Women in Rome by Alfred Brittain - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

PREFACE

The student of history does not proceed far in his researches before he

discovers that human nature is a fixed quality. Other lands, other

manners; other times, other customs. But the man behind the manner is

essentially the same; the woman under the changed custom is not thereby

rendered essentially different, any more than she is by a varying of

costume. The women of ancient Rome exemplified the same virtues, and

were impelled by the same foibles as are the women of to-day. And the

difference in environment, the vanished conditions of Roman life, gain

large scientific interest from the fact that they did not result in any

dissimilarity of fundamental character. If, by the most violent exercise

of the imagination, it were possible to transport a female infant of the

twentieth century, and cause her to be reared among the women of the

Augustan age, she would fit as naturally into her surroundings as she

would into the present society of London or of New York.

Her legal

status would be different; her moral conceptions would be unlike those

of the present age; her duties, pleasures, privileges, and limitations

would combine to make the accidents of life very different. But

underneath all this, the same humanity, the same femininity, the same

habits of mind are revealed. Herein is the chief use of history--above

that of gratifying natural curiosity--the ascertaining how human nature

will comport itself under varying conditions. The author hopes that the

following pages, wherein the Roman woman is taken as an illustration,

will be found of use to the student of the science of humanity, and not

uninteresting to the reader inquisitive as to the manner of the ancient

civilization.

ALFRED BRITTAIN.

I

THE WOMAN OF LEGENDARY ROME

The conditions which governed the life of woman in the earliest days of

Roman history are too far removed from the searchlight of historical

investigation for us to essay to indicate them with any degree of

fulness and accuracy of detail. While it is true that the ancient

writers have bequeathed to us records of historic events from the very

founding of their nation, the source of their information is very

questionable and its authenticity extremely doubtful.

Rome did not

cultivate literature until very late in her history; she was too greatly

preoccupied in her rôle of conquering the world. At a time when every

Greek was acquainted with the noblest poetry produced by his gifted

race, Rome had not produced a single writer whose name has been

preserved. And if at that time she had possessed any men of letters, it

is quite certain that there were few of her citizens who would have been

able to read their works. Hence, when the first attempt was made to

write her history, the authors depended principally for their material

on traditions and legends which, as is the case with all such lore, had

gained greatly in marvellousness at the expense of historical value. In

addition to these sources, it is probable that during the early

centuries annals were kept of the principal happenings in the State.

According to Cicero, they were written at the end of each year by the

high priest. These records were used by the first historians; and it is

likely that the latter were not so greatly restrained, by their literary

conscience, from enlarging on the material, as they were tempted,

according to the power of their imagination, to present a picture both

interesting and satisfactory to the national pride. In many cases, as

where the exact words of their characters are reported, the ancient

historians evidently deemed that any deficiencies in the matter of proof

were abundantly atoned for by the explicitness of the information given.

As to the historical value of legends, that is a question upon which

modern writers are inclined to disagree. Since the inauguration of the

higher criticism, it has been the fashion for extremists entirely to

disown any belief in the _dramatis personæ_ of ancient traditions. They

claim that the names and the actions thus celebrated usually represent

natural forces and historic evolutions; though, to the ordinary student,

this would seem to require a remarkable amount of poetic inventiveness

on the part of an undeveloped people. Moreover, it is not, perhaps,

without reason that the student often looks upon the manner in which

modern scholars reject the traditional contributions of the old

historians as being a little arbitrary. What traveller has not found his

patience sorely tried, while viewing with reverence the reputed site of

some heroic or sacred occurrence of far-off days, as he recalled to

memory the fact that the latest authorities hold that, while the thing

might have taken place a few miles to the east or a short distance to

the north, it, for certain erudite but unconvincing reasons, could not

possibly have occurred on the spot where it has been located by the

continuous belief of centuries?

The story of Rome from its founding to the end of the regal period, as

it is told in the ancient classics, is no longer accepted as history. It

is, for the most part, classified with those mythical creations with

which an uncultured people endeavor to account for the origin and the

evolution and revolutions of their race. Yet, passing over the

marvellous and the manifestly impossible, why may we not at least claim

the right to believe the compilers of these ancient legends, when they

tell us of certain names that were great in the beginning of their

nation? Modern criticism may be right in asserting that it is not likely

that the city on the Tiber was called Roma because a man named Romulus

selected an uninhabited site and built upon it. Yet why may we not be

allowed to believe that in those early times there was one hero so

strong and masterful that he came to be known as preëminently the "Man

of Rome"? The character may have been a real one, even though the city

gave him his name, instead of the reverse, as later generations

surmised. And inasmuch as there is an Alexandria, not to speak of

innumerable modern "villes" with well-known surnames for prefixes, it

need not be thought a thing entirely incredible that the ancient city

was really called after the man who established its importance.

