Under the preceding emperors, moral courtiers had been in favor. Now, the opposite example was set, and the women as well as the men were much more eager to rush into profligacy than they had been, under Marcus Aurelius, to take up philosophy. The two empresses were leaders in the new fashion. Crispina, the wife of Commodus, either carried her intrigues too far or in some other way made herself obnoxious to her husband, for she was banished to Capri and shortly afterward put to death. It is noticeable that the worst men were the quickest to punish laxity in the conduct of their own wives. They were more suspicious; they had a more alert sense of amorous possibilities; they were in a better position to discover clues; and they were devoid of conscience, which, at least, might have dictated to them a policy of fair play.
Lucilla, the daughter of Marcus Aurelius and the sister of Commodus, inherited nothing of her grandmother's character with her name. Atavism in her case was not effectual. She had been the spouse of her father's colleague, Verus, and she retained her imperial honors from this connection; so that she occupied the emperor's box at the theatre and had the sacred fire, the symbol of majesty, carried before her as she passed through the streets. Her lovers were numerous.
Apart from such failings as those sensual indulgences so customary among the Romans, the reign of Commodus for the first three years was fairly respectable. He had as yet shown no symptom of mercilessness; but one night, as he was traversing an ill-lighted passage in the palace, a Senator rushed upon him with the words: "The Senate sends you this." The threat saved the emperor's life, the guards at once overpowering the assassin. The plot owed its origin to Lucilla. Dissatisfied with the second place in the Empire, the misguided woman designed, upon the death of her brother, to place on the throne one of her lovers, with whom she would reign in concert. That her destined accomplice was not Claudius Pompeianus, her respectable though somewhat aged husband, may be assumed from the fact that he was not privy to the plot. Lucilla was punished with exile and, later, with death. From this time, Commodus gave rein to his cruel disposition without restraint; the slightest suspicion on his part, or an insinuation on that of his favorites, sufficed to authorize an execution. Rome had once been at the mercy of a buffoon who was deluded with the idea that he possessed a heavenly voice; she was now ravaged by a gladiator who believed himself to be a second Hercules. His extravagance being enormous, and the execution of the rich being the easiest way to recuperate the treasury, many women as well as men lost their lives on account of their wealth.
Among the possessions of one of his victims, Commodus discovered a very beautiful woman, with whom he at once fell desperately in love. There is in the Cabinet de France a bronze medallion representing the features of Commodus and Marcia conjoined in profile. There are also other indications that this woman, whom the emperor made his concubine, was accorded almost the honors of an empress. She is traditionally credited with having been a Christian; but, though she may have favored Christianity, and probably it was to her influence that its adherents owed their safety during this reign, her own life did not so closely correspond with the teaching of that faith as to render her worthy of the title of Christian.
Marcia endeavored to dissuade her imperial lover from some of his bloodthirsty purposes, and as a reward he placed her own name with that of two of his chief officials on his tablets which contained the list of the fated. These tablets were discovered under his pillow and fell into Marcia's hands. She realized that desperate measures were immediately demanded. Consulting with the others whose lives were threatened, they decided that she should administer to the emperor poison in his wine. This she did; but, doubtful as to the effect, they introduced a young wrestler, who strangled Commodus in his sleep. No assassination planned by a female mind was ever more excusable than this. The act saved Marcia her life, and rid the world of one in comparison with whom the monsters slain by Perseus were desirable neighbors.
For a time the Empire went begging for a ruler. Pertinax, a man who from being the son of a charcoal dealer had raised himself to the position of consul, was chosen by the assassins of Commodus; but Pertinax was not eager for the exalted but dangerous position of emperor. He offered it to some of the Senators, but they declined the magnificent gift with thanks. The soldiers, finding in their camp a Senator whom they preferred to Pertinax, proposed to make him emperor; but he escaped and ran away from the city. Pertinax was at last induced to accept; and could he have retained the rule, Rome would have entered again upon a period like that of Trajan. He refused to allow his wife to take the title of Augusta, judging that she had done nothing to earn it. He put up to auction the inmates of the seraglio of Commodus, in order to replenish the empty treasury, giving, however, their liberty to those who had been forcibly abducted from their homes. But his government was too rigid for the prætorian guard, and they ended it by assassinating him after a reign of only eighty days.
