From the reign of Commodus must be dated the beginning of the Decline.
From now on, two influences are at work undermining the structure of the
ancient Empire; we see the double process of disintegration and
conversion. Pagan civilization had finished its day and must make way
for the dawn of a new era. The Roman Empire fell to pieces because the
sword, which was the only bond by which its heterogeneous conquests
could be held together, became insubordinate to the political authority.
After the second century, the army was rarely led to new foreign
victories. It became the instrument of revolt; it bartered the Empire,
and supported or assassinated adventitious claimants for the throne at
its wild caprice. At last, the old Roman spirit having entirely
departed, the barbarians made an easy prey of the decaying body.
In the meantime the gods, who, so far as their effective existence was
concerned, had been long since discredited, were deposed from the minds
of an increasing number of the people, to make room for a new and purer
faith. But the rise of Christianity did not follow the brilliant day of
paganism without an intervening night. Literature, art, and the science
of domestic and social life deteriorated, as European society fell to
the rude habits of the dark ages of feudalism. In this closing chapter,
it is our purpose to follow the fortunes of pagan woman life down to the
time when, under Constantine, Christianity became the State religion.
In the accession of Commodus is seen the return to the rule of that
despotism, joined with moral insanity, from which Rome had been free
since the days of Domitian. The Empire was again allowed to take care of
itself, while the emperor occupied himself with abominable indulgences
and murderous executions.
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.
The great historian of the Decline of the Roman Empire says that while
the grateful flattery of these learned men has extolled the virtues of
the wife of Severus, "if we may credit the scandal of ancient history,
chastity was very far from being the most conspicuous virtue of the
Empress Julia." But Gibbon rarely questions an allegation of this sort;
on the other hand, Dion Cassius, who zealously reports every such
accusation, is, for a wonder, silent on this. Julia's intellectual
tastes, not to speak of her four children, would be likely to preclude
her falling into any gross immoralities.
Associated with the empress in the palace were her sister and two
nieces, all bearing like her the name Julia. Her sister, Julia Mæsa, was
no less remarkable than the empress; and in later days, by placing her
grandsons on the throne, she presided over the destinies of the Empire
as no other woman had hitherto done. Julia Soæmias is represented on
coins as the Heavenly Virgin; but if the statement of Lampridius in
regard to her mundane frailties is to be credited, her lightly adorned
statue as Venus was more in character. Then there was Julia Mammæa, who
reared one of the best, though not of the strongest, men who attained to
the purple, and who, by her influence over his mind, held the reins of
government greatly to the immediate profit of the Empire.
Another lady of the court which surrounded Julia Domna was Plautilla,
the daughter of Plautianus the prefect. Plautianus was the emperor's
relative, and by him vested with powers almost equal to his own. He was
an ambitious man, and, while probably faithful to his master, sought to
secure his own position by marrying his daughter to the young prince
Caracalla. This marriage was forced upon Caracalla much against his
will, and proved disastrous to Plautilla; but it was an astoundingly
magnificent affair. Dion relates that he saw the dowry of the bride
carried into the palace, and declares that it was enough for fifty
kings' daughters. The same historian tells of many tyrannous
extravagances which Plautianus allowed himself on this occasion; but
when he informs us that the latter caused one hundred freeborn Romans,
many of them husbands and fathers of families, to be mutilated, in order
that his daughter might be attended by a retinue of eunuchs in the
Oriental fashion, our sense of what is possible, even in the most
despotic circumstances, rebels. The ancient anecdotist further says that
"the thing was not known until after Plautianus's death." It is surely
inconceivable that the wives of these victims should have allowed such a
thing to pass in silence.
