No positive evidence of Seneca’s guilt has come down to us. On the contrary, he has been pronounced innocent by some students of history. But he was condemned by the Senate and banished to the barren shores of Corsica. He tells us that Claudius tried to prevent this, but Messalina’s schemes were too deeply laid to be thwarted. It is remarkable that Seneca does not abuse her in any of his writings that have come down to us. He bade farewell to his noble-minded mother and his beloved brother Gallio, to his nephew Lucan, the promising young poet, and to Marcus his little boy, and then left the city, banishment from which was the sorest of trials to a Roman. He retired to his place of exile. There, amid disagreeable surroundings, he consoled himself with his philosophy and wrote a “Consolation” to his mother, Helvia, which is one of the noblest of his works. It must, however, be admitted that his fine moral precepts did not prevent his writing a letter to Polybius in which he abjectly flatters Claudius, manifestly in order to secure his release and his return to Rome. If he expected this through the intervention of Polybius, he was disappointed, for that freedman and favorite, though he had formerly much influence with Messalina, soon forfeited his life through her machinations.
Messalina succeeded a long time in concealing her real character, but when her shamelessness reached its highest pitch in her open marriage to another man, the indignation of the emperor was aroused. Then followed a new scene of tragedy. She had apparently persuaded Claudius that it was a mock marriage for a frolic, but all Rome knew better and regarded it not only as a vile procedure but an attempt to usurp the political throne. Some time before this, Messalina had coveted the gardens on the Pincian Hill, which had long been famous as the property of the luxurious Lucullus, and which at the present day may be a part of the grounds of the Villa Medici. After Lucullus it belonged to Valerius Asiaticus. So Messalina had suborned her son’s tutor, Silius, to accuse Asiaticus of corrupting the army. Thus she secured his death and then took possession of the gardens. Here, as the wild revelries that followed the detestable wedding ceremonies were at their height, one of the guests, Vettius Valens, climbed to the top of a tree; and, when they asked what he saw, he replied in language intended for a jest:
“I see a fierce storm approaching from Ostia.”
It was well known that the emperor was at that place. The storm was indeed approaching. Messengers soon arrived, saying Claudius was on the way. The news fell like a thunderbolt. Messalina implored the protection of Vibidia, the chief of the Vestal Virgins. With her children she hastened across the city to the Ostian gate to plead for the emperor’s mercy on his arrival. She mounted the cart of a market gardener, which happened to be passing. But Narcissus absorbed the attention of the emperor as she approached by accounts of her crimes; and Messalina was coldly passed by. That evening, as Claudius enjoyed the pleasures of his table, he showed some signs of softened feeling at mention of her. Narcissus knew that delay would be dangerous to himself. So he sent a tribune and centurions to kill the empress in the garden of Lucullus, to which she had returned. She was weeping in despair when the doors were battered down and the tribune and his men stood before her. She took a dagger in her hand and when she had twice stabbed herself in vain the tribune gave the fatal blow. In her death she has been well compared with Jezebel of old, who was slain on or near the ground she had wickedly taken from its owner. Claudius was still lingering at his dinner when he was informed that she had perished. He asked no questions and manifested no emotion.
Not long after this the emperor married Agrippina II, the sister of Caligula, and the daughter of Germanicus and the older Agrippina. To distinguish her from her mother she is generally called Agrippina the Second. She was a niece of Claudius.
The marriage of such close relations was repugnant to most Romans. But the artful woman managed to overcome all objections, and the wedding took place. She had inherited none of the virtues of her distinguished parents, had been brought up by wicked relatives, and had been married to Cnæus Domitius Ahenobarbus, one of the worthless young nobles of that day. By him she had one son, upon whom she lavished her natural affections. After her marriage to the emperor she worked constantly in the interests of this son, cherishing for him the greatest expectations. One of her first steps was to secure his betrothal to Octavia, the daughter of the emperor. She also induced Claudius formally to adopt him into the Claudian family, to place him in the line of succession with his own son, Britannicus, and, inasmuch as he was three years older than Britannicus, to give him actual precedence in many honors. On this adoption the young man received a new name and became known as Claudius Domitius Nero.
Agrippina also managed to get rid,—by banishment, disgrace, or death,—of one after another of the women who had been her rivals at the imperial court. Among these were Lepida and Calpurnia. Against the rich Lollia Paulina she brought a charge of sorcery and treason, and so obtained the confiscation of most of her property and her banishment from Italy. It is said that not even this satisfied her, but that she sent a tribune to bring her the head of her enemy, and that when it was laid before her she lifted the lips with her own hand to make sure, by marks on the teeth, of its identity. This horrid story is quoted by Merivale and others from the ancient historian, Dion. It has been well said that she must have even surpassed Lady Macbeth in her malignant and frigid cruelty.
Tacitus says that it was with a hope of counteracting the unpopularity that these horrors had aroused in the public mind that Agrippina recalled Seneca from his exile in Corsica and made him the tutor of her son. Thus, again, was this great philosopher brought back into the scenes of court and the public life at Rome. And thus Agrippina would undo some of the work of Messalina, whom she had heartily hated. She may have been influenced also by the consideration that Seneca was indignant with Claudius, and this might make him more helpful to her and to her son if any antagonism should arise between her and her husband. Of course, it would have been better for Seneca if he had stayed in Corsica. He came back into a most perilous environment. He may have been encouraged to do so by the knowledge that a man of the old faithful type, Afranius Burrus, was to have the very important post of prefect of the prætorian guard. Perhaps these two men were patriotic in their purpose and trusted that they were going to be able to keep matters from growing worse.
Agrippina, while she left to the emperor the friends he liked and all the insignia of power, constantly abused his confidence. It is strange that he was so pliant to her scheming and malicious will. He seems to have been, ordinarily, dull and stupid, but when aroused he was impulsive and vindictive. At last his freedman and secretary, Narcissus, began to open his eyes to the extent to which he had been duped by his wife and to her disregard of all obligations to him. He seemed deeply moved by the discovery and remarked that it had been his fate always to bear and then to punish the wickedness of his wives.