There was in Rome at this time a woman named Manlia Scantilla. She was the wife of a Senator, by name Julianus, who possessed immense wealth and had filled all the highest offices of the State. After the murder of Pertinax, Manlia heard that the prætorian guards were offering the Empire to the highest bidder. Her household was at the moment sitting down to a sumptuous banquet. Manlia and her daughter, carried away by their ambition, urged Julianus not to miss so favorable an opportunity to seat himself on the throne and to clothe them in the imperial purple; if wealth was the only qualification, Julianus possessed it. He hurried to the camp, and while the father-in-law of the dead Pertinax made his offers from within he raised them from without the ramparts. At last the Empire was knocked down to him for six thousand two hundred and fifty drachmas [about one thousand two hundred and fifty dollars] to each prætorian. After he had received the oaths of his new guards and had been presented to the Senate, he went to the palace. There he saw, still untouched, the frugal meal which had been prepared for Pertinax. Contemptuously sneering at this, he commanded a banquet to be served that was worthy of an emperor, at which he, Manlia, and their friends, while regaling themselves, were entertained by the performances of Pylades, a celebrated dancer. Their occupancy of the palace, however, was brief. The people were disgusted, and the legions in the provinces were roused to furious indignation. Pescennius Niger, commanding in Syria, was proclaimed emperor by his soldiers, and Septimus Severus received the same honor in Upper Pannonia. The latter marched upon Rome, and Julianus was soon convinced that his high-priced glory was not a good bargain. He was without support, though he endeavored to maintain the regard of the prætorians by executing Marcia, who had slain their darling Commodus; but the guards who had sold him the Empire were not minded to sacrifice themselves by maintaining him in its possession. They made no resistance when the Senate passed a decree of deposition and death against Julianus, at the same time acknowledging Severus as emperor. The former was beheaded, after reigning sixty-six days.
Once more Rome was to have an emperor worthy of the name. The manner in which Severus was received in the city was a good omen for his reign. "At the city's gates," says Dion Cassius, "Severus dismounted from his horse, and laid aside his military dress before entering Rome; but his whole army followed him into the city. It was the most imposing sight I ever saw. Throughout the city were garlands of flowers and laurel wreaths; the houses, adorned with hangings of different colors, were resplendent with the fire of sacrifices and the light of torches. The citizens, clad in white, filled the air with acclamations, and the soldiers advanced in martial order, as if at a triumph. We Senators headed the procession, wearing the insignia of our rank."
With the enthronement of Septimus Severus, there came to the city as his wife one of the most remarkable women of Roman history. Julia Domna was a native of Emesa in Syria, but at the same time a Roman subject. Severus had lost his first wife while he was governor in Gaul; and while he was commanding in Syria he became acquainted with the daughter of Bassianus, priest of the Sun. It was not alone Julia's beauty that captivated him, though the bust and the noble stola-clad statue which are still preserved at Rome warrant the opinion that a single man of any susceptibility might well have excused in himself the lack of any other consideration. Severus, however, was a student of omens and divination, and well versed in the science of astrology. Julia's nativity had been cast, and the stars indicated that she was to be the wife of a sovereign. This decided Severus. He concluded that he could not do better than link his fortunes with those of a young lady who, though poor at present, had in prospect a future so promising. Julia Domna deserved all that the stars could predict for her. With the attractions of her person were united unusual powers of mind. It is said of her that she was capable of great boldness of purpose and equal prudence in putting her plans into effect; and to her is attributed also a strength of mind that is uncommon in her sex. Severus held her in the highest regard, and she was so accustomed to accompany him on his expeditions that she also earned that title which the soldiers always bestowed on such ladies--"The Mother of the Camps." On inscriptions she was spoken of as domina--the mistress. The number of these inscriptions proves the popularity of Julia among the Greeks also, by whom she was honored as "a new Demeter."
This empress was a patroness of letters; her friends were principally among the learned and the students of philosophy. Severus himself, we are told, greatly admired one of the ladies of her circle because she could read and understand Plato. It is extremely pleasant, after a long list of empresses the records of whose frailties are exceedingly monotonous, to imagine Julia Domna engaged in the study of the highest problems of life and befriending such men as Ulpian and Galen. She thus earned for herself the title of Julia the Philosopher. There is every reason to believe that Diogenes Laertius dedicated to her his History of the Greek Philosophers. The book is dedicated to a woman who greatly admired the Academy; but as the name and the dedicatory epistle are missing, it is not absolutely certain whether it was Arria, mentioned in an earlier chapter, or the empress, who was thus honored. There is no doubt, however, that Julia engaged Philostratus to write for her the life of Apollonius of Tyana, the great Pythagorean thaumaturgist.