wives._
How is it that neither Juno, who with her husband Jupiter even then
cherished
"Rome's sons, the nation of the gown,"[135]
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 neighbours." Yes; but with what wounds on both sides, and with
what sad slaughter of relatives and neighbours! 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[136]
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 valour
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.