Titus Flavius Domitianus (Domitian) - C. Suetonius Tranquillus
XIV. Becoming by these means universally feared and odious, he was at
last taken off by a conspiracy of his friends and favourite freedmen, in
concert with his wife [829]. He had long entertained a suspicion of the
year and day when he should die, and even of the very hour and manner of
his death; all which he had learned from the Chaldaeans, when he was a
very young man. His father once at supper laughed at him for refusing to
eat some mushrooms, saying, that if he knew his fate, he would rather be
afraid of the sword. Being, therefore, in perpetual apprehension and
anxiety, he was keenly alive to the slightest suspicions, insomuch that
he is thought to have withdrawn the edict ordering the destruction of the
vines, chiefly because the copies of it which were dispersed had the
following lines written upon them:
Kaen me phagaes epi rizanomos epi kartophoraeso,
Osson epispeisai Kaisari thuomeno. [830]
Gnaw thou my root, yet shall my juice suffice
To pour on Caesar's head in sacrifice.
(492) It was from the same principle of fear, that he refused a new
honour, devised and offered him by the senate, though he was greedy of
all such compliments. It was this: "that as often as he held the
consulship, Roman knights, chosen by lot, should walk before him, clad in
the Trabea, with lances in their hands, amongst his lictors and
apparitors." As the time of the danger which he apprehended drew near,
he became daily more and more disturbed in mind; insomuch that he lined
the walls of the porticos in which he used to walk, with the stone called
Phengites [831], by the reflection of which he could see every object
behind him. He seldom gave an audience to persons in custody, unless in
private, being alone, and he himself holding their chains in his hand.
To convince his domestics that the life of a master was not to be
attempted upon any pretext, however plausible, he condemned to death
Epaphroditus his secretary, because it was believed that he had assisted
Nero, in his extremity, to kill himself.
XV. His last victim was Flavius Clemens [832], his cousin-german, a man
below contempt for his want of energy, whose sons, then of very tender
age, he had avowedly destined for his successors, and, discarding their
former names, had ordered one to be called Vespasian, and the other
Domitian. Nevertheless, he suddenly put him to death upon some very
slight suspicion [833], almost before he was well out of his consulship.
By this violent act he very much hastened his own destruction. During
eight months together there was so much lightning at Rome, and such
accounts of the phaenomenon were brought from other parts, that at last
he cried out, "Let him now strike whom he will." The Capitol was struck
by lightning, as well as the temple of the Flavian family, with the
Palatine-house, and his own bed-chamber. The tablet also, inscribed upon
the base of his triumphal statue was carried away by the violence of the
storm, and fell upon a neighbouring (493) monument. The tree which just
before the advancement of Vespasian had been prostrated, and rose again
[834], suddenly fell to the ground. The goddess Fortune of Praeneste, to
whom it was his custom on new year's day to commend the empire for the
ensuing year, and who had always given him a favourable reply, at last
returned him a melancholy answer, not without mention of blood. He
dreamt that Minerva, whom he worshipped even to a superstitious excess,
was withdrawing from her sanctuary, declaring she could protect him no
longer, because she was disarmed by Jupiter. Nothing, however, so much
affected him as an answer given by Ascletario, the astrologer, and his
subsequent fate. This person had been informed against, and did not deny
his having predicted some future events, of which, from the principles of
his art, he confessed he had a foreknowledge. Domitian asked him, what
end he thought he should come to himself? To which replying, "I shall in
a short time be torn to pieces by dogs," he ordered him immediately to be
slain, and, in order to demonstrate the vanity of his art, to be
carefully buried. But during the preparations for executing this order,
it happened that the funeral pile was blown down by a sudden storm, and
the body, half-burnt, was torn to pieces by dogs; which being observed by
Latinus, the comic actor, as he chanced to pass that way, he told it,
amongst the other news of the day, to the emperor at supper.