Caracalla threatened the destruction of his bride and her father when he
should come to the throne. The latter part of this menace he put into
effect without waiting for his father's death. Plautilla seems not to
have been blameless in the matter. Her father made himself the enemy of
the empress and her son, and Plautilla with him turned the indifference
of her husband into positive hatred. The imperial family was rent with
discord. Julia Domna did not endeavor to conciliate the powerful
favorite, and he sought her ruin by means of the new laws which had been
passed against conjugal infidelity. If Dion may be believed in the
matter, the prefect went so far as to subject women of noble family to
torture, in order to procure evidence against the empress. This attempt
does not seem to have been successful, and Caracalla soon found an
opportunity to avenge the attempt to injure the reputation of his
mother. Surprising his father with an accusation of treason on the part
of the prefect, he caused the latter to be struck down before the
emperor had time to ascertain the truth. Shortly afterward, Plautilla
was exiled to Lipari; and when her husband came to the throne he caused
her to be put to death.
Under Severus were decreed a number of laws which affected the life and
the status of women. He had a strong sense of justice. When persons were
banished, the law required that their property should be confiscated. On
one occasion, when a mother and her son were about to suffer that
punishment, the mother begged that enough might be taken from her
possessions to afford her son the bare necessaries of life. The son also
pleaded that from his property his mother might receive the same mercy.
This mutual solicitude touched the emperor, and he said: "I cannot
change the law; but it shall be as you desire."
He decreed that the husband who did not avenge his murdered wife should
forfeit whatever of her dowry would otherwise legally fall to him. He
also commanded that women who deprived their husbands of the hope of
children by producing abortion should be condemned to temporary exile.
There were many women who, in slavery, were reduced to the necessity of
earning money for their owners by their own prostitution. This was their
only means of securing their liberty. It was made a misdemeanor for
anyone to reproach them for this misfortune, nor was it allowed that any
woman should be forced against her will to adopt a life of infamy. Women
were also prohibited from fighting in the arena. The laws against
adultery were rendered more severe; but, from what we can learn of the
times, this did not result in any marked effect upon social morality.
There was in existence a law forbidding provincial officials, and even
their sons, to take wives from the province to which they were
appointed. This was a wise measure; for it is easy to see how these
officials, by the power afforded them through their position, might, in
order to secure rich dowries, compel unwilling brides to accept their
suit. Nevertheless, such marriages at times did take place. In order to
enforce the spirit of the law, and to protect provincials from official
tyranny in this respect, Severus ordered that an official who had
married a wealthy heiress in his province should not be allowed to
inherit from her.
Since Rome had possessed a standing army it had always been the rule
that the soldiers should not be permitted to marry. The consequence was
that the camps were surrounded by crowds of profligate women, as well as
other women who had become the constant companions of soldiers but could
not be legally married. Severus repealed this law and allowed the
legionaries to contract legitimate marriages. Anyone who is cognizant of
the effect of the residence of a garrison of unmarried soldiers in a
European town can understand what a salutary influence this enactment of
Severus would have upon general morality.
The principal thing in the life of Severus for which he can be justly
criticised with severity is his appointment of Caracalla as one of his
successors, and thus allowing his parental affection to overcome his
judgment of what was good for the Empire.
On their father's death, Caracalla and his greatly superior brother Geta
were made joint emperors; but they were jealous of each other and could
not agree. They proposed to divide the Empire. "But will you also divide
your mother?" asked Julia; and with many exhortations she dissuaded them
from resorting to this impracticable scheme.
Rome was once more to be harassed by the fury of a youthful monster.
Caracalla concluded that one emperor would suffice. In order to carry
out his purpose, he agreed to meet his brother in their mother's
apartments and there discuss terms of reconciliation. While he was
conversing with Geta, some centurions rushed into the room; and though
his mother tried to protect her younger son with her arms, Caracalla
urged the assassins to their work, and the empress herself was wounded
and also covered with Geta's blood. Afterward, when the murderer found
his mother in the midst of her female friends weeping over the fate of
his brother, he threatened them all with death. This menace was indeed
executed upon Fadilla, a surviving daughter of Marcus Aurelius. Milman
says: "The most valuable paragraph of Dion, which the industry of M. Mai
has recovered, relates to this daughter of Marcus, executed by
Caracalla. Her name, as appears from Fronto, as well as from Dion, was
Cornificia. When commanded to choose the kind of death she was to
suffer, she burst into womanish tears; but remembering her father
Marcus, she thus spoke: 'O my hapless soul, now imprisoned in the body,
burst forth! be free! Show them, however reluctant to believe it, that
thou art the daughter of Marcus.' She then laid aside all her ornaments,
and, preparing herself for death, ordered her veins to be opened." Many
other women died at this time because they were supposed to be
sympathizers with Geta.
