Part 13

Much of this cruelty was instigated by a woman whom Hortensia mentions. Antony, whose amatory experiences were as varied as they were numerous, was at one time engaged in an intrigue with Fulvia, then the wife of Clodius. She afterward became Antony's wife. Here was a woman the exact opposite of Portia; a resentful, stubborn, masculine woman, "in whom," says Velleius Paterculus, "there was nothing feminine but her body." It is told of her that when Cicero was murdered, his head was brought to her, and she drove her bodkin through the tongue which had so bitterly rated her and her husband. On another occasion, the head of one of the proscribed was brought to Antony. "I do not know it," he said; "let it be taken to my wife." It was the head of a citizen of whom nothing worse is known than that he had refused to sell a farm which Fulvia desired to obtain. Plutarch relates that Antony was obliged to resort to all sorts of boyish tricks in order to keep Fulvia in good humor. Among other like stories which he says were current, he gives the following, relating to the triumvir's sudden return to Rome: "Disguising himself, he came to her by night, muffled up as a servant that brought letters from Antony. She, with great impatience, before she receives the letter, asks if Antony were well, and instead of an answer he gives her the letter; and, as she was opening it, he takes her about the neck and kisses her." The historian gives this characterization of Fulvia: "a woman not born for spinning or housewifery, nor one that could be content with ruling a private husband, but prepared to govern a first magistrate, or give orders to a commander-in-chief. So that Cleopatra was under great obligations to her for having taught Antony to be so good a servant, he coming to her hands tame and broken into entire obedience to the commands of a mistress." Evidently, we must regard Mark Antony as being the great historical type of the "henpecked" husband; there is, however, no occasion for sympathy; his punishment was no greater than he deserved. The chief misfortune lay in the fact that Fulvia died, and thus made room for the noble and much-abused Octavia, whom he afterward married.

Let us return to Portia. There is a beautiful incident related of her final parting from Brutus in the island of Nisida. She was overcome with grief, but refrained from showing it for fear that it might shake her husband's fortitude. But in passing through a hall, a picture which she there saw accidentally betrayed her. It was a representation of Hector parting from Andromache when he went to engage the Greeks. He was in the act of giving his little son Astyanax into her arms, while she fixes her tearful eyes for the last time upon her husband. Portia could not look upon this piece, so suggestive of her own circumstances, without weeping; and every day, as long as she remained in the place, she went to gaze upon it. It was on one of those occasions that Acilius, a friend of Brutus, repeated from Homer the lines where Andromache speaks to Hector: "'But, Hector, you To me are father and are mother too, My brother, and my loving husband true.'"

Brutus, sadly smiling, replied, "But I must not answer Portia, as Hector did Andromache:

"'Mind you your loom, and to your maids give law.'

For though the natural weakness of her body hinders her from doing what only the strength of men can perform, yet she has a mind as valiant and as active for the good of her country as the best of us."

As to the time and manner of Portia's death, the ancient writers are not fully agreed? But the best authenticated account is that which is thus represented by Shakespeare:

"BRUTUS.--O Cassius! I am sick of many griefs.

CASSIUS.--Of your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.

BRUTUS.--No man bears sorrow better; Portia is dead.

CASSIUS.--Ha!--Portia?

BRUTUS.--She is dead.

CASSIUS.--How 'scap'd I killing, when I cross'd you so? O insupportable and touching loss!--Upon what sickness?

BRUTUS.--Impatient of my absence, And grief that young Octavius with Mark Antony Had made themselves so strong;--for with her death These tidings came.--With this she fell distract, And, her attendants absent, swallow'd fire."

In Portia and Brutus we see that close and mutual sympathy, than which marriage in any period of the world's history has nothing better to show. The ancient historians took great delight in eulogizing her character and praising her qualities. They are a unit in the belief that, in all points, she was worthy to be the consort of him whom Antony justly honored as "The noblest Roman of them all."

