Читать книгу Augustus: The Life and Times of the Founder of the Roman Empire - Evelyn S. Shuckburgh - Страница 8

Protest of Ladies.

In fact another list was published, but this time it was of properties to be confiscated, not of lives to be taken. In spite of the already large confiscations the triumviral government was in financial difficulties. Confiscated properties were liable to reductions for the dowries of widows, 10 per cent. to sons, and 5 per cent. to daughters.[166] These claims were not always paid perhaps, but they sometimes were. Again, besides the natural fall of prices caused by so much property coming into the market at once, much of it was sold to friends and partisans at great reductions, few venturing to bid against men in power or soldiers. The treasury, therefore, was not enriched as much as might have been expected; and as the triumvirs had two wars in the immediate future to face, they were in great need of money. The tributum and tax on slaves were reimposed, but failed to produce a surplus. A device therefore was hit upon something like the fines on “Malignants” in England, under the Commonwealth. Lists of persons more or less suspect were put up, who were ordered to contribute a tenth of their property. Each man had to value his own estate, and this gave rise to frequent accusations of fraud, generally resulting in the confiscation of the whole. Others found it impossible to raise the money without selling property, which could only be done just then at a ruinous sacrifice. An alternative was offered to such men which proved equally ruinous. They might surrender their whole estate and apply for the restoration of a third. The treasury was not likely to be prompt in completing the transaction, for it had first to sell and satisfy charges on the estate, nor to take a liberal view of the amount due to the owner. It was an encumbered estates act, under which the margin of salvage was always small, and tended to disappear altogether.[167] Among those thus proscribed were about fourteen hundred ladies. They did not silently submit, but applied to Octavia, as well as to Antony’s mother Iulia, and his wife Fulvia. By Octavia and Iulia they were kindly received, but were driven from Fulvia’s door. Undismayed they appeared before the tribunal of the triumvirs, where Hortensia, daughter of the orator Hortensius, pleaded their cause with something of her father’s eloquence. “If they were guilty,” she argued, “they ought to have shared the fate of their relations. If not it was as unjust to injure their property as their persons. They had no share in political rights, and therefore were not liable to taxation. Women had of old voluntarily contributed their personal ornaments to the defences of the country; but they had never contributed, and, she hoped, never would contribute to a civil war, or shew sympathy on either side.” The triumvirs received the protest with anger, and ordered their lictors to drive the ladies away. But they were struck by marks of disapproval among the crowd; and next day a new edict was substituted, which contained only four hundred names of women, and, instead of naming individual men, imposed on all properties above 100,000 sesterces (about £800) an immediate tax of 2 per cent. of the capital, and one year’s income for the expenses of the war.[168]

Responsibility of Augustus for the proscriptions.

For a just view of the character of Augustus, it is important to decide how far he acquiesced in the cruelties of the proscription. With the general policy he seems to have been in full accord; and as far as a complete vengeance on those implicated in the murder of Iulius was concerned, he was no doubt inexorable. But his administration as sole head of the state was so equitable and clement, that many found it difficult to believe that he did more than tacitly acquiesce in the rest of the proscriptions. Augustus himself, in the memoir left to be engraved after his death, omits all mention of them, and conveniently passes from the legal condemnation of the assassins to the assertion that he spared the survivors of Philippi. Paterculus only alludes to them in a sentence, which contains a skilful insinuation that Augustus only joined in them under compulsion. Appian makes no distinction between the three. He tells us, indeed, some stories of mercy shown by Augustus, and of his expressing approbation of acts of fidelity on the part of friends or slaves. But he also credits Antony with at least one act of a similar kind. Plutarch says that most blame was thought to attach to Antony, as being older than Cæsar and more influential than Lepidus. Dio goes more fully into the question. He affirms that Antony and Lepidus were chiefly responsible for the proscriptions, pointing out that Octavian by his own nature, as well as his association with Iulius, was inclined to clemency; and moreover, that he had not been long enough engaged in politics to have conceived many enmities, while his chief wish was to be esteemed and popular; and lastly, that when he got rid of these associates, and was in sole power, he was never guilty of such crimes. The strongest of these arguments is that which claims for Cæsar’s youth immunity from widespread animosities; and it does seem probable that outside the actual assassins and their immediate supporters, Augustus would not personally have cared to extend the use of the executioner’s sword. But he cannot be acquitted of a somewhat cynical indifference to the cruelties perpetrated under the joint name and authority of the triumvirs. None of them have been directly attributed to him, except perhaps in the case of his (apparently unfaithful) guardian Toranius; but neither is there any record of his having interfered to prevent them. Suetonius seems to give the truer account, that he resisted the proscription at first, but, when it was once decided upon, insisted that it should be carried out relentlessly. The proscription was an odious crime; but a proscription that did not fulfil its purpose would have been a monstrous blunder also. I do not, however, admit Seneca’s criticism that his subsequent clemency was merely “cruelty worn out.”[169] The change was one of time and circumstance. Youth is apt to be hard-hearted. With happier surroundings and lengthened experience his character and judgment ripened and mellowed.

Death of Atia.

While these horrors were just beginning Cæsar lost his mother Atia, the tender and careful guide of his childhood and youth, the first of his near kin to recognise and approve his high destiny. She died while he was still consul, that is, between the 19th of August and the 27th of November, B.C. 43. Devoted to her in her life Cæsar now obtained for her the honours of a public funeral. During the campaign of Mutina she was, it seems, at Rome; and when his estrangement from the Senate made her position unpleasant or dangerous, she had taken sanctuary with the Vestal Virgins accompanied by Octavia, and was ready to greet him when he returned to Rome. Nicolas of Damascus gives an attractive picture of Octavian’s relations with his mother; and even the uncomplimentary Suetonius owns that his dutiful conduct to her had been exemplary. She had brought up her son with strictness, and the author of the de oratoribus classes her with the mother of the Gracchi. But her strictness had not forfeited her son’s affection, nor failed to impress upon him a high sense of duty. Her second husband Philippus survived her several years.[170]