XVI. The day before his death, he ordered some dates [835], served up at
table, to be kept till the next day, adding, "If I have the luck to use
them." And turning to those who were nearest him, he said, "To-morrow
the moon in Aquarius will be bloody instead of watery, and an event will
happen, which will be much talked of all the world over." About
midnight, he was so terrified that he leaped out of bed. That morning he
tried and passed sentence on a soothsayer sent from Germany, who being
consulted about the lightning that had lately (494) happened, predicted
from it a change of government. The blood running down his face as he
scratched an ulcerous tumour on his forehead, he said, "Would this were
all that is to befall me!" Then, upon his asking the time of the day,
instead of five o'clock, which was the hour he dreaded, they purposely
told him it was six. Overjoyed at this information; as if all danger
were now passed, and hastening to the bath, Parthenius, his chamberlain,
stopped him, by saying that there was a person come to wait upon him
about a matter of great importance, which would admit of no delay. Upon
this, ordering all persons to withdraw, he retired into his chamber, and
was there slain.
XVII. Concerning the contrivance and mode of his death, the common
account is this. The conspirators being in some doubt when and where
they should attack him, whether while he was in the bath, or at supper,
Stephanus, a steward of Domitilla's [836], then under prosecution for
defrauding his mistress, offered them his advice and assistance; and
wrapping up his left arm, as if it was hurt, in wool and bandages for
some days, to prevent suspicion, at the hour appointed, he secreted a
dagger in them. Pretending then to make a discovery of a conspiracy, and
being for that reason admitted, he presented to the emperor a memorial,
and while he was reading it in great astonishment, stabbed him in the
groin. But Domitian, though wounded, making resistance, Clodianus, one
of his guards, Maximus, a freedman of Parthenius's, Saturius, his
principal chamberlain, with some gladiators, fell upon him, and stabbed
him in seven places. A boy who had the charge of the Lares in his
bed-chamber, and was then in attendance as usual, gave these further
particulars: that he was ordered by Domitian, upon receiving his first
wound, to reach him a dagger which lay under his pillow, and call in his
domestics; but that he found nothing at the head of the bed, excepting
the hilt of a (495) poniard, and that all the doors were fastened: that
the emperor in the mean time got hold of Stephanus, and throwing him upon
the ground, struggled a long time with him; one while endeavouring to
wrench the dagger from him, another while, though his fingers were
miserably mangled, to tear out his eyes. He was slain upon the
fourteenth of the calends of October [18th Sept.], in the forty-fifth
year of his age, and the fifteenth of his reign [837]. His corpse was
carried out upon a common bier by the public bearers, and buried by his
nurse Phyllis, at his suburban villa on the Latin Way. But she
afterwards privately conveyed his remains to the temple of the Flavian
family [838], and mingled them with the ashes of Julia, the daughter of
Titus, whom she had also nursed.
XVIII. He was tall in stature, his face modest, and very ruddy; he had
large eyes, but was dim-sighted; naturally graceful in his person,
particularly in his youth, excepting only that his toes were bent
somewhat inward, he was at last disfigured by baldness, corpulence, and
the slenderness of his legs, which were reduced by a long illness. He
was so sensible how much the modesty of his countenance recommended him,
that he once made this boast to the senate, "Thus far you have approved
both of my disposition and my countenance." His baldness so much annoyed
him, that he considered it an affront to himself, if any other person was
reproached with it, either in jest or in earnest; though in a small tract
he published, addressed to a friend, "concerning the preservation of the
hair," he uses for their mutual consolation the words following:
Ouch oraas oios kago kalos te megas te;
Seest thou my graceful mien, my stately form?
"and yet the fate of my hair awaits me; however, I bear with fortitude
this loss of my hair while I am still young. Remember that nothing is
more fascinating than beauty, but nothing of shorter duration."
XIX. He so shrunk from undergoing fatigue, that he scarcely ever walked
through the city on foot. In his (496) expeditions and on a march, he
seldom rode on horse-back; but was generally carried in a litter. He had
no inclination for the exercise of arms, but was very expert in the use
of the bow. Many persons have seen him often kill a hundred wild
animals, of various kinds, at his Alban retreat, and fix his arrows in
their heads with such dexterity, that he could, in two shots, plant them,
like a pair of horns, in each. He would sometimes direct his arrows
against the hand of a boy standing at a distance, and expanded as a mark,
with such precision, that they all passed between the boy's fingers,
without hurting him.