It would have been an unnatural thing and a disgrace to humanity if
Caracalla himself had escaped the assassin's hand. His fate came to him
in his twenty-ninth year, as he was on a pilgrimage to the temple of the
Moon; and Macrinus, who began life as a slave and was at one time a
gladiator, reigned in his stead.
The Empress Julia Domna did not long outlive her son. Hers had been a
strange career. From a humble position she had been raised to that of
the highest lady in the world; and she had been a power in her time.
During the reign of Caracalla, though she could not restrain his
enormities, she had really administered the Empire. With her exaltation
had also come the most bitter sorrow. One son had been killed in her
arms by the other; and now the fratricide had fallen by the assassin's
weapon. She was at Antioch when she heard of her son's death. The news
wounded her both as a mother and also as an empress; one who had been
the servant of her husband was now to rule over her. Though Macrinus
treated her with great consideration, life seemed no longer tolerable,
and she resolved to starve herself to death. This resolution was not
less easy to form, inasmuch as she was suffering from an incurable
disease. There are some intimations that she first thought it possible
to raise herself to the throne and reign, as did some of her famous
female contemporaries in the East; but she soon carried out the project
dictated by hopelessness and starved herself to death.
After the death of Julia Domna, the other three Julias were commanded to
return to Emesa, where was the temple of the Sun, in which the father of
the family had been a priest. They were allowed to carry with them
their wealth; and this gold they soon found a means of using to the
overthrow of Macrinus. Soæmias had a son named Bassianus, and Mammæa
also had a son, who is most favorably known as the Emperor Alexander.
Bassianus was consecrated to the priesthood of the Sun. Macrinus had
made the mistake of stationing a great many troops at Emesa, where he
had sent these women, with minds full of dislike for himself and a house
full of gold which they might use to his disadvantage. The soldiers fell
in love with the young Bassianus, as they viewed his fine figure arrayed
in the magnificent robes of his priestly office. Mæsa spread the idea
among these legionaries that Bassianus was the son of the murdered
Caracalla; the men thought they could detect a likeness, and Mæsa gave
them large quantities of gold in order to improve their vision. Then
they were sure that Bassianus bore a strong likeness to Caracalla, who
must therefore have been his father. Mæsa had no more compunction about
sacrificing her money than she had about casting an imputation upon her
daughter's honor; she considered that the Empire would make amends for
both, if she could only secure it. Bassianus--who was afterward known by
the name of his god, Elagabalus--was but a youth of fifteen; he was sent
by his grandmother to the camp, with wagons filled with gold. After
distributing these arguments, he was proclaimed emperor under the name
of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, it being supposed that this honor to the
great philosopher would gain him favor with the people; and never was a
better name adopted for the furtherance of a base purpose.
This was a conspiracy of women; but, owing to the corrupt character and
the power of the soldiery, it succeeded. Macrinus made one hesitating
effort to maintain his position on the throne; he scattered donations,
and his troops fought a battle with those of Elagabalus. The latter
were on the point of being defeated, when Mæsa and Soæmias threw
themselves into the fight, and by their courage and ardor reheartened
the soldiers and thus gained the day.
Macrinus was not a bad emperor. He was considering plans of reform which
would have been greatly for the benefit of the people; but he was
removed to make way for the dissolute, effeminate Syrian priest of the
Sun. There is a cameo of the time, which represents Elagabalus riding in
a chariot drawn by two women who are crawling on their hands and knees.
