Ancient Roman Parental Reactions to the death of
an Infant: Indifference or Grief?
Tania Patel (11162228)
MA Thesis Classics and Ancient Civilisations
Number of Words: 27000 (excluding footnotes and bibliography)
UVA University, Amsterdam
March 2017
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Preface
Writing this thesis on the emotions of bereaved Roman parents has proved to be both an enjoyable and eye-opening experience. My interest in the history of emotions first arose at the suggestion of professor Emily Hemelrijk, who understood that I wanted to cover new ground. I would like to thank professor Hemelrijk for all her guidance and support in this process – she has been an inspiration to me and I have learned more from her than I could have ever imagined. I would also like to thank Dennis de Hoop and Perry Patel for their unwavering support throughout this year – I could not have achieved any of this without them.
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Table of Contents:
Preface ... 2
Chapter one: Introduction ... 4
Chapter two: The Emotional Conventions at Rome Regarding the Mourning of Infants. ... 11
The Elite Roman Male ... 12
Elite Women ... 24
Freedmen and -women ... 30
Chapter Three: Individual Parental Reactions to the Death of an Infant. ... 42
Does High Infant Mortality Cause Parental Indifference? ... 43
Signs of Grief Among the Freedman Community? ... 45
Signs of Grief among the Elite? ... 54
Wet-nursing, Puer Senex and Exposure ... 64
Conclusion ... 73
Appendix A ... 82
Appendix B: ... 83
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Chapter one: Introduction
Nature declares that she has given the human race the gentlest of hearts by her gift of tears… It’s by Nature’s command that we sigh when … a baby is buried in the ground, too young for the pyre’s flame1
Whether infants were as appreciated in Roman society as the words of Juvenal would seem to imply has sparked a great deal of debate among scholars of the ancient world. The majority of historians, while believing older children were mourned, are fairly unanimous that infants were undervalued in Roman society and that their parents were largely unaffected by their deaths.2 Such conclusions appear to be mainly based on assumption rather than research. For example, several historians assume high infant mortality3 always led to parental
indifference without actually investigating whether this was indeed the case for ancient Rome.4 Other scholars point to the under-representation of infants in Roman funerary
inscriptions and Roman practices such as wet-nursing and exposure as proving Roman parents were largely disinterested in their infants. The small minority of scholars on the opposing side of the debate, however, are no less presumptuous: insisting those few,
tombstone inscriptions dedicated to infants proves Roman parents deeply loved their infants and grieved for them when they died.5
The fact of the matter is that the literary and material evidence on this subject is both scanty and contradictory and, thus, can be used to argue either side. I believe the real problem lies in the fact that scholars have attempted to analyse the emotions of Roman society without using emotion as a serious category of historical analysis, which has led to a great deal of misinterpretation and false assumption. The aim of this thesis, therefore, is to use the theory of the history of emotions to see if a fuller and deeper understanding can be gained of the emotions of Roman parents when their infants died. This is an innovative approach, as to my knowledge, no one has yet applied the theory of the history of emotions to ancient Rome.
1 Juvenal, Sat. 15. 134 – 140.
2 Bradley, 1986, 22; Wiedemann, 1989, 16 – 17; Rawson, 2003, 346; Dixon, 1988, 104. 3 Infant mortality was high at Rome as will be demonstrated in chapter 3.
4 Bradley, 1986.
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This is rather surprising as the history of emotions is currently experiencing
something of a boom among historians of the medieval and modern period. Yet, the history of emotions is not a new field of historical research. Indeed as early as 1941, Lucien Febvre, urged other historians to include emotions in their work as he believed emotions influenced political life and were thus paramount to historical study.6 His view, on the whole, was that
emotions were violent and impulsive but that some societies were better at controlling their emotions than others.7 Norbert Elias shared a similar idea in 1939 when he wrote “The
Civilizing Process”. He argued that prior to the modern era, people were emotionally childlike and that it was only from 1600 CE onwards that people began to exercise greater restraint in their emotions and to become more “civilized”.8 Surprisingly, the historians Peter
and Carol Stearns seemed to largely follow this notion when they introduced the term
“emotionology” in 1985. “Emotionology” refers to “the attitude or standards that a society, or a definable group within a society, maintains toward basic emotions and their appropriate expression; [and the] ways that institutions reflect and encourage these attitudes in human conduct”.9 The Stearns were, thus, more interested in the emotional conventions surrounding
emotional expression than in individual expressions of emotion. They also believed the only way to uncover emotional conventions was by reading popular advice manuals such as etiquette books.10 This meant “emotionology” could only be applied to the modern era as that is when advice manuals for the middle classes began. Yet, the Stearns did not consider this to be problematic as they agreed with Febvre and Elias that people had no control over their emotions before the modern period:
Public temper tantrums, along with frequent weeping and boisterous joy, were far more common in premodern society than they were to become in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Adults were in many ways, by modern standards, childlike in their indulgence in temper…11
6 Lucien Febvre’s theory is discussed by both Plamper, 2015, 40 – 43, Rosenwein, 2002. 823. 7 Rosenwein discusses this theory of Febvre in Rosenwein, 2002, 823.