XX. In the beginning of his reign, he gave up the study of the liberal
sciences, though he took care to restore, at a vast expense, the
libraries which had been burnt down; collecting manuscripts from all
parts, and sending scribes to Alexandria [839], either to copy or correct
them. Yet he never gave himself the trouble of reading history or
poetry, or of employing his pen even for his private purposes. He
perused nothing but the Commentaries and Acts of Tiberius Caesar. His
letters, speeches, and edicts, were all drawn up for him by others;
though he could converse with elegance, and sometimes expressed himself
in memorable sentiments. "I could wish," said he once, "that I was but
as handsome as Metius fancies himself to be." And of the head of some
one whose hair was partly reddish, and partly grey, he said, "that it was
snow sprinkled with mead."
XXI. "The lot of princes," he remarked, "was very miserable, for no one
believed them when they discovered a conspiracy, until they were
murdered." When he had leisure, he amused himself with dice, even on
days that were not festivals, and in the morning. He went to the bath
early, and made a plentiful dinner, insomuch that he seldom ate more at
supper than a Matian apple [840], to which he added a (497) draught of
wine, out of a small flask. He gave frequent and splendid
entertainments, but they were soon over, for he never prolonged them
after sun-set, and indulged in no revel after. For, till bed-time, he
did nothing else but walk by himself in private.
XXII. He was insatiable in his lusts, calling frequent commerce with
women, as if it was a sort of exercise, klinopalaen, bed-wrestling; and
it was reported that he plucked the hair from his concubines, and swam
about in company with the lowest prostitutes. His brother's daughter
[841] was offered him in marriage when she was a virgin; but being at
that time enamoured of Domitia, he obstinately refused her. Yet not long
afterwards, when she was given to another, he was ready enough to debauch
her, and that even while Titus was living. But after she had lost both
her father and her husband, he loved her most passionately, and without
disguise; insomuch that he was the occasion of her death, by obliging her
to procure a miscarriage when she was with child by him.
XXIII. The people shewed little concern at his death, but the soldiers
were roused by it to great indignation, and immediately endeavoured to
have him ranked among the gods. They were also ready to revenge his
loss, if there had been any to take the lead. However, they soon after
effected it, by resolutely demanding the punishment of all those who had
been concerned in his assassination. On the other hand, the senate was
so overjoyed, that they met in all haste, and in a full assembly reviled
his memory in the most bitter terms; ordering ladders to be brought in,
and his shields and images to be pulled down before their eyes, and
dashed in pieces upon the floor of the senate-house passing at the same
time a decree to obliterate his titles every where, and abolish all
memory of him. A few months before he was slain, a raven on the Capitol
uttered these words: "All will be well." Some person gave the following
interpretation of this prodigy:
(498) Nuper Tarpeio quae sedit culmine cornix.
"Est bene," non potuit dicere; dixit, "Erit."
Late croaked a raven from Tarpeia's height,
"All is not yet, but shall be, right."
They say likewise that Domitian dreamed that a golden hump grew out of
the back of his neck, which he considered as a certain sign of happy days
for the empire after him. Such an auspicious change indeed shortly
afterwards took place, through the justice and moderation of the
succeeding emperors.
* * * * * *
If we view Domitian in the different lights in which he is represented,
during his lifetime and after his decease, his character and conduct
discover a greater diversity than is commonly observed in the objects of
historical detail. But as posthumous character is always the most just,
its decisive verdict affords the surest criterion by which this
variegated emperor must be estimated by impartial posterity. According
to this rule, it is beyond a doubt that his vices were more predominant
than his virtues: and when we follow him into his closet, for some time
after his accession, when he was thirty years of age, the frivolity of
his daily employment, in the killing of flies, exhibits an instance of
dissipation, which surpasses all that has been recorded of his imperial
predecessors. The encouragement, however, which the first Vespasian had
shown to literature, continued to operate during the present reign; and
we behold the first fruits of its auspicious influence in the valuable
treatise of QUINTILIAN.
Of the life of this celebrated writer, little is known upon any authority
that has a title to much credit. We learn, however, that he was the son
of a lawyer in the service of some of the preceding emperors, and was
born in Rome, though in what consulship, or under what emperor, it is
impossible to determine. He married a woman of a noble family, by whom
he had two sons. The mother died in the flower of her age, and the sons,
at the distance of some time from each other, when their father was
advanced in years. The precise time of Quintilian's own death is
equally inauthenticated with that of his birth; nor can we rely upon an
author of suspicious veracity, who says that he passed the latter part of
his life in a state of indigence which was alleviated by the liberality
of his pupil, Pliny the Younger. Quintilian opened a school of rhetoric
at Rome, where he not only discharged that labourious employment with
great applause, (499) during more than twenty years, but pleaded at the
bar, and was the first who obtained a salary from the state, for
executing the office of a public teacher. He was also appointed by
Domitian preceptor to the two young princes who were intended to succeed
him on the throne.
