Chapter 13.—By What Right or
Agreement The Romans Obtained Their First Wives.
How is it that neither Juno, who
with her husband Jupiter even then cherished
“Rome’s sons, the nation of the
gown,”
140
nor Venus herself, could assist the children of
the loved Æneas to find wives by some right and equitable means?
For the lack of this entailed upon the Romans the lamentable
necessity of stealing their wives, and then waging war with their
fathers-in-law; so that the wretched women, before they had
recovered from the wrong done them by their husbands, were dowried
with the blood of their fathers. “But the Romans conquered
their neighbors.” Yes; but with what wounds on both sides, and
with what sad slaughter of relatives and neighbors! The war of
Cæsar and Pompey was the contest of only one
father-in-law
with one son-in-law; and before it began, the daughter of Cæsar,
Pompey’s wife, was already dead. But with how keen and just an
accent of grief does Lucan
141
exclaim: “I sing that worse
than civil war waged in the plains of Emathia, and in which the
crime was justified by the victory!”
The Romans, then, conquered that
they might, with hands stained in the blood of their
fathers-in-law, wrench the miserable girls from their
embrace,—girls who dared not weep for their slain parents, for
fear of offending their victorious husbands; and while yet the
battle was raging, stood with their prayers on their lips, and knew
not for whom to utter them. Such nuptials were certainly prepared
for the Roman people not by Venus, but Bellona; or possibly that
infernal fury Alecto had more liberty to injure them now that Juno
was aiding them, than when the prayers of that goddess had excited
her against Æneas. Andromache in captivity was happier than
these Roman brides. For though she was a slave, yet, after she
had become the wife of Pyrrhus, no more Trojans fell by his hand;
but the Romans slew in battle the very fathers of the brides they
fondled. Andromache, the victor’s captive, could only mourn,
not fear, the death of her people. The Sabine women, related to
men still combatants, feared the death of their fathers when their
husbands went out to battle, and mourned their death as they
returned, while neither their grief nor their fear could be freely
expressed. For the victories of their husbands, involving the
destruction of fellow-townsmen, relatives, brothers, fathers,
caused either pious agony or cruel exultation. Moreover, as the
fortune of war is capricious, some of them lost their husbands by
the sword of their parents, while others lost husband and father
together in mutual destruction. For the Romans by no means
escaped with impunity, but they were driven back within their
walls, and defended themselves behind closed gates; and when the
gates were opened by guile, and the enemy admitted into the town,
the Forum itself was the field of a hateful and fierce engagement
of fathers-in-law and sons-in-law. The ravishers were indeed
quite defeated, and, flying on all sides to their houses, sullied
with new shame their original shameful and lamentable triumph. It
was at this juncture that Romulus, hoping no more from the valor of
his citizens, prayed Jupiter that they might stand their ground;
and from this occasion the god gained the name of Stator. But not
even thus would the mischief have been finished, had not the
ravished women themselves flashed out with dishevelled hair, and
cast themselves before their parents, and thus disarmed their just
rage, not with the arms of victory, but with the supplications of
filial affection. Then Romulus, who could not brook his own
brother as a colleague, was compelled to accept Titus Tatius, king
of the Sabines, as his partner on the throne. But how long would
he who misliked the fellowship of his own twin-brother endure a
stranger? So, Tatius being slain, Romulus remained sole king,
that he might be the greater god. See what rights of marriage
these were that fomented unnatural wars. These were the Roman
leagues of kindred, relationship, alliance, religion. This was
the life of the city so abundantly protected by the gods. You see
how many severe things might be said on this theme; but our purpose
carries us past them, and requires our discourse for other
matters.
140
Virgil,
Æn.
i.
286.
141
Pharsal.
v. 1.