8 Rosenwein discusses the theory of Norbert Elias in Rosenwein, 2002, 826 – 827. 9 Plamper cites the Stearns directly in Plamper, 2015, 57.
10 Rosenwein discusses the Stearns’ methodology in Rosenwein, 2002, 825. 11 Stearns, 1986, 25.
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Febvre, Elias and the Stearns, thus, all subscribed to what Rosenwein termed “the grand narrative”,12 which deemed that people showed increasing emotional restraint as they entered
into the modern era.
I concur with Rosenwein that “the grand narrative” is extremely unconvincing, particularly, as the ancient Romans demonstrated a great deal of restraint in their emotions as will be revealed in chapter two. Fortunately, more convincing theories now exist regarding the history of emotions. One such theory is that of William Reddy who believes that every political regime also has an “emotional regime”.13 The emotional regime prescribes which
emotions and modes of emotional expression are considered to be normative and acceptable in a particular society. Reddy argues that there are different types of emotional regimes: at one end of the spectrum are the “stricter emotional regimes” which allow individuals to only express those emotions deemed acceptable and severely punishes individuals who show any deviant emotional behavior. At the other end of the spectrum, exist the looser emotional regimes which allow individuals to manoeuvre between different and conflicting emotional objectives, permitting emotional liberty and self-discovery.14 Most emotional regimes will also have an “emotional refuge” in which emotional conventions are relaxed and the effort to emotionally conform can be put aside.15 Reddy clearly believes certain emotional regimes are superior to others and this is where he came up against social constructivism. For, there are two schools of thought on emotions: universalism and social constructivism. Universalists (cognitive psychologists and neuroscientists) believe emotions are universal and
transhistorical; whereas social constructivists, such as historians, naturally, believe emotions are cultural constructions and thus vary across time and culture.16 Yet, social constructivism holds a dilemma for Reddy as it does not allow ethical judgements to be passed on other cultures due to its intrinsic belief that everything is socially constructed including our values, meaning value judgements cannot be made about other groups. Reddy’s solution was to develop the concept of “emotives” which reconciled constructivism and universalism. Emotives are in essence emotional statements such as “I feel sad”. According to Reddy, emotives have both a constative function and a performative function. Constatives are descriptive statements about the world such as “the sky is blue”, whereas performatives are
12 Rosenwein, 2002, 824. 13 Reddy, 2004, 128. 14 Reddy, 2004, 126 – 128. 15 Reddy, 2004, 129.
16 Historians would have to be social constructivists as there would be no point in researching the history of
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statements that change the world such as when a bride says “I do” at a registry office. Reddy argues that emotives have both these functions as “I am sad” describes what a person is feeling, yet it also enables that person to decide whether he/she is indeed feeling sad or perhaps feeling something else. In this sense, emotives also have a self-exploratory function, allowing the speaker to potentially change or confirm what he/she is feeling. Reddy has, thus, managed to integrate social constructivism and universalism in such a way that emotions remain a valid category of historical analysis, whilst simultaneously allowing different regimes to be researched from an evaluative position.
Rosenwein applauds Reddy for his innovative use of the concept of emotives, but criticizes him for presenting such a bipartite view of society in which there is just one emotional regime and one emotional refuge.17 She postulates pre-modern societies were much more diverse and complex than Reddy’s theory suggests and, therefore, proposes using the term “emotional communities” (deliberately plural). Emotional communities are:
precisely the same as social communities – families, neighbourhoods, parliaments, guilds, monasteries, parish church memberships – but the researcher seeks above all to uncover systems of feeling; what these communities… define and assess as valuable or harmful to them; the
evaluations that they make about other’s emotions; the nature of the affective bonds between people that they recognise; and the modes of emotional expression that they expect, encourage, tolerate, and deplore18
Rosenwein argues any society will generally have several emotional communities co-existing with one another. It may be possible for a person to move from one emotional community to another, provided the new emotional community’s conventions are not radically different from those of the original emotional community. It is also possible that some emotional communities may be more dominant than others at certain points in time, but that this may
change as new or existing emotional communities come to the fore.19
Rosenwein and Reddy have, thus, both provided innovative and practical paradigms for analysing a wide range of sources in order to discover more about the emotional lives of past societies. This is why both these theories will be used for the purposes of this thesis –
17 Rosenwein, 2006, 23. 18 Plamper, 2015, 68. 19 Rosenwein, 2006, 2.
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though it may transpire that one model may prove more suited to Roman society than the other.