After his retirement from the situation of a teacher, Quintilian devoted
his attention to the study of literature, and composed a treatise on the
Causes of the Corruption of Eloquence. At the earnest solicitation of
his friends, he was afterwards induced to undertake his Institutiones
Oratoriae, the most elaborate system of oratory extant in any language.
This work is divided into twelve books, in which the author treats with
great precision of the qualities of a perfect orator; explaining not only
the fundamental principles of eloquence, as connected with the
constitution of the human mind, but pointing out, both by argument and
observation, the most successful method of exercising that admirable art,
for the accomplishment of its purpose. So minutely, and upon so
extensive a plan, has he prosecuted the subject, that he delineates the
education suitable to a perfect orator, from the stage of infancy in the
cradle, to the consummation of rhetorical fame, in the pursuits of the
bar, or those, in general, of any public assembly. It is sufficient to
say, that in the execution of this elaborate work, Quintilian has called
to the assistance of his own acute and comprehensive understanding, the
profound penetration of Aristotle, the exquisite graces of Cicero; all
the stores of observation, experience, and practice; and in a word, the
whole accumulated exertions of ancient genius on the subject of oratory.
It may justly be regarded as an extraordinary circumstance in the
progress of scientific improvement, that the endowments of a perfect
orator were never fully exhibited to the world, until it had become
dangerous to exercise them for the important purposes for which they were
originally cultivated. And it is no less remarkable, that, under all the
violence and caprice of imperial despotism which the Romans had now
experienced, their sensibility to the enjoyment of poetical compositions
remained still unabated; as if it served to console the nation for the
irretrievable loss of public liberty. From this source of entertainment,
they reaped more pleasure during the present reign, than they had done
since the time of Augustus. The poets of this period were Juvenal,
Statius, and Martial.
JUVENAL was born at Aquinum, but in what year is uncertain; though, from
some circumstances, it seems to have been in the reign of Augustus. Some
say that he was the son of a freedman, (500) while others, without
specifying the condition of his father, relate only that he was brought
up by a freedman. He came at an early age to Rome, where he declaimed
for many years, and, pleaded causes in the forum with great applause; but
at last he betook himself to the writing of satires, in which he acquired
great fame. One of the first, and the most constant object of is satire,
was the pantomime Paris, the great favourite of the emperor Nero, and
afterwards of Domitian. During the reign of the former of these
emperors, no resentment was shown towards the poet; but he experienced
not the same impunity after the accession of the latter; when, to remove
him from the capital, he was sent as governor to the frontiers of Egypt,
but in reality, into an honourable exile. According to some authors, he
died of chagrin in that province: but this is not authenticated, and
seems to be a mistake: for in some of Martial's epigrams, which appear to
have been written after the death of Domitian, Juvenal is spoken of as
residing at Rome. It is said that he lived to upwards of eighty years of
age.
The remaining compositions of this author are sixteen satires, all
written against the dissipation and enormous vices which prevailed at
Rome in his time. The various objects of animadversion are painted in
the strongest colours, and placed in the most conspicuous points of view.
Giving loose reins to just and moral indignation, Juvenal is every where
animated, vehement, petulant, and incessantly acrimonious. Disdaining
the more lenient modes of correction, or despairing of their success, he
neither adopts the raillery of Horace, nor the derision of Persius, but
prosecutes vice and folly with all the severity of sentiment, passion,
and expression. He sometimes exhibits a mixture of humour with his
invectives; but it is a humour which partakes more of virulent rage than
of pleasantry; broad, hostile, but coarse, and rivalling in indelicacy
the profligate manners which it assails. The satires of Juvenal abound
in philosophical apophthegms; and, where they are not sullied by obscene
description, are supported with a uniform air of virtuous elevation.
Amidst all the intemperance of sarcasm, his numbers are harmonious. Had
his zeal permitted him to direct the current of his impetuous genius into
the channel of ridicule, and endeavour to put to shame the vices and
follies of those licentious times, as much as he perhaps exasperated
conviction rather than excited contrition, he would have carried satire
to the highest possible pitch, both of literary excellence and moral
utility. With every abatement of attainable perfection, we hesitate not
to place him at the head of this arduous department of poetry.