Mæsa and Soæmias assuredly did debase themselves in dragging such an
emperor to the palace. His impure religion, added to his natural
disposition, his absolute power, and his youth, made of his reign the
very apotheosis of lust. The Senate received an emperor arrayed in the
silken robes of his priesthood to a Syrian god, adorned with a tiara,
necklaces, and bracelets, with his eyebrows tinged and his cheeks
painted like those of an Oriental woman.
His grandmother and her two daughters accompanied him to Rome. These
women differed in their character, and consequently in their conception
of how Elagabalus and themselves should employ the newly gained power.
Mæsa had been trained under the strict rule of Severus. She knew how
moderation and attention to the welfare of the Empire was the course
most likely to bring good results to the ruler and his family. The
administration she proposed to keep in her own hands; but she desired
her grandson at least to keep himself within the bounds of that liberty
which in those times was considered decent. Soæmias, on the other hand,
encouraged the young profligate in the belief that it was his right to
indulge himself in any manner which his inclination warranted and his
power made possible. Her advice seemed to him the more sensible, and he
acted accordingly. He allowed his grandmother to take full charge of
all public matters, only requiring that she should not interfere with
him in his pleasures. Mæsa had her seat in the Senate, near that of the
Consuls; and for the first time Rome was confessedly under the rule of a
woman. To his mother Elagabalus gave an appointment which was in accord
with her tastes; she was made president of the woman's senate, which
determined for the matrons their rank, costumes, and the quantity and
nature of ornaments which each might wear according to her social
position. Mammæa, however, kept in retirement, and endeavored as far as
possible to shield her son from the contamination which surrounded them
and also from the dangers of public notice.
The astounding follies of this reign, the licentiousness, the tyrannies,
especially as they affected women, cannot better be summed up than in
this picture drawn by Gibbon: "Elagabalus lavished away the treasures of
the people in the wildest extravagance, his own voice and that of his
flatterers applauded a spirit and magnificence unknown to the tameness
of his predecessors. To confound the order of seasons and climates, to
sport with the passions and prejudices of his subjects, to subvert every
law of nature and decency, were in the number of his most delicious
amusements. A long train of concubines, and a rapid succession of wives,
among whom was a Vestal virgin, ravished by force from her sacred
asylum, were insufficient to satisfy the impotence of his passions. The
master of the Roman world affected to copy the dress and manners of the
female sex, preferred the distaff to the sceptre, and dishonored the
principal dignities of the Empire by distributing them among his
numerous lovers, one of whom was publicly invested with the title and
authority of the emperor's, or, as he more properly styled himself, of
the empress's husband."
What a fall was this from the stern independence and the grand morality
of the Romans who knew the mother of the Gracchi! The Roman Senators had
become the slaves of a youth who pretended to be a dissolute woman; the
best ladies of the Empire, however virtuously inclined, had no
protection for their honor and no redress for their injuries, if they
attracted the fancy of the emperor or his favorites. The ancient gods
and goddesses, who, though the creations of superstitious imagination,
had inspired the Romans in their struggle for empire and in that manner
had aided them in securing it, were made the courtiers of the Syrian
Sun-god, represented by a shapeless black stone.
The shrewd Mæsa saw that it would be impossible for Elagabalus to retain
the throne and at the same time insult prejudices which were still dear
and deep-rooted in the minds of the otherwise indifferent Romans. She
determined, however, still to keep her family in power. The means
thereto she found in her other grandson, Alexander, the son of Mammæa.
By employing the argument that the high priest of the Sun should be
uninterrupted in his heavenly calling and in his pleasures by the
affairs of the world, she induced Elagabalus to adopt his cousin and
invest him with the dignity of Cæsar.
Mammæa had encouraged the natural disposition of her son, who was
inclined to amiability and uprightness; he speedily became a great
favorite with the people and, what was to more purpose, with the
soldiery. The son of Soæmias was not so blinded by his follies but that
he saw with envy the growing popularity of his younger colleague; but
instead of seeking to emulate his cousin in the good graces of the
people by reforming his own life, he determined to remove his rival
after the customary Roman fashion. But the watchful Mammæa so hedged her
son about with faithful servants that Elagabalus, who was weak-minded
enough to talk of all his purposes, could find no instrument capable of
penetrating this armor of a mother's care.