The prime focus of this thesis will be the emotional reactions of Roman parents when their infants20 died, as this has generated the most debate and confusion among scholars of
the ancient world. The parents examined in this thesis all come from the elite community or the freedman community at Rome as these two groups have produced the most evidence on this subject matter. This unfortunately means that the parents for which we have no evidence, such as the urban poor at Rome, will have to be overlooked. The time period covered in this thesis comprises a broad one: the last century of the Republic and the first three centuries of the Principate, although the main focus will be on the first two centuries of the Principate. The dangers of such a methodology are clear: in treating these four centuries as one
homogenous whole, little scope is left for change and development. Nevertheless, the limited evidence on infant death and on parental reactions to such a death, demands such an
approach. Moreover, such a study can be justified if seen as an attempt to gain an
introductory overview of parental reactions to infant death at Rome in general. What’s more, should any obvious developments or changes have been noted during the course of research, then these will be duly discussed in the main body of this thesis.
The sources that will be used for this thesis will be varied and plentiful in order to gain as complete a picture as possible of both the emotional conventions at Rome as well as of individual parental reactions to the death of an infant. In this sense, the consolatory literature on parental grief will form the starting point of this thesis such as Seneca’s Ad Marciam and Epistle XCIX and Plutarch’s Ad Uxorem and Ad Apollonium. It could be argued that using Plutarch as a source on Roman parental grief is risky as Plutarch lived most of his life in Greece and wrote in Greek. Yet, he was also a Roman citizen who visited Rome and had considerable knowledge of Roman institutions and history. Most importantly of all, he shared the same cultural outlook as the educated upper class at Rome and therefore, in my opinion, forms a reliable source for Roman parental attitudes towards infants and their deaths. In addition, Cicero’s Tusculanae Disputationes will be consulted in order to gain a greater understanding of how the different philosophical schools at Rome viewed grief and emotions in general. The personal letters of elite Roman men such as Cicero, Pliny, Seneca, Fronto and
20 It should be noted that for the purposes of this thesis, I am defining an infant as belonging to the 0-3 age
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Marcus Aurelius will also be used in order to gain insight into individual expressions of parental grief and the reactions of friends and family to such grief. Finally, Tacitus’ Annales will be consulted for descriptions of grieving notable Romans which will provide much information on the Roman ideal in terms of mourning. The literary sources will, thus, be used for gaining a deeper understanding of the emotional conventions of the elite regarding
parental grief and for gaining more insight into elite individual expressions of emotion surrounding the death of an infant. For similar information on the middle classes, the epigraphic and material evidence at Rome will be examined, in particular verse and prose inscriptions and the portraits on reliefs and funerary altars. Finally, the sarcophagi of infants will be discussed as these provide a great deal of insight into Roman attitudes (both middle class and elite) towards infants in general.
This thesis will attempt to answer two main research questions: namely, 1) what where the emotional conventions at Rome with regard to the mourning of infants? and 2) how did individual parents react to the death of an infant? The first question is of crucial value when attempting to uncover emotions of the past as emotional conventions heavily influence how individuals express their emotions as well as determining to a large extent how
individuals actually feel.21 Chapter two will, therefore, focus on the emotional conventions at Rome with regard to the proper mourning etiquette when an infant died. A variety of sources will be taken into account in answering this question ranging from literary sources to legal texts to epigraphic evidence to portraits on reliefs and funerary altars. In addition, each group will be examined separately in order to determine whether the emotional conventions at Rome differed slightly depending on whether you were an elite male, an elite women or a freedman or –woman. This approach owes much to Rosenwein’s model of emotional
communities and allows for a more in-depth analysis of the groups being studied, potentially revealing new results and insights. In addition, Reddy’s model will be used to determine whether Rome was a strict regime, ensuring individuals followed the prescribed conventions or whether Rome was a looser regime, allowing for some emotional liberty. The third chapter of this thesis will focus more on the attitudes and reactions of individual parents when their infants died. Again, both literary and archeological sources will be examined for this purpose for both the elite and freedman community. In particular, any recurring emotion words will be noted to determine what this can tell us about the feelings Roman parents were trying to
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express. Cicero’s list of emotion words will prove invaluable in this regard. The reactions of individual parents will also be compared to the emotional conventions at Rome and of each community in order to determine whether these parents were largely following convention in their behavior or whether they were going against the grain. Finally, a great deal of this chapter will be devoted to upending old theories and assumptions: for example, can it simply be assumed that high infant mortality always leads to parental indifference? Does the under-representation of infants in funerary inscriptions necessarily mean infants were not valued in Roman society? Do such practices as wet-nursing, the puer senex motif and exposure prove Roman parents avoided emotionally investing in the very youngest members of their society?
