It was not surprising that such a state of things should exist among women, when the men wore golden soles to their shoes, plucked out the hairs of the beard one by one, and applied bread dipped in milk to the face, to freshen the complexion.
Still, in all periods of Roman history, there were bright examples of female excellence. When Coriolanus, in revenge for ungrateful treatment, threatened to destroy Rome with an invading army, the remonstrances and proposals of the nobility and senate had no effect on his stubborn pride. The Roman matrons persuaded his mother Veturia, and his wife Vergilia, to go to his camp, and try their influence in appeasing his resentment. The meeting between Coriolanus and his family was extremely affecting. For a while he remained inflexible; but the entreaties of a mother and a wife finally prevailed over his stern and vindictive resolutions. The senate decreed that Veturia and Vergilia should receive any favor they thought proper to ask. They merely begged permission to build a temple to the Fortunes of Women, at their own expense. The senate immediately ordered that it should be erected on the very spot where Coriolanus had been persuaded to save Rome. They likewise decreed them public thanks; ordered the men to give place to them upon all occasions; and permitted the Roman ladies to add another ornament to their head-dress!!
Veturia was made priestess of the new temple, into which no woman who had married a second husband was allowed to enter.
Portia, the daughter of Cato and wife of Brutus, was remarkable for her prudence, philosophy, and domestic virtues. She wounded herself severely, and endured the pain in silence, to convince her husband that she had sufficient courage to be intrusted with his most dangerous secrets. Brutus admired her fortitude, and no longer concealed from her his intended conspiracy against Cæsar. On the day when she knew the assassination was to take place, she fainted away with excess of anxiety; but she faithfully kept the secret that had been intrusted to her. When she parted from Brutus, after the death of Cæsar, a picture of Hector and Andromache, that was hanging on the wall, brought tears to her eyes. A friend of Brutus, who was present, repeated the address of the Trojan princess:
“Be careful, Hector! for with thee my all,
My father, mother, brother, husband, fall.”
Brutus replied, smiling, “I must not answer Portia in the words of Hector, ‘Mind your wheel, and to your maids give law;’ for in courage, activity, and concern for her country’s freedom, she is inferior to none of us; though the weakness of her frame does not always second the strength of her mind.” A false rumor having prevailed that Brutus was dead, Portia resolved not to survive him. Her friends, aware of her purpose, placed every weapon beyond her reach; but she defeated their kindness by swallowing burning coals.
The emperor Augustus is said to have seldom worn any domestic robes that were not woven by his wife, his sister, his daughters, or his nieces. His sister Octavia was celebrated for her beauty and her virtues. When her husband, Mark Antony, deserted her for the sake of Cleopatra, she went to Athens to meet him, in hopes of withdrawing him from this disgraceful amour; but she was secretly rebuked, and entirely banished from his presence. Augustus highly resented this affront to a beloved sister, but she gently endeavored to pacify him, and made all possible excuses for Antony. When she heard of her husband’s death, she took all his children into her house, and treated them with the utmost tenderness. She gave Virgil ten thousand sesterces for every line of his encomium upon her excellent and darling son Marcellus. The poet was requested to repeat these verses in the presence of Augustus and his sister. Octavia burst into tears as soon as he began; but when he mentioned Tu Marcellus eris, she swooned away. She was supposed to have died of melancholy, occasioned by her son’s death. Augustus himself pronounced her funeral oration, and the Roman people evinced their respect for her character by wishing to pay her divine honors.
Agrippina, the granddaughter of Augustus, was a model of purity in the midst of surrounding corruption. She accompanied her husband Germanicus into Germany, shared in all his toils and dangers, and attached herself to him with the most devoted affection. She often appeared at the head of the troops, appeasing tumults, and encouraging bravery. Tiberius, jealous of virtues that reflected so much dishonor on his own licentious court, entered into machinations against them. Germanicus was poisoned, and Agrippina exiled and treated with the utmost indignity. Despairing of redress, she refused all sustenance, and died.
Arria, the wife of Pætus, not being allowed to accompany her husband to Rome, when he was carried thither to be tried for conspiracy against the government, followed the vessel in a fisherman’s bark hired for the occasion. She exerted every means to save his life; and when she found all her efforts unavailing, she advised him to avoid the disgrace and torture that awaited him, by voluntary death. Seeing that he hesitated, she plunged the dagger into her own heart, and gave it to him with a smile, saying, “It gives me no pain, my Pætus.” In judging of these examples, we must remember that the Romans, in their sternness and stoicism, regarded suicide as a virtue.