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.