VII

THE ROMAN WOMAN IN POLITICS

In the disordered conditions which followed the death of Cæsar, the old Roman constitution lost what little force it had seemed to retain under the preceding dictators. The offices of the State remained the same in name, and were still supposed to be filled by men who were freely chosen by the people; but all were under the hand of a power which the Senate dared not resist, and in which the people, weary of the bloody contentions of the oligarchy, were willing to acquiesce so long as bread and games were forthcoming. This power was the army. Whosoever controlled the army found the interpretation of his own political rights not difficult. The forces of the Empire were in the hands of three men: Lepidus, who commanded the legions which at the opportune moment were near Rome; Antony, who was the idol of the people; and the young Octavius, who stood on the vantage of his relationship to the great Cæsar, These men divided the world among themselves; but, in the end, Octavius, by the steadiness of his mind, the fixity of his purpose, and the scope of his executive ability, won for himself the Empire. During the years of civil war and political turmoil which accompanied these changes, much in the Roman social construction which had hitherto been beneath found its way to the surface. It was a struggle in which any strength, skill, or art that enabled its possessor to best his fellows meant political advantage. Though deficient in strength, women, having a certain skill peculiar to their sex and being especially adapted to the practice of those arts by means of which political situations are managed from behind the scenes, became much more influential in State affairs than formerly. Their prominence grew as the government narrowed down from the free Senate to the person of the emperor. Women have always been powerful in a monarchical or an imperial court, but have never enjoyed any notable political rights in a republic.

The period which we are now studying is rich in the names of women who, standing around Cæsar's throne, often found means to further or thwart the designs of its occupant. Among them we may select Livia, not for the dignity of her character or the ability of her mind,--though she was not lacking in either of these qualities,--but because of her position as the Augusta and her long life, she, better than any other, serves to represent the women who were influential in Roman public affairs. Though if Fulvia had lived and Antony had been discreet, Rome might have been governed by a woman, and Fulvia instead of Livia would have been the type we should have chosen. While her husband was following Cleopatra to Egypt, a prisoner to her fascinations, Fulvia had control of the consuls and was making war against Octavius. If this ambitious, strong-minded woman, who held reviews of the troops with a sword at her side, had been possessed of sufficient funds, Octavius might never have won the purple; but the only means by which the army could be held were wasted by her husband in monstrous extravagances. Defeated in her schemes through the non-coöperation of her husband, Fulvia became ill through vexation and shame, and died about B.C. 39.

Livia possessed an entirely different character from that which dominated Fulvia; yet, being of the Claudian race,--that family which, as Niebuhr says, "in all ages distinguished itself alike by a spirit of haughty defiance, by disdain for the laws, and iron hardness of heart,"--it would have been strange if Livia had not made her influence felt in the house of Cæsar and to the sorrow of those who stood in her way. When Livia first met Octavius, she was eighteen years old and the wife of Tiberius Claudius Nero, a man probably much older than herself. The varying aspects of the Civil War made it difficult for a man who sought before all things his own security to know which cause to support. Ill luck seemed to prompt Claudius Nero in his choice; first he threw in his lot with Brutus and Cassius, though he was indebted to Cæsar for many favors; then, after the defeat of these, he joined Antony against Augustus. The consequence was that he spent much time in the endeavor to rectify his mistakes of policy by fleeing from one commander to another. In all these journeyings and adventures his wife accompanied him, carrying with her their young child Tiberius, who was destined to become Emperor of Rome. At times she was exposed to great danger; for instance, in Lacedæmon, during an escape by night from their enemies, the forest through which they were passing was on fire, and her hair and clothing were scorched by the flames. Claudius Nero succeeded in gaining a pardon from Octavius, and he and his wife returned to Rome. Whether this grace resulted from the representations he made in his own defence, or from the interest excited by Livia in the mind of Octavius, history does not inform us; but certain conclusions are unavoidable, inasmuch as Octavius compelled Claudius Nero to divorce his wife so that he himself might marry her.

In order that this marriage might take place, a double divorce was necessary; for Octavius was already united to Scribonia, by whom he had a daughter, Julia, the only child that was ever born to him. He had married Scribonia for purposes of political expediency. At the time of his marriage he was only twenty-three years old, while his bride was his senior by many years and had already lost two husbands by death. The object of this marriage was to win for Octavius the support of Libo, the brother of Scribonia, and through him his son-in-law Sextus Pompeius, who was a man of great influence. This purpose being served, the young ruler found himself at the same time secure in his position and tired of the marital alliance which he had formed for the sake of that security. He alleged perversity of character and incompatibility of temperament--- the only charges he could prefer--in Scribonia, and sent her a letter of separation only a few days after his child had been born.