At last the emperor ordered the Senate to degrade Alexander from the
dignity of Cæsar, while at the same time he sent assassins to murder
him. The latter, for the reason already stated, failed in their errand;
and the Senate received the command in silence and indignation. The
soldiers were furious. They commanded the boys to be brought before the
Senate, and charged that body to protect the one and see to the
reformation of the manners of the other. The soldiers reproving the
conduct of their emperor represents exactly the position which the
supposed chief ruler of the Roman world now occupied. He was the subject
of the army.
The rivalry between the two princes soon came to a crisis, and Mammæa,
in order to save her son, set herself against her sister. Each of the
two women endeavored to incite the prætorians against the other. Mammæa
won; and Soæmias and her infamous son were slain.
Alexander was raised to the supreme position; but, being a dutiful and
obedient youth, he allowed those two noble women, his grandmother and
his mother, to hold the reins of government and also to advise him in
his own personal conduct. The former, however, soon died, and Mammæa was
constituted sole regent.
Mammæa was a woman who exhibited in herself the highest type of
intelligence, as well as an honorably regulated life. She was a
patroness of all learning and a student of philosophy. It was her desire
to become acquainted with all theories concerning the highest problems
of human existence; so much so that she sent for Origen, the
best-educated Christian of his time, in order that she might satisfy her
curiosity in regard to the teachings of that rapidly spreading faith.
She did not, however, become a Christian; even had she been convinced of
the truth of Origen's doctrines, her position demanded of her a policy
which, viewed from an entirely mundane standpoint, she could not afford
to abandon. She had provided her son with instructors who were not only
noted for their learning, but also for their unquestioned integrity.
Herodian says: "The statues of the gods which Elagabalus had taken away
were at once restored to their places. Those officials who had
unworthily obtained office were dismissed and their places filled by the
most capable citizens. In order to preserve the emperor from the
mistakes which might be caused by absolute authority, the ardor of
youth, or by some of the vices natural to his family, Mammæa strictly
guarded the entrance to the palace, and allowed no man to gain admission
whose morals were of bad repute."
Mammæa not only guarded her son, but, in his name and so far as the
palace was able to reserve any real authority from the power of the
camp, she ruled the Empire. She was wise and broad-minded enough to care
nothing for the title and pageantry of rule; indeed, the indications
seem to be that she was more anxious to reëstablish good government than
to hold the reins herself. Herodian says that she made an effort to
bring back good morals and the ancient dignified demeanor. She caused to
be chosen sixteen Senators, the most eminent for experience and
integrity of life, to form an imperial council, and without their
approval no measures were carried into execution. The people, the army,
the Senate, the historian assures us, were delighted with this new form
of government, which replaced the most insolent of tyrannies by a sort
of aristocracy. From the time of Commodus to that of Constantine, Rome
had no better government than that which was inspired by the genius and
ability of Mammæa; and if the organization and the subordination which
existed in the time of Trajan had still prevailed, the rule of this
remarkable woman would have equalled in uprightness and beneficence that
of any period in the history of the Empire.
The care of Mammæa in the education of her son was rewarded by its good
effect upon his character. Virtue for him never lost its charm, and a
fearless advocacy of the right made him respected by all. He inscribed
over the entrance to his palace, and had the heralds proclaim when
criminals were chastised, these words, which it is probable his mother
may have learned from her interview with Origen: _Do not to another what
you would not have done to yourself_.