It is the habit of modern historians to look with suspicion upon stories

such as those which form our sole material for any personal illustration

in this present chapter, because they are of a kind so generally found

in the legends of all nations. But may not the multiplication of these

long-lived narratives, instead of disproving the intrinsic truth of any

given one, simply serve to illustrate the fact that, human nature being

a permanent factor, the doings of men under similar circumstances, in

any age or locality, will be marked by a uniformity of character? For

our present purpose, however, if in such twilight as is given by

long-preserved monuments and ancient relics, we choose to fancy that we

perceive, moving about in their daily life, the feminine forms of

traditional lore, the combination will only serve to form a more human,

and really not less accurate, picture.

The limits of our subject do not require that we should go back so far

as the epoch of Æneas, the hero of Troy; nor need we take into

consideration the part which he and Lavinia, his wife, may have played

upon the Latin shores. Their traditional coming to Italy simply serves

to indicate the fact that nearly all the tribes which inhabited the

country at the commencement of Roman history were of the same branch of

the great Aryan race as the Greeks. The Romans were the brothers of the

Greeks. The former were of that same lithe, supple-bodied,

straight-featured type which the wonderful art of the latter has

enthroned, for all the ages, as the noblest realization of ideal

physical beauty.

But when we consider the rude conditions under which life was passed, it

is probable that the highest examples of feminine grace would, in many

respects, be open to severe criticism from the civilized and artificial

taste which has prevailed in after ages. Those were the days of Arcadian

simplicity, which poetry has peopled with sweet and enticing Phyllises

and Chloes, whose only occupation was to listen to the pipings of

languishing shepherds. But, in reality, though life was simple and wants

were few, the women, as in all semi-civilized communities, gave an

overplus of labor in return for the special exertions of the men in the

chase and the combat. Hence, though the poetic conception may be

alluring, we are compelled to believe that the reality possessed but few

advantages that could arouse the envy of a modern village maiden. The

woman of earliest Rome was wholly a product of nature, endowed only

with the unfailing charms of femininity, which were solely reinforced

with the perfect health and vigor which come from a simple life.

Of such a type we may imagine Rhea Sylvia, the legendary mother of

Romulus and Remus. She was the daughter of a king, but one who was not a

monarch in the later significance of the title. Of kings there were many

in the Latium of those days. The title meant merely the patriarch of a

clan, or the head man of a small city. The regal abode was probably a

small, round structure, built of wood and roofed with straw. It may have

consisted of only one room, with a hole in the ceiling to admit light

and allow the smoke to escape. Of furniture there was little more than

rude tables and grass or leaf covered couches, together with the Lares,

or household gods. But though life conditioned by such meagre

accessories was simple, it was by no means idle, and there existed no

such contempt for labor and handicraft among the Latin tribesmen as grew

up in later times. The king himself followed the plow, while his wife

and daughters were busy with the distaff and spindle, the hand loom and

the needle. It was the duty of the women to spin the wool and to make

all the clothing for the household. Education consisted solely of the

training in the requirements of this simple life, and was provided by no

school other than the daily experience which the boys and girls gathered

among their elders. The art of writing was in the earliest days not

entirely unknown, though, during long years of slow development, it was

employed only in painting public records on leaves and skins; or, if

greater permanence was required, the records were scratched upon tablets

of wood. The amusements of the people consisted mainly of the festivals

and athletic games which were held in honor of the gods.

If it might

only be believed that this life was as pleasant as it is pictured by

Virgil, it would be easy to sympathize with the poet when he declares

that he pined for such an existence himself. "The husbandman cleaves the

earth with the crooked plow.... Winter comes: the Sicyonian berry is

pounded in the oil presses; and the autumn lays down its various

productions.... Meanwhile, the sweet babes twine around their parents'

necks; his chaste family maintain their purity. The swain himself

celebrates festal days; and extended on the grass, where a fire is in

the middle, and where his companions crown the bowl, invokes thee, O

Lanæus, making libation. On an elm is set forth to the masters of the

flock prizes to be contended for with the winged javelin; and they strip

their rustic bodies for the friendly struggle."

Elsewhere the poet

describes a home scene, where the man is working by the light of the

winter fire: "Meanwhile, his spouse, cheering by song her tedious labor,

runs over the webs with the shrill shuttle; or over the fire boils down

the liquor of the luscious must, and skims with leaves the tide of the

trembling cauldron. This life of old the ancient Sabines followed; this,

Remus and his brother strictly observed; thus Etruria grew in strength;

and thus too did Rome become the glory and beauty of the world."

