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.
Judging by what we know of her, no age has produced a more beautiful
character than that of Octavia. In her were exemplified the fairest of
those qualities which are especially inculcated by the principles of
Christianity. Goodness, long-suffering, forbearance, and gentleness:
these were exhibited in her life to a degree which after ages refused to
believe possible under paganism; which goes to show that the idea that
the noblest graces of character could not ripen previous to the present
era is an unwarranted assumption. It arises from the fact that in the
accounts we have of the ancient world there is more said of the exercise
and the consequences of violent passions and human depravity than there
is of pure love and kindly forbearance; but this may be accounted for by
the well-attested axiom that peaceful lives furnish no history. If
Octavia, living in the very centre of all the varied influences which
fomented around the Palatine Hill, could maintain a pure and noble
character, we may be very sure that the women who followed her example
in the humbler walks of life were not so few as the Pagan satirists and
the Christian apologists combine in leading us to suppose. There is no
record of Octavia's having taken part in any of those activities by
which Livia and other feminine members of the Cæsarian household
endeavored to affect the course of political events.
When all hope of
there being any male issue of Augustus to inherit his rule was
abandoned, the chance that Octavia's son by her first husband would be
the next emperor seemed to become a certainty. Of her bereavement in his
death we will speak later on. As the women with which this chapter deals
were all of one family, and consequently were at home under the same
roof, and, moreover, as the art of building had at this time attained
its perfection at Rome, it will enable us to form a better picture of
the life of these women if we see them in the house, their peculiar
sphere.
About the time that Augustus married Livia, he built for himself a new
residence. The Domus Augustana was erected on the Palatine Hill, and
from the fact that this site was adopted for the imperial abode the
magnificent structures reared upon it were called palaces; thus a word
of differentiation was provided for the dwelling houses of the rulers.
Livia's palace was not a large building, judging from what was
considered necessary at a time when rich families were served by
hundreds of slaves; but Livia was married to a man who was quite willing
to have others of a lower rank outstrip him in extravagant living, so
long as he had the power to decide whether or not it were best for the
interests of the State that they be allowed to live at all; and as the
Augusta had some influence in these decisions, she may have been able
contentedly to visit the wife of Mæcenas, who lived in a house of far
greater magnificence than her own. As the better class of Roman abodes
were all constructed after the same general plan, it is not difficult,
in imagination, out of the materials of information which we possess, to
reërect upon its ruins, which still exist, the Domus Augustana.
The portico which adorned the outside extended the whole length of the
front of the house, and possibly around the sides. It was a colonnade of
native travertine--some of the later occupants of the imperial throne
were hardly satisfied with the costliest marble. The vestibule was a
large apartment, which was always freely open to clients and callers.
The _Salve_ inscribed or worked in mosaic upon the threshold of the
outer door expressed the generous hospitality which characterized all
Roman dwellings of that time. From the vestibule another door led to the
_atrium_, the most important room in the house. It was large, and
decorated with all the splendor which the wealth of the owner could
warrant, and with such beauty as his taste might dictate. It was
roofed, with the exception of an opening in the centre, called the
_compluvium_, through which was admitted the rain water into a cistern
in the floor. In the early times the _atrium_ was the common room of the
family, and in it were carried on the domestic occupations presided over
by the mistress of the house, but in the days of Livia it was the
audience chamber of the owner. The walls of this apartment were highly
decorated with landscape paintings, or else lined with beautiful
marbles. Some of the paintings which covered the walls of the Domus
Augustana have been preserved, and in the great spaces through which
they were seen their brilliant colors must have been very effective.
Opening from the _atrium_ was the _tablinum_; here were the family
archives, the statues, pictures, and other ancestral relics. Around
these great apartments ware smaller chambers, which were commonly used
for the lodging of guests, though it is probable that Livia's
establishment included a house set apart for this purpose. Behind the
apartments we have described, and reached through _fauces_, or narrow
passages, was the real interior and private portion of the palace. First
there came the peristyle. This was a large, oblong court, open to the
sky in the middle and surrounded by a colonnade of polished marble
pillars. The centre of this court was filled with shrubs and flowers,
grown in great boxes of earth; and the beauty and comfort of this
charming "drawing room" were enhanced by the cool fountains of water
with which Rome was so bountifully supplied. Here was Livia's forum.
Here was the fitting stage where she displayed those gifts of mind and
graces of person which never lost their potent influence with her
husband and gave her title of Augusta a real political significance.
Opening from the peristyle was the _triclinium_, or dining hall. It was
here that the extravagance of the Romans was especially exhibited. In
_La Palais de Scaurus_, by Mazois, there is a pen picture of a
_triclinium_, every detail of which is authenticated by ancient
authorities. It reveals a luxury and a disregard of expense to which our
day furnishes no parallel. But the banquet hall of the Augustan house
was not equipped in so costly a fashion; there was still cherished some
remembrance of the ancient Sabine simplicity.