While Mammæa was not jealous of public honors and titles, she was
avaricious in regard to the affections of her son; there she could not
endure a rival. With her consent, he married the daughter of a
patrician; but his love for his young wife, as much as his respect for
his father-in-law, caused Mammæa to have the latter executed on a charge
of treason and to banish the empress into Africa. It is somewhat
derogatory to the character of Alexander if, as Dion assures us, he
lamented the fate of his wife but durst not oppose it. How his second
wife fared with his mother we do not know. Her name was Sallustia
Orbiana. On a medallion she is represented as wearing a diadem; the
other side of the medal is inscribed with the words _FECVNDITAS
TEMPORVM_, and there Orbiana is shown seated, while Fecundity, kneeling
before her, holds a horn of plenty and carries two children.
The faults of Mammæa were avarice and her insistence upon dominating
over her son after he had attained the years of manhood; and these
errors in the end brought about the ruin of herself and Alexander. The
people were glad of a respite after the excesses of Caracalla and
Elagabalus; but they were not prepared for an empress-regent who spent
nothing on entertainments and gave no donations, or for an emperor whose
policy was formed on Plato's _Republic_. Julian, who characterized the
Cæsars, represents Alexander Severus sitting sadly on the steps of the
hall where the emperors and the gods are banqueting; Silenus mocks at
him and at his mother, who hoards her treasure; while Justice consents
to chastise his murderers, but has little sympathy for "the poor fool,
the great simpleton, who in a corner bewails his misfortune."
Only a strong man who could manage the army as Severus had done could
save himself in the Rome of that day. When Maximin, a barbarian of
immense personal strength and lifelong military experience, headed a
revolt in the army, the soldiers were quite ready to believe that the
Empire had long enough been ruled by "a parsimonious woman and a
pusillanimous boy." While on an expedition, the emperor endeavored to
maintain peace by making presents of gold to the Germans; this, above
all things, was displeasing to soldiers who, besides being eager to ply
their trade, expected to gain gold by war rather than by it to purchase
peace. The emperor was slain in his tent, after reigning thirteen years,
and his mother, who had been at all times the real ruler, perished with
him.
Alexander had favored the enemies of the ancient gods, and even decided
to the advantage of the Christians when there occurred a dispute in
regard to some land in Rome which they claimed in opposition to certain
innkeepers. "It is better," he said, "that this spot should be occupied
by a house of prayer than by a house of debauchery." Mammæa has even
been claimed for Christianity; but on her coins she was represented as
the beneficent Juno, and at her death the Senate decreed her apotheosis.
The end of paganism was not yet. It was to prove its lingering vitality
by its fierce and final death struggles under Decius and Diocletian.
From this time there was a quick succession of emperors, most of whom
were slain almost as soon as created. The State was becoming constantly
more disorganized. Every province desired its own emperor; and down to
the time of Diocletian, civil war was almost constant. Morals did not
improve, and families took on more and more the appearance of Oriental
establishments. We read of one emperor, Carinus, in the course of a few
months taking successively no less than nine wives, each of whom was
divorced to make room for the next. In his time, the palace was filled
with dancers and prostitutes, who were even invited to the imperial
table. Though morality suffered in the palace and among the nobility,
among the common and middle-class people there was working a leaven
which provided a new and more effective argument for the ancient purity
of manners.
The status and condition of women underwent no legal change during this
period. Their manner of life remained very much the same, for in those
days there were no inventions such as in modern times change the whole
aspect of social life within fifty years; but all the time there was
passing away from among the people that ancient spirit which we now
speak of as classic. Art was depreciating; the old religion was living
on its past. Imagination was dead, and consequently creation had ceased.
Paganism, that had learned to satisfy itself with the black stone of
Elagabalus, had no need of art. Statues were still made, temples were
frequently built; but there was no original genius. The Christianity of
that early time did not favor art. In literature, the educated had also
to depend on the past, except as they were satisfied with productions
so inferior that nothing save accident can explain their preservation.
The old Roman largeness of life was no more, and even the joyousness
which had associated itself with some phases of paganism had departed.
The twilight preceding the dark ages was deepening; the cycle of history
was again falling toward the lowest point of its orbit.