Unlike their sisters of Greece, the women of Rome were never secluded;

yet their duties and responsibilities were strictly confined to domestic

bounds. Here, however, while the husband was master, the wife was

mistress. She took equal part with him in the worship of the family

Lares, which worship was a prominent feature in every Roman household;

and if he were a priest, she, by her marriage to him, became a

priestess. But, except in certain religious institutions, she had not

the slightest active connection with State or public affairs. That is,

she had no such connection in theory and according to law; but it was in

Rome as it has been in all ages and in all countries: there were no laws

or customs that could prevent a woman who possessed gifts of mind and

cherished ambitious projects from gaining some tool by means of whom her

hand might turn the affairs of State to her will.

To this strenuous class of women, however, Rhea Sylvia did not belong.

Her euphonious name has been preserved, not because of any active

influence which she wielded over the destinies of men, but because,

through the simple function of motherhood, she introduced into the

history of the world a strong man. She was the daughter of Numitor, to

whom his father had bequeathed the kingdom of the Sylvian clan. But

Amulius, another son, had driven his brother into exile, and, in order

to secure himself in his usurpation, had put all his nephews to death.

Rhea was spared, probably on account of the fact that the law did not

allow women to reign, and hence her existence held no threat.

Nevertheless, since of the women of princely houses are born possible

claimants to thrones. Amulius deemed it best that some preventive

measure should be taken. He evidently did not wish to commit unnecessary

barbarities; and he also liked, if possible, to cover his

self-protective actions with a gloss of seeming generosity. Rhea Sylvia

should be the priestess of Vesta. Hers should be the honorable duty of

guarding the perpetual fire which burned on the sacred hearth of the

city. Thus she, as was befitting the daughter of Numitor, would be held

in as high regard among the people as the queen herself.

Incidentally,

this would also preclude the possibility of any grandson appearing to

claim the throne of the exiled Numitor; for the Vestals were most

rigidly pledged to a life of constant virginity. But how often have the

gods, and sometimes even Nature herself, thwarted the most cunningly

devised schemes of men! Upon this truism Amulius must have reflected,

when, without any previous declaration of her intention, Rhea Sylvia

introduced to the community a sturdy pair of twins. She declared that

Mars was the father of her offspring; either, as Livy discreetly

remarks, because she believed it to be so, or because a god seemed the

most creditable author of her offence. In those times, the possibility

and the frequent occurrence of such matches were devoutly believed, and

the first historians freely availed themselves of this belief to enhance

the glory of their race, or of a powerful family, by establishing for it

the reputation of a divine origin. The idea of superhuman parentage was

also a convenient means by which to account for, and sometimes excuse,

the unusual character and extraordinary deeds of ancient heroes. In

those days, when men's faith was simple and uncritical, belief in divine

incarnation presented no serious difficulty.

It is evident, however, that Amulius was not greatly impressed with a

sense of the sacredness of the children of the warrior-god. He threw the

mother into prison, and ordered her sons to be drowned in the Tiber.

But, as is usually and fortunately the case in legendary history, this

order was intrusted to one who was either too pitiful or too careless to

give it thorough execution. The infants, in their cradle or upon a rude

raft, were set afloat on the river, which was at that time in flood; the

waters, however, quickly subsided, and the boys were left alive on dry

ground. Their cries attracted a shepherd named Faustulus, and by him

they were carried to his home, where they were reared by his wife

Laurentia. This woman is given a bad name by the ancients. They say

that she was also called Lupa; and Lupa being the name applied to a

woman of unchaste character, as well as the term used to designate a

she-wolf, in this manner the sceptics accounted for the marvellous story

of the sons of Rhea being suckled by a wolf. But whatever may have been

the failings of Laurentia, if there be any truth whatever in the legend,

she made atonement by preserving the life of the founder of Rome. We

will not follow these traditions in their well-known details. Whether or

not Romulus was indeed the first to select the site of the city which

was to spread over seven hills by the Tiber and from them dominate the

world is as impossible to determine as it would be unimportant to our

subject if ascertained. The purpose before us is solely to inquire what

part and lot woman had in the founding of the infant State. That her

rôle was mainly a passive one may be taken for granted, as being in

accordance with the status of the weaker sex in the childhood of every

race and nation.