In addition to the apartments mentioned, there were spacious halls and
salons used for such purpose as that of a picture gallery or a library.
The bed chambers were usually placed between the outer walls of the
house and the more important rooms; the only remarkable features about
them were their smallness and inconvenience. There was an upper story,
which was used principally for sleeping apartments, and probably there
were no windows opening to the street except on this second floor. The
rear part of the house was given up to the kitchen, the bakery, and the
mill for grinding flour. Above all, in a literal and also commendatory
sense of the word, was the solarium. This was a delightful retreat on
the roof, furnished with plants, flowers, and fountains.
It was to such an abode as this that Livia came, and there brought her
influence to bear on one of the most brilliant epochs of the world's
history. After her repudiation by Antony, Octavia and her children also
came to reside at the Domus Augustana; and there lived also the little
Julia, the daughter of Scribonia and Octavius.
How early in her career Livia commenced laying her plans for the
succession of her son to the imperial rule, we do not know; nor is there
any certainty as to the extent of her culpability in carrying them out.
It is most likely that her hope that she might bear a son to Augustus
who would have an indisputable claim to the heritage allowed her at
first to view with complacency the already existing putative but more
removed successors. Time wore on, and her expectations failed of
realization. Her sons, Tiberius and Drusus, were growing up, and both
were manifesting those qualities which showed them worthy of taking the
reins of government. The habit of exercising an influence in the affairs
of State, through the confidence placed in her by her husband, made the
prospect of having to relinquish that power, in the event of the death
of Augustus, constantly more intolerable; but the woman who was called
"a female Ulysses" was likely to win her way.
Julia, though the only child born in the purple, might not inherit the
imperial sceptre, being a woman. But Octavia had a son of her first
marriage, named Marcellus, of whom Augustus was especially fond. While
he was but a youth of seventeen, Julia, then fourteen years old, was
given to him in marriage; and thus it was hoped the succession would be
continued by means of the union of the daughter and the nephew of the
emperor. These anticipations were doomed to disappointment, as Marcellus
died shortly after the marriage. One historian, Dion Cassius, informs us
that it was whispered about that Livia was responsible for the death of
Julia's husband, being jealous because Cæsar heaped upon him favors
which were denied to her own sons; but, while relating this, the
historian claims that it was a groundless accusation.
However, we have
it on the authority of so trustworthy a witness as Seneca that Octavia,
in this sad bereavement, for once was unworthy of herself. He says that
"she turned to hate all mothers, and the angry passion of her sorrow was
directed principally against Livia, because that now the hope and
prospects that had belonged to her own son were transferred to the son
of Livia." Such unreasoning grief in this otherwise noble woman was a
mark of common human frailty; but it does not present so pleasing a
picture as that memorable scene in which Virgil, at the command of
Augustus, read before Octavia the sixth book of his Æneid, in which he
has commemorated Marcellus. Grief-stricken and dejected as she was,
Octavia probably gave but little attention to the opening lines; but her
interest was aroused as the poet proceeded to describe Æneas's visit to
the under world, where dwelt those who had been dearest to her, and
whither she knew herself to be rapidly tending. When she heard the
lines--
"This youth, the blissful vision of a day, Shall just be shown on earth, then snatched away,"
she was startled by the description of her own son, and, hiding her
face, she burst into tears; and when the poet uttered the words "_Tu
Marcellus eris_," which he had wisely withheld to the end of the
passage, she could endure no more and swooned because of the intensity
of her sorrowful emotion. The information that she ordered Virgil to be
presented with ten thousand sesterces for every line of the passage
relating to her son is interesting, but does not add particularly to the
beauty of the scene. Shortly after this, occurred her death. Augustus
caused certain public buildings which he was at this time erecting to be
dedicated in honor of his sister.
Now that Julia was married, she was freed to some extent from that
severe discipline in which Augustus deemed it necessary to bring up the
girls of his family. Her training had been very strict.
She had even
been obliged, at a time when other girls of far inferior birth were
perfecting themselves in more fashionable accomplishments, to assist her
aunt and her stepmother in spinning wool for her father's clothes. She
was denied any freedom of intercourse with the youths of her own age.
Augustus once wrote to a young nobleman: "You have not behaved with
proper respect in paying a visit to my daughter at Baiæ." But natural
inclination, always stronger than discipline in determining the
direction of a moral career, led Julia into evil courses. For many
years, however, her father saw nothing less innocent in her conduct than
that wit and gayety of spirit which he easily condoned.
She well knew
how to turn the edge of the mild rebukes of a fond parent. On one
occasion, seeing her surrounded at a public exhibition by a number of
the young fashionables of the city, and noticing that she did not
maintain that dignity of deportment which he thought becoming in the
daughter of an emperor, Augustus wrote her a letter expressing his
displeasure and holding up before her the example of Livia, who
encouraged in her company none but "grave and reverend signiors." Julia
had a ready reply; this was the note scribbled on a tablet and sent back
to her father: "These young men will also have become old fogies by the
time I am an old woman." One day, later in her life, her father found a
slave engaged in plucking the gray hairs from his daughter's head. This
operation suddenly ceased on his entrance, and he feigned not to have
noticed it. Then he asked abruptly: "Julia, which would you rather
be--gray or bald?" "Why, father, gray, of course," "You little liar,"
replied Augustus, "see here," and he held up some of the gray hairs
which had fallen on her dressing gown.