"By this act," says Adolf Stahr, as quoted by S. Baring Gould, "Octavius himself strewed the seeds of discord which were to disturb fatally the concord of the imperial family, not only during his own life, but far beyond it, Scribonia would have been no woman not to have felt deadly hatred toward that woman in whom she saw the robber of her honor, the wrecker of her happiness, the overthrower of her ambition, and by means of whom a new family forced its way into that place which should have been hers and usurped her claims and her hopes. As the mother of Julia, the only daughter of the sovereign, as the ancestress of Julia's children and grandchildren, she remained, in spite of the separation, the head of the Julian race, the dynasty called to sovereignty. No wonder, then, that henceforth she stood in hostile opposition to the Claudian Livia and her two children. This deadly animosity between the two family branches of the imperial house was reflected more than two generations later in the memoirs of the great-grandchild of Scribonia, the second Agrippina, wife of the Emperor Claudius, and mother of Nero, the source whence, poisoned as it was with fiercest hate toward Livia and her son, the Emperor Tiberius, Tacitus drew the colors with which he painted both one and the other in his _Annals_."

There is good ground for believing that the marriage of Octavius and Livia was a love match. Though the new bride was descended from one of the most aristocratic and powerful families of Rome, her relatives were not especially prominent at that time; so it would seem that the triumvir's regard for her was not regulated by the calculations of expediency. Livia possessed not only beauty, but also the character of mind which was likely to charm a man with the disposition of Octavius. She was quick to understand and appreciate his intelligent purposes and far-reaching achievements. There was between the two that sympathy which is the absolute requisite of a happy marriage.

As to Livia's personal attractions, Ovid assures us that she had the features of Venus and the manners of Juno. Making not a little allowance for the flattery made necessary by the position of the courtier, and some for the license of the poet, we may still believe that the wife of the first emperor was a very beautiful woman. There are yet in existence a great many representations of her. She was the first Roman woman to have her face displayed upon the coin of the realm; but we cannot accept these images as portraits, though they bear her name. There is one Roman medal, however, which represents Livia in old age; consequently, we may safely consider it as authentic. No picture of the youthful loveliness which captivated Octavius has been preserved; but there is in the Louvre a magnificent statue which represents Livia as the goddess Ceres. There is much character in the face, and there is a sufficient resemblance to Tiberius to authorize the belief that it really portrays his mother. The form and features are those of a matron on the declining side of thirty. The figure is majestic, possibly made more so than the original for reasons complimentary to the divinity; yet it seems to justify Ovid's account of the Juno-like manners of the Augusta. The charm of youthful beauty has not yet deserted the face. The eyes, so far as can be judged from the cold, colorless marble, were lustrous and large; the mouth, with its short upper lip, was capable of both power and variety of expression, and doubtless aided Livia to obtain her will of Augustus as much by its silent eloquence as by its articulate enunciation. To the slight arch of the Roman nose she of course could claim a national right.

Three months after her marriage to Octavius, Livia gave birth to her second son. On this occasion, Caesar wrote in his journal: "To-day my wife bore me a boy, whom I caused to be sent to his father Nero." But Nero dying soon afterward, and having in his will left this child--who was named Drusus--and also the latter's brother Tiberius to the guardianship of Octavius, the children were again restored to Livia and trained as the sons of her imperial husband.

Livia's marriage with Octavius, whatever may be said of the circumstances under which it was brought about, was a happy one. For fifty-two years they lived together, a period ending only with Octavius's death; and upon her character as a wife there was never cast, even by those whose hatred she excited, the slightest reflection. In the midst of a corrupt and luxurious society, she lived in accordance with those chaste and simple principles which governed the matrons of the early Republic. It is said that her husband commonly wore clothing which was wrought by the hands of his wife and the other female members of his family. While, however, the house of Octavius was conducted after the old-fashioned method, Livia was by no means such a political nonentity as had been the matron of ancient times. She was obedient to her husband, and in all things subservient to his wishes, even going so far--if Suetonius is to be credited in the matter--as to more than condone his wandering inclinations of an amorous nature. Livia knew how to manage the first man who was able to capture and hold the government of the Roman Empire. Her tact and good sense, conjoined with his affection, enabled her to wield an influence over the emperor which had its effect in the weightiest affairs of State. Her counsel was usually in the interest of kindness and forbearance; more than once, when he was inclined to exercise severity in the punishment of his enemies, she won him to gentler methods. That he frequently sought her advice in important political matters, we know; and it is on record that sometimes, when he wished to consult her on subjects of grave moment, he would first write out that which he desired to say, in order that he might present his ideas as clearly and correctly as possible.