Of STATIUS no farther particulars are preserved than that he (501) was
born at Naples; that his father's name was Statius of Epirus, and his
mother's Agelina, and that he died about the end of the first century of
the Christian era. Some have conjectured that he maintained himself by
writing for the stage, but of this there is no sufficient evidence; and
if ever he composed dramatic productions, they have perished. The works
of Statius now extant, are two poems, viz. the Thebais and the Achilleis,
besides a collection, named Silvae.
The Thebais consists of twelve books, and the subject of it is the Theban
war, which happened 1236 years before the Christian era, in consequence
of a dispute between Eteocles and Polynices, the sons of Oedipus and
Jocasta. These brothers had entered into an agreement with each other to
reign alternately for a year at a time; and Eteocles being the elder, got
first possession of the throne. This prince refusing to abdicate at the
expiration of the year, Polynices fled to Argos, where marrying Argia,
the daughter of Adrastus, king of that country, he procured the
assistance of his father-in-law, to enforce the engagement stipulated
with his brother Eteocles. The Argives marched under the command of
seven able generals, who were to attack separately the seven gates of
Thebes. After much blood had been spilt without any effect, it was at
last agreed between the two parties, that the brothers should determine
the dispute by single combat. In the desperate engagement which ensued,
they both fell; and being burnt together upon the funeral pile, it is
said that their ashes separated, as if actuated by the implacable
resentment which they had borne to each other.
If we except the Aeneid, this is the only Latin production extant which
is epic in its form; and it likewise approaches nearest in merit to that
celebrated poem, which Statius appears to have been ambitious of
emulating. In unity and greatness of action, the Thebais corresponds to
the laws of the Epopea; but the fable may be regarded as defective in
some particulars, which, however, arise more from the nature of the
subject, than from any fault of the poet. The distinction of the hero is
not sufficiently prominent; and the poem possesses not those
circumstances which are requisite towards interesting the reader's
affections in the issue of the contest. To this it may be added, that
the unnatural complexion of the incestuous progeny diffuses a kind of
gloom which obscures the splendour of thought, and restrains the
sympathetic indulgence of fancy to some of the boldest excursions of the
poet. For grandeur, however, and animation of sentiment and description,
as well as for harmony of numbers, the Thebais is eminently conspicuous,
and deserves to be held in a much higher degree of estimation than it has
(502) generally obtained. In the contrivance of some of the episodes,
and frequently in the modes of expression, Statius keeps an attentive eye
to the style of Virgil. It is said that he was twelve years employed in
the composition of this poem; and we have his own authority for
affirming, that he polished it with all the care and assiduity practised
by the poets in the Augustan age:
Quippe, te fido monitore, nostra
Thebais, multa cruciata lima,
Tentat audaci fide Mantuanae
Gaudia famae.--Silvae, lib. iv. 7.
For, taught by you, with steadfast care
I trim my "Song of Thebes," and dare
With generous rivalry to share
The glories of the Mantuan bard.
The Achilleis relates to the same hero who is celebrated by Homer in the
Iliad; but it is the previous history of Achilles, not his conduct in the
Trojan war, which forms the subject of the poem of Statius. While the
young hero is under the care of the Centaur Chiron, Thetis makes a visit
to the preceptor's sequestered habitation, where, to save her son from
the fate which, it was predicted, would befall him at Troy, if he should
go to the siege of that place, she orders him to be dressed in the
disguise of a girl, and sent to live in the family of Lycomedes, king of
Scyros. But as Troy could not be taken without the aid of Achilles,
Ulysses, accompanied by Diomede, is deputed by the Greeks to go to
Scyros, and bring him thence to the Grecian camp. The artifice by which
the sagacious ambassador detected Achilles amongst his female companions,
was by placing before them various articles of merchandise, amongst which
was some armour. Achilles no sooner perceived the latter, than he
eagerly seized a sword and shield, and manifesting the strongest emotions
of heroic enthusiasm, discovered his sex. After an affectionate parting
with Lycomedes' daughter, Deidamia, whom he left pregnant of a son, he
set sail with the Grecian chiefs, and, during the voyage, gives them an
account of the manner of his education with Chiron.