In the Museum of the Capitol, there is one bust of an empress in which
it is easy to fancy that one sees typified the spiritlessness of the
life of the woman of the period. It is that of the Empress Salonina, the
wife of Gallienus. The face is finely featured, but profoundly sad; it
reminds one more of a pictured saint of the Middle Ages than of a pagan
Roman empress. The hair, parted in the middle, hangs in a plain loop
behind; there is none of that gay and frequently bizarre dressing which
characterized the heads of the women of a former time. We can account
partly for Salonina's sad demeanor. Her husband brought home one Pipa,
the fair-haired daughter of a barbarian king; this Pipa he not only made
his concubine, but seated her on the throne, beside the empress.
Salonina could only console herself with her empty honors, and occupy
her mind with researches into the mazy philosophy of the Neo-platonists.
It has been thought, on account of a medal bearing her image and the
words _in pace_, that she became a Christian; but, though undoubtedly
she was greatly interested in the tenets of Christianity, and though her
husband, it may be by her advice, published a decree of toleration in
regard to the growing faith, the Church could not have admitted one who
built a temple to a pagan goddess and never abjured the practice of the
old religion. The countenance of Salonina is a type of the face of the
ancient life, out of which the light has departed and which has not yet
become illumined by the hope inherent in the new faith.
Religious ideas were now greatly confused. There were many who were not
prepared to abandon the old gods and who were yet impressed with the new
doctrine. One lady built a chapel in which she burnt incense before
statues of Jesus, Pythagoras, Homer, and others. Frequently, in the
persecutions, noble women were obliged to offer sacrifices in order to
prove to the judges that they were not Christians. In many cases, the
historians of the new religion claimed for adherents those who were only
tolerant inquirers. Even in those days, the high position which a lady
held made the bishops anxious to claim her as an adherent, before her
conduct had become conformed to the Christian requirements.
The ancient deities were ready to take their departure, since even those
who consistently supported the State religion retained but little faith
in them; but Diocletian proved himself not only a firm ruler but also a
lover of the old system. His decree ran: "The Christians oppose
themselves to the laws of the State, which enjoin the worship of the
gods; let them either sacrifice or suffer the penalty." Even the
imperial household was to be put to the test, and it is believed that it
was with reluctance that the emperor's wife and daughter burned the
grains of incense.
In the province governed by Constantius, however, the edict was carried
out with great lukewarmness; and soon the son of Constantius sat on the
throne of Diocletian, and by his side was the Christian Helena. In this
woman we see the transition from paganism to the new religion. Yet there
is no clear record of her conversion; there is no mark in her life to
indicate that it was in any moral sense created anew. So it was with
Roman society. Women intrigued and took part in sensual indulgence and
cruel revenge after Constantine had seen the Cross in the sky, just as
they had done before. The new doctrine was a leaven which required many
centuries to spread; but in the meantime the ancient paganism, with all
its grandeur and all its weakness, had disappeared, just as the ancient
type of Roman womanhood had given place to a new womanhood of
conglomerate nationality, with more privilege but not more character.
In the days of Valentinian, when the pagan worship was definitely
prohibited, the orator Symmachus represented the old religion as an aged
matron pleading thus for tolerance: "Most excellent princes, fathers of
your country, pity and respect my age, which has hitherto flowed in an
uninterrupted course of piety. Since I do not repent, permit me to
continue in the practice of my ancient rites. Since I am born free,
allow me to enjoy my domestic institutions. This religion has reduced
the world under my laws. These rites have repelled Hannibal from the
city and the Gauls from the Capitol. Were my gray hairs reserved for
such intolerable disgrace? I am ignorant of the new system I am required
to adopt; but I am well assured that the correction of old age is always
an ungrateful and ignominious office."
The history of the Roman woman we have essayed to recount has run
contemporaneously with the life of this worship of the old gods. What
she was that religion largely made her. In it she found inspiration for
her brave deeds; its ideals were the expression of her love of beauty;
it strengthened her fortitude in times of trial; and when we remember
her frailties, charity must also remind us that, apart from her own
nature and the custom of her time, this religion was all that she had.