The ancient historians, who accepted the Romulus legend without

question, portray for us the growing town, so sturdily and rapidly

advancing in power and fame as to excite the wonder and the jealousy of

neighboring communities. One cause to which is attributed this

prosperity is interesting, since it led to a famous episode in which

women played a leading though an unwilling part. We are told that

Romulus opened within, the bounds of the city an asylum, or place of

refuge, where fugitives from justice or from servitude were received

under the protection of the gods. This attracted new citizens in great

numbers, but such as contributed nothing to the respectability of the

new State. The new-comers were, almost entirely, unmarried men; and soon

the paucity of women in Rome gave cause for grave concern. Romulus had

appointed a number of the leading citizens, whom he named as Senators,

to assist him in the government. But it was not in the power of these

city fathers to aid him materially in securing a continued growth of the

community, unless wives could be provided. Ambassadors were despatched

to the neighboring States, requesting treaties of alliance, and

especially begging the privilege of intermarriage.

Owing, doubtless, to

the questionable character of the newly acquired inhabitants of Rome,

this was a favor which no city was disposed to grant.

Everywhere the

ambassadors were confronted with the suggestion that an asylum be opened

for women also, for only by such a plan could suitable mates be obtained

for the men of Rome. Another reason, however, why wives were hard to

obtain was the fact that women were comparatively scarce throughout

Latium. The custom of exposing female infants to death was prevalent

there, as in many other ancient races, daughters being looked upon as a

source of weakness and expense to a family, as sons were a gain and a

strength. Wives, however, being a necessity, the fathers of boys often

secured as brides for their sons girls as soon as they were born. This

laid upon the parents of the latter the obligation to spare their lives

and rear them. There is no evidence that the purchase of wives was ever

a custom among the Romans. Indeed, the opposite was from time immemorial

the practice; a dower went with the bride. Hence it is easy to see why

the Latin fathers were unwilling to bestow their daughters,--who were

not likely to remain on their hands for lack of suitors,--and especially

the dowers that went with them, upon the adventurous young men who had

sought at Rome asylum from justice or vengeance.

But in those ages, and especially in such a matter as the winning of

wives, diplomacy was a resource not wholly depended upon. Among the

marriage ceremonies of later times, there was a custom of parting the

hair of the Roman bride with a spear. In this we find a reminiscence of

the period when marriage by capture was resorted to when there seemed

urgent necessity. Thus Romulus determined that what could not be gained

by fair means should be obtained by the best method which came to hand.

At the festival of the god Consus, appropriately the deity who presided

over hidden deliberations, the seizure of the Sabine maidens was planned

and carried out; and thus the Romans took to themselves wives. How

closely this well-known story corresponds with facts, of course, cannot

be determined. Possibly many of its details are attempts of later ages

to account for wedding customs, the origin of which had been forgotten.

But it is very probable that marriage by capture was common in the

embryonic civilization of early Rome. And there may have been one

occasion when this rude method of wooing was adopted in so flagrant and

wholesale a manner that it led to a war with the Sabines, by which the

remembrance of the event was perpetuated in the traditions of the

people. Michelet, commenting on this story in his brilliant manner,

says: "The progress of humanity is striking. Springing in India from

mystical love, the ideal of woman assumes in Germany the features of

savage virginity and gigantic force; in Greece, those of grace and

stratagem, to arrive among the Romans at the highest pagan morality, to

virgin and conjugal dignity. The Sabines only follow their ravishers on

compulsion, but, become Roman matrons, they refuse to return to the

paternal mansion, disarm their fathers and their husbands, and unite

them in one city." Plutarch says that it was in order to obtain

forgiveness that the Romans assured certain privileges to their wives.

No labor other than spinning should be demanded of them; they should

take the inside of the path; nothing indecent should be done or said in

their presence; they should not be summoned before the criminal judges;

and their children should wear the _pretexta_ and the _bulla_. Thus in

the time of the Greek historian the barbarism of the old times was

forgotten, and to the primitive constitution was attributed all the

civilization which it required centuries to bring about.

As fair Helen brought woe to Troy, so the abduction of the Sabine

maidens was followed by the bitter vengeance of their indignant

masculine relatives. If we may believe the old historians, the women

soon became reconciled to their enforced condition as wives of the

Romans. Doubtless the writers drew this conclusion more from their

knowledge of the yielding disposition of feminine nature than from any

precise acquaintance with the facts. It being totally uncustomary for

the woman to be allowed any decision in the matter, it was a thing of

small importance to her whether she was taken by her husband, without

either her consent or that of her father, or whether she was given by

her father to her husband, equally without being consulted.

The Sabines waited patiently for a favorable opportunity; and when it

came, they attacked the Romans with good success. They even gained

possession of the strongest fortifications of the city.

But, according

to the legend, they could not have won such advantage had it not been

for the love of gaud of Tarpeia, the daughter of one of the captains of

Romulus. Tatius, the King of the Sabines, induced her to open for him

the gates, promising as a reward the go