inscription which is less than of a building project and more a public display via monumental erections across the empire. Suetonius records that it was “[a]edem Martis bello Philippensi pro ultione​ paterna suscepto voverat” (Suet. Aug. 29.1), “because of his paternal revenge, he vowed to build the temple of Mars during the war of Philippi”. Far from a selfless action inspired purely out of a familial devotion, or pietas, to honor his murdered uncle, Augustus shows himself as a clever tactician with the construction of this particular temple. Namely, he draws up the image of Caesar as a martyr, making himself and his civil wars not only justified and legal but also righteous in the eyes of god (i.e., Mars). The association with Mars also connects with Augustus’ Julian lineage, as the Julians claim descent from Romulus, allegedly fathered by the war god, providing Augustus with the semi-divine qualities that strengthened his rule. Moreover, the Temple of Mars Ultor and the deification of Caesar “rendered it easy to depersonalize him”, as Ramage puts it, while driving an “effective wedge between Augustus the man and Caesar the god and make it possible to relegate Caesar to his temple and to the stars, so that attention could be focused on Augustus’ achievements here on earth”. Further, Augustus constructs his forum with himself (not Julius) being the culmination of a long lineage of great men, as seen in the statues he decided to erect (his monumental ancestors and his divine progenitors, such as Mars and Venus). Augustus’ influence over cultural memory through how he presented the past in his public works enabled him to rise beyond Caesar’s negative characteristics while still reaping the full benefits of being his heir, i.e., the positive associations and the influence that came from the name of Julius: “in ima cera Gaium Octavium etiam in familiam nomenque adoptavit” (Suet. Jul. 83.2), that is, “he adopted Gaius Octavius into his family and his name at the bottom in the will”. Likewise, by constructing a temple for this task, Augustus demonstrates his great piety and morality, which later become influential in instituting his moral reforms.

Frank E. Brown describes Roman architecture as spaces of “manipulation,” and Augustus certainly employed that mindset in his building projects. Mars Ultor is an example of how Augustus used symbolism and imagery to call upon the past and the memories of Roman culture in order to associate himself with his lineage and even godhood. As both Sumi and Shaya illustrated above, monuments and building projects which direct one’s focus on history can foster a sense of a shared, unified past which can legitimize one’s own schemes in the present. However, Augustus was an ambitious man. Suetonius writes:

Urbem neque pro maiestate imperii ornatam et inundationibus incendiisque obnoxiam excoluit adeo, ut iure sit gloriatus marmoream se relinquere, quam latericiam accepisset. Tutam vero, quantum provideri humana ratione potuit, etiam in posterum praestitit.

He cultivated the city, since it was not adorned in accordance with the majesty the empire demanded, and was subject to floods and fires, to such a degree that he could justly boast of brick being left as marble. But as far as human reason could be provided, he also provided security for the future. 

Augustus aimed to leave Rome not only as a city of marble, but as a city of marble with his name inscribed on every edifice and street corner. Suetonius mentions his farsightedness, an aspect of his character which ought to be addressed. Augustus knew that his building projects, such as the Temple of Mars the Avenger, were important for his career in the here and now, but he also understood that cultural memory is not just contained within the past but is also looked back upon in the future. It is evident that Augustus took his legacy into consideration as much as he did his current public image, which Ramage illustrates by using the Res Gestae Divi Augusti as an example. In the Res Gestae, Augustus lists his accomplishments and achievements for all the empire to behold, and for all time to marvel at. He spends paragraphs nineteen through twenty-one just detailing his building projects and reconstructions, demonstrating how significant he perceived them to be. Focusing specifically on his reconstructions, Augustus notes that he rebuilt the theater of Pompey and the Capitol, as well as restored the aqueducts in several places, and completed the Julian Forum and the basilica begun by Caesar. Furthermore, Suetonius writes that Augustus did not limit himself to these undertakings, as he encouraged others of the elite to participate in the preservation of cultural heritage and memory: “Sed et ceteros principes viros saepe hortatus est, ut pro facultate quisque monimentis vel novis vel refectis et excultis urbem adornarent” (Suet. Aug. 29.4), meaning, “but he repeatedly exhorted the other leading men to adorn the city with new monuments or old embellishments, so each to his capacity”. These projects demonstrate how Augustus understood the significance of old and new memory, and Ramage notes that this list also helps separate and distance his legacy from that of Julius Caesar, especially since Augustus completes Caesar’s building projects, very nearly claiming them as his own. 