Shortly after the death of Marcellus, Julia was again married, this time
to the great warrior Agrippa, the staunch friend of her father. This
also was distinctly a political marriage. Julia was eighteen, Agrippa
was forty-two, while at the time of betrothal he was already wedded to
Marcella, the daughter of Octavia. The usual divorce severed these
bonds, and Marcella was given to Antonius, the son of the triumvir. Both
Octavia and Scribonia were desirous of this matrimonial readjustment.
They probably saw that Julia needed a firm disciplinarian like Agrippa
to keep the questionable proclivities of her character from attaining
too exuberant a freedom. It is also likely that they hoped that this
union would result in heirs who would frustrate the expectations of
Livia and her sons. But to their check thus played, Livia, in due time,
answered with a decisive mate. To Julia and Agrippa there were born
three sons and one daughter, named respectively Lucius, Caius, Agrippa
Posthumus, and Julia. Thus Tacitus relates the dénouement: "Augustus had
adopted Lucius and Caius into the Cæsarian family; and although they had
not yet laid aside the puerile garment, his ambition was strong to see
them declared princes of the Roman youth, and even mentioned for the
consulship; at the same time, he affected to decline these honors for
them. Upon the death of Agrippa, they were cut off, either by a decease
premature but natural, or by the arts of their stepmother Livia: Lucius
on his journey to the armies in Spain, Caius on his return from Armenia,
ill of a wound. And as Drusus had been long since dead, Tiberius Nero
was the only surviving stepson. On him every honor was accumulated, he
was adopted by Augustus as his son and a colleague in the Empire ... and
this was brought about, not by the secret machinations of his mother, as
heretofore, but at her open suit. For over Augustus, now aged, she had
obtained such absolute sway that he had banished his only surviving
grandson, Agrippa Posthumus, a person of clownish brutality, with great
bodily strength, but convicted of no heinous offence."
Julia had by this time worked out her own condemnation.
Those stories of
her flagrant misconduct which for years had been part of the common
gossip of the baths and porticoes of the city at last reached the ears
of her father. He tried not to believe them. Gazing fondly upon his only
child, he said; "Just like her I am sure that Claudia must have looked,
of whom our forefathers told that she was slandered. But she proved her
innocence." Those to whom he said this listened respectfully; but behind
his back they sneered. After Agrippa's death, Julia had made another
political marriage. Tiberius had been compelled to put away his wife,
Vipsania, the daughter of Agrippa, whom he dearly loved,--she was
probably the only human being for whom this morose man ever had any real
affection,--and was forced, much against his will, to replace her by
Agrippa's widow. Tiberius knew Julia as her father did not; and, rather
than live with her, he betook himself to a voluntary exile in Rhodes. By
thus doing, he seemed to frustrate all his mother's plans for his
advancement; but she, with deadly persistency, determined that there
should be in Cæsar's family no other candidate for the imperial
position, which must soon be vacated. There is some hint of Julia's
misdoings coming to light through the discovery of a plot, in which
Livia had no part, to shorten the emperor's days; but there is no proof,
nor does it seem probable, that Julia was a conspirator against her
father's life. She was probably the tool of others.
Augustus, however,
was constrained to institute an investigation, which revealed to him all
the turpitude of his daughter's conduct; she was banished to an island
in the Bay of Naples, and there strictly guarded until the day of her
death.
The case of Julia gives no occasion for pity, except for the gray-haired
old man who had lost by death all those upon whom he had rested his
ambitious hopes for the future of his house. None were left save
Livia,--probably Augustus himself never for a moment entertained a
suspicion that his wife was the cause of his misfortunes,--Tiberius,
whom he never loved, and this woman, whom he wished had died in her
infancy. And yet the edge is taken from any sympathy one might have for
Augustus, when it is remembered that, notwithstanding his stern demand
for chastity on the part of the women of his own family and all of noble
birth, his own conduct, if Suetonius reports truthfully, was no better
than that of his daughter. But to condemn licentiousness in their women
and to practise it themselves did not seem to the men of Rome to be
either illogical or inconsistent.
Julia represented the prevalent social conditions of her time.
Licentiousness, like a cancer, was eating into the heart of Roman
society; and this was to grow still worse. It must be admitted also that
female degeneracy kept pace with the increase of woman's influence in
the political world. Livia and Agrippina the Elder were exceptions; but
the rule was, and has been in all history, that the activity of women in
State affairs was accompanied by an abundance of meretricious amatory
intrigues. It is a remarkable fact that in the history of the Roman
woman--and possibly this statement might be given a much wider