Jordan Christopher analyzes the freshwater provision systems of the imperial capitals of Rome and Chang’an from the perspective of political power, using as his adage that “water flows in the shape of power.” He describes how, during the Republican period, Roman aqueducts were constructed in an ad hoc manner, to please certain constituents rather than to meet the documented needs of the general public. Augustus, in contrast, had a new aqueduct (Aqua Alsietina) constructed to serve only his own Naumachia. Still, even under the Principate, Roman rulers understood that maintaining the earlier aqueducts was a political necessity, and they also invested in baths and fountains – public spaces where elite and commoners alike could meet – to promote solidarity among the citizenry. As recent archaeological work has documented, Western Han Chang’an too was equipped with impressive water control and supply systems. Water coming from the mountains south of Chang’an was pooled and channeled, and engineered so that it could both provide the city with freshwater and prevent flooding. Christopher’s point here is that, by and large, the water infrastructure served the palaces, especially the two major palaces in the southern part of Chang’an, providing a steady supply of water and beautifying the environment. In other words, instead of overcoming hierarchies, water infrastructure in Chang’an was used, just like its many walls, to reinforce and strengthen hierarchies. Chang’an also featured no fountains, and while its many (private) wells might have provided occasion for people to mingle, they were by no means designed to promote such encounters.

The beginnings of geographical writings in Graeco-Roman and Han-Chinese culture were subject to divergent perspectives on the natural environment. While ancient Chinese views were typically land-based, the Mediterranean Sea invited a maritime perspective. From the works of early Greek traveling writers, the exercise of geographia (literally ‘description of the earth’) was therefore inspired by principles and practices of circumnavigation, including the detailing of distances and orientation toward topographical features. In China, on the contrary, under the heading of xing fa, an evolving body of geographical manuals focused foremost on shapes and forms, including those of humans, objects, or provinces. Luke Habberstad undertakes the comparative analysis of two authors whose works are commonly considered emblematic of the genre of geographical literature in both civilizations: Strabo of Amaseia (first century BCE/CE), author of an influential Geography, and Ban Gu (first century CE), whose “Treatise on Geography” (“dili zhi”) became an influential precedent for imperial histories compiled in later dynasties. Habberstad’s discussion of authorship, text, and context makes it obvious that Strabo and Ban Gu differed widely in structure and focus. What united their perspectives, however, is that they were situated at analogous historical moments in the trajectory of their respective civilizations, namely, unprecedented highpoints of geographical extent and administrative organization. Literary encounters with space were thus intimately intertwined with ideas about cultural advancement. Expanding on this observation, Habberstad demonstrates that ancient geography, as encapsulated in the works of Strabo and Ban Gu, was not primarily and certainly not exclusively concerned with natural phenomena, but resonated mostly with the imperial milieus and their performative capacities to administer the vast expanse of empire.

According to Tacitus, Tiberius declared before the Senate that he observed all of the deeds and pronouncements of Augustus as if they were law (Ann. 4.37). This chapter explores the degree to which that statement is true and the consequences of Tiberius’ adherence to Augustan precedents. I begin with an overview of Tiberius’ relationship with the Senate. I then examine the much criticized fiscal policies of Tiberius. Even those were a consequence of his reverence for Augustus and his desire to preserve Augustan precedent. Next, we examine the notion of the pax Augusta under Tiberius. Again, we see that Tiberius was bound by Augustan policy in his failure to expand the empire. Finally, we analyze the persecution of Jews, worshippers of Isis, and astrologers in the reign of Tiberius. These persecutions were prompted not only by Tiberius’ desire to follow Augustus’ precedents but also, more importantly, by attacks on the domus Augusta.

The first four principes after Augustus all ruled by virtue of their relationship to the founder of the principate. By the end of the reign of Nero, few men were left who could claim to be descended from Divus Augustus. This led to a series of civil wars, won by a man who had no familial relationship with the domus Augusta. By AD 69, the position of princeps had been codified beyond the hereditary charisma of Augustus. But as we see in the lex de imperio Vespasiani, the Senate recognized the legal claim of Vespasian to rule as princeps was based on the original position created by Augustus, a position solidified by the attitude and actions of Augustus’ successor, Tiberius.

The introduction provides a brief overview of the principal arguments of the book and a description of each chapter. In particular, I present the argument that because Tiberius was forced to rely upon the charisma of Augustus to consolidate his power, he routinized that charisma into the position of princeps.

In this chapter, we examine perceptions of the messages being sent by the court of Tiberius in the writings of contemporary authors. We begin with Ovid, exiled by Augustus and desperately trying to win his return. Ovid’s anger at being exiled is contrasted by his praise for the domus Augusta. We continue with the astrological works of Germanicus and Manilius, whose ambiguity conflates Divus Augustus with his living relatives. In Strabo’s Geography, we see that Augustus brought peace to the world, a peace continued by his son and grandsons. Velleius Paterculus gives us an eyewitness account of the transition of power between Augustus and Tiberius. In his account we perceive the threat of civil war had Divus Augustus not watched over his house and had Tiberius not taken up his father’s burden. Valerius Maximus presents the Caesars as epitomizing all of the noble exempla of the past. Phaedrus demonstrates the clear perception that Augustus was divine and Tiberius was mortal, although both men were wise. Finally, Seneca the Elder shows clear reverence for Augustus despite writing at the very end of Tiberius’ reign.

This chapter evaluates previous scholarship on charismatic leadership in the ancient world, pointing out the lack of a definitive analysis of Max Weber’s actual statements on charisma and its routinization. It includes a discussion of the routinization of charisma from scholars in organizational leadership as well as political science. It also examines the transition of power after the death of Augustus. Although our sources are problematic, we can see Tiberius trying to simultaneously imitate Augustus’ actions in 27 BC while also declaring his reverence for his predecessor and his own inferiority.

The image of Augustus dominated the principate of Tiberius. We can see that this was at least partially intentional. Coins issued under Tiberius tended to promote the deceased Divus Augustus even more so than the living princeps Tiberius. The most important documents from the reign of Tiberius commemorate Augustus (the Res Gestae) and Augustus’ great-nephew and adopted grandson, Germanicus (the Tabula Siarensis, the Tabula Hebana, and the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone patre). All of these documents focus on Augustus and the charismatic members of the domus Augusta. We see this reflected in art as well. Portraits of Tiberius evolve to take on some Augustan features, yet a distinction is preserved between the divine Augustus and the mortal Tiberius. This is especially reflected in two large cameos from the first century, the Gemma Augustea and the Grand Camée.