As stated above, it was not just new buildings projects that Augustus exploited to his advantage. He was able to draw himself into association with the memory of great heroes of the past through his reconstructions or refurbishment of various buildings and constructions, such as the Theatre of Pompey and the Flaminian Road. By putting in the time, effort, and resources to restore these public works, Augustus not only wins the respect and admiration of his people, but also forever links his own name with the larger-than-life names of the past, once again associating himself and his line with Roman history itself. In many ways, particularly in his literary propaganda such as Vergil’s Aeneid, it almost seems like the past was leading up to the era of Augustus, culminating in his reign as the golden age of Rome, the age of a city of marble. This strategy was cleverly employed in Augustus’ treatment of the Temple of Castor and Pollux, the Aedes Castoris, a temple which dated back to the age of the republic that Augustus claimed for himself and his own ideology. Once again, Augustus is taking the cultural memory of the Romans into his own hands and reforming it in his own image as a way of establishing his control on culture and history through his understanding of how buildings function in the Roman mind. The Temple of Castor and Pollux was a prominent fixture in Roman daily life, primarily due to its antiquity and past public usage, two elements Augustus was keen to share in. He rededicated the temple to his successor, Tiberius, and Tiberius’ deceased brother Drusus in AD 6. The temple itself was dedicated to the Dioscuri, the brothers Castor and Pollux, whose story was considered to be a “national myth”, in the sense that all Romans appreciated the tale of the brotherly devotion. Moreover, Geoffrey Sumi argues, “a modification of the Dioscuri’s traditional mythology […] gave these gods a role to play in the transformation of Caesar from mortal to divine”, and moreover, the love the brothers share (as well as the implied divinity) may also be a reference to Tiberius and Drusus. Also worthy of note is the fact that Augustus mentions in the Res Gestae that “Forum Iulium et basilicam quae fuit inter aedem Castoris” (Aug. Res. 20), meaning “[I completed] the Julian Forum and the basilica which was between the temple of Castor”, once again directly associating himself and his own architectural achievements with a key feature of Roman memory, the Aedes Castoris.

Paul Zanker, professor of Classics at the Scuola Normale Superiore in Pisa, writes in his book The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus that Augustus took it onto himself to restore and construct sanctuaries and monuments, considering it to be his “most important task”. He took this role so seriously that he even delegated most works of the secular variety to his close friend, Agrippa, saving the religious buildings for him and him alone. Although he was readily able to exploit, manipulate, and fashion various public works to suit his own ideology for the empowerment of his reign, Augustus’ building projects would have never succeeded had he not possessed a genuine love for and interest in the edification of Rome and the beautification of the public landscape, firmly believing that such things were according to the dignity of Roman people. Suetonius’ biography of Augustus paints a clear picture of a clever man who was accurately able to read the mind of the public, a skill he relied on when he undertook projects specifically oriented towards winning public favor. His tireless efforts to rebuild Rome, as reflected in his own Res Gestae Divi Augusti, capture his understanding of cultural memory and the significance building projects played in the past, present, and future. 

Augustus’ achievements are vast, his own record of them being thirty-five paragraphs long. Suetonius’ account dwarfs that with a whomping one-hundred-and-one chapters, each one of a detailed description of the life of a deeply complex man who ruled for just over forty years. However, neither of these works speak in greater volumes than the monuments of architecture Augustus left in his wake, remarkable buildings inscribed with his name and deeds, many of which are still standing today, while the ruins of countless more can be found scattered across Italy. It is one thing to read about the life of great men, it is quite another to see their influence on history with one’s own eyes, especially when that takes the form of structures which call to mind not just their antiquity, but the mythology, religion, and history of one of the most influential civilizations in the ancient world. Augustus forever tied himself to Rome’s cultural memory by making it his own memory, a strategy he did not invent but one he almost certainly perfected. Temple of Mars Ultor in the Forum of Augustus, the Julian Forum, the Temple of Castor and Pollux in the Forum Romanum, the Theater of Pompey in the Campus Martius (only to name a few) are all buildings which—whether by original intention or not—are now Augustan in association and in ideology, due to Augustus’ brilliant understanding of how architecture shapes cultural memory, and what role memory plays in the everyday lives of people in the past, present, and future. Leaving Rome as a city of marble was, quite simply, the shrewdest policy Augustus ever undertook, as it guaranteed his legacy, his public image, and indeed his memory for centuries to come.

Bibliography

Augustus. Res Gestae Divi Augusti. Translated by V. Ehrenberg and A. H. M. Jones, edited by P. A. Brunt and J. M. Moore. New York: Oxford University Press, 1967. 

Brown, Frank E. “Roman Architecture.” College Art Journal 17, no. 2 (1958): 105–14. https://doi.org/10.2307/774050.

Ramage, Edwin S. “Augustus’ Treatment of Julius Caesar.” Historia: Zeitschrift Für Alte Geschichte 34, no. 2 (1985): 223–45. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4435922.

Rowell, Henry Thompson. Rome in the Augustan Age. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1962. 

Shaya, Josephine. “The Public Life of Monuments: The Summi Viri of the Forum of Augustus.” American Journal of Archaeology 117, no. 1 (2013): 83– 110. https://doi.org/10.3764/aja.117.1.0083.

Suetonius. Life of Augustus. Translated by Mary Margaret Fanning, commentary by Darryl A. Phillips. New York: Oxford University Press, 2023.

Sumi, Geoffrey S. “Monuments and Memory: The Aedes Castoris in the Formation of Augustan Ideology.” The Classical Quarterly 59, no. 1 (2009): 167–86. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20616670.

Zanker, Paul. The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1988.