The picture given us of Livia by the ancient historians is of a double and somewhat inconsistent character. The wife of Augustus was a model of uprightness and honor; the empress shown us by Tacitus as seeking to bring to pass her own designs in regard to the succession was heartless and unprincipled. Here are the conclusions drawn by Merivale, and they form a verdict in which probably most students of Roman history will agree: "In her second home, she directed all her arts to securing her position, and became, perhaps, in no long course of time, as consummate a dissembler and intriguer as Octavius himself. While, indeed, she seconded him in his efforts to cajole the Roman people, she was engaged, not less successfully, in cajoling him. Her elegant manners, in which she was reputed to exceed the narrow limits allowed by fashion and opinion to the Roman matrons, proved no less fascinating to him than her beauty. Her intellect was undoubtedly of a high order; and when her personal charms failed to enchain his roving inclinations, she was content with the influence she still continued to hold over his understanding The sway she acquired over him in the first transports of courtship she retained without change or interruption to the day of his death."

Before we turn our attention to the history of Livia's efforts to secure the succession for her son Tiberius, let us fill out the picture in which she stands by placing in it some of the noted women by whom she was surrounded. First and foremost, there is Octavia, the half-sister of Cæsar Augustus. For this noble woman the ancient writers have nothing but the most enthusiastic praise. Plutarch briefly describes her as a "wonder of a woman." Fortunately, we know more of her than is expressed in that superlative phrase. Her mother's name was Atia, and she was a few years older than Octavius. The historian above quoted claims for her so much beauty that she did not suffer in that respect in comparison with her great Egyptian rival, Cleopatra; but the figures of her which are extant hardly support the claim. Nor was she clever like Cleopatra; indeed, she had little to recommend her except her relationship with the powerful Octavius, her sterling goodness, and the sweet amiability of her character. For this reason her marriage to Antony was as great a failure in the purpose for which it was intended--the winning of the triumvir from his infatuation--as it was a misfortune to herself. That a woman like Octavia should be united to such a man as Mark Antony did not seem to the ancients such a tragedy as it appears to us; and probably the sister of Octavius endured with an unconcern incomprehensible to us the knowledge that her husband had been the lover of many women, some even of the most abandoned sort.

For a while, Octavia did exercise a restraining influence over her wayward husband; and though she could not gird on a sword and harangue the legions, as did Fulvia, more than once by her prudence and good sense she helped Antony materially in his time of need. It also seems that while his wife was by his side he was able to withstand any propensity that was in him to go down into Egypt. Plutarch recounts that Antony having a misunderstanding with Octavius, the two were about to oppose their forces in civil strife at Tarentum. Octavia, however, obtained leave of her husband to visit the camp of her brother; "and as she was on her way she met Cæsar, with his two friends Agrippa and Mæcenas, and, taking these two aside, with urgent entreaties and much lamentation she told them that from being the most fortunate woman upon earth she was in danger of becoming the most unhappy; for as yet everyone's eyes were fixed upon her as the wife and sister of the two great commanders, but, if rash counsels should prevail, and war ensue, 'I shall be miserable,' said she, 'without redress; for on what side soever victory falls, I shall be sure to be a loser.'" Caesar was overcome by these entreaties, and advanced in a peaceable temper to Tarentum, where he was entertained by Antony. "And when at length an agreement was made between them ... Octavia further obtained of her husband twenty light ships for her brother, and of her brother a thousand foot for her husband. So, having parted good friends, Caesar went immediately to make war with Pompey to conquer Sicily," and Antony repaired to Syria, where he once more met the Egyptian queen; and from this infatuation Octavia was never again able to win him.

Yet this admirable woman did not cease to fulfil her part as a dutiful and helpful wife. When her husband returned from his disastrous expedition against the Parthians, having lost a great part of his forces and all his supplies, he received a message from Octavia asking where she might meet him. The answer received by her was a peremptory and unfeeling command not to proceed further than Athens, as he was about to start on a new expedition. Displeased though she was, being fully aware of the cause wherefore she was not welcome, she wrote again, asking to know to what place she should send the soldiers, money, and presents she had brought for his use.

On her return to Rome, Cæsar, incensed at the treatment his sister had received, commanded her to leave Antony's house and repudiate all further connection with him. This she steadfastly refused to do. She continued to live in her husband's house until she was obliged to leave by his own command. Then she took with her own children those of Fulvia; and after the death of Antony, she even welcomed to her home the daughter which had been born to him by her Egyptian rival, and it was impossible for the Romans to perceive that she gave less motherly care to the young Cleopatra than she bestowed upon her own offspring.