The importance of this research lies in gaining a better understanding of family dynamics at Rome. It is hoped that the innovative approach taken in this thesis will
demonstrate the validity of using emotion as a serious category of historical analysis and that by doing so, new perspectives will be gained on existing evidence. Perhaps, the new insights garnered in the course of this research may encourage other historians to use the models of Rosenwein and Reddy to reexamine both the archeological and literary evidence of ancient Rome.
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Chapter two: The Emotional Conventions at Rome
Regarding the Mourning of Infants.
Now, at this time, am I advising you to be hard-hearted, desiring you to keep your
countenance unmoved at the very funeral ceremony, and not allowing your soul even to feel the pinch of pain? By no means. That would mean lack of feeling rather than virtue22
Any scholar attempting to unearth emotions of the past, must examine the emotional conventions/standards of the period being studied. This includes determining which emotions were considered acceptable or unacceptable as well as determining which modes of
emotional expression were deemed most appropriate. Emotional conventions also frequently play an instrumental role in shaping how people actually feel23 and, thus, provide crucial
information for any scholar hoping to learn more about the types of emotions experienced in a particular society. The main purpose of this chapter, then, is to uncover Roman emotional conventions regarding the mourning of infants.
In this sense, Rome can be said to be rather different to present-day society as Rome had very specific regulations regarding mourning that were actually written down in law. Thus a legal text from the late second to early third century stipulates:
Parents and children over six years of age can be mourned for a year, children under six for a month.24
Similarly, a text by the late third century jurist, Ulpian, claims:
Parents are to be mourned for a year, as are children older than 10 years. Younger children are mourned for as many months as they have lived down to the age of three; a child younger than three years does not receive formal mourning but a marginal form; a child less than a year old receives neither
formal mourning nor a marginal form25
22 Seneca, Ep.XCIX.15.
23 Rosenwein, 2002, 824. Rosenwein here reiterates the theories of Carol and Peter Stearns and of Arlie
Hochschild.
24 Paulus, Opinions 1.21 in Hope, 2007, 174. 25 Frag. Vat. 3.21 in Rawson, 2003, 346.
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Finally, Plutarch offers yet another set of conventions that were supposedly established by the legendary king Numa:
For … a child of less than three years there was to be no mourning at all; over one older than that, the mourning was not to last more months than it had lived years, up to ten26
All of these texts, despite their slightly differing details, signify mourning for infants was expected to be briefer than for older children and adults. The implication is that losing an infant was not considered to be something worth grieving over. Presumably such rules applied to all Roman citizens living in Rome. To the modern historian such conventions may appear callous and unfeeling. Yet, the aim of this chapter is not to take a moral stance on such issues but rather to uncover whether these regulations were strictly enforced or whether other regulations also existed. In other words, can these three texts tell us all there is to know about the emotional conventions at Rome? And if so, did Rome subscribe to Reddy’s bipartite
model of “emotional regimes”27 and emotional refuges? Or was Rome largely constructed
along the lines of Rosenwein’s “emotional communities”,28 in which each community had
slightly differing emotional conventions, ensuring the formal mourning regulations
mentioned above were largely ignored? Unfortunately, the evidence at our disposal is rather limited, as large sections of Rome’s population, such as the urban poor, have left us no trace of their existence. We are therefore left only with the literary texts of the elite and the
epigraphic evidence of the freedman community, which is why these two groups will provide the main focus of this chapter.
The Elite Roman Male
Of all the peoples in the world, the Roman nation is unquestionably the one most outstanding in virtue 29
26 Plutarch, Lives “Numa”, 12. 27 Reddy, 2004.
28 Rosenwein, 2006.
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Pliny’s pride in the superiority of Roman virtue is a sentiment that is widely echoed
by many elite moralists and historians in Roman society.30 Roman moral pre-eminence was
not merely a source of glory, but was believed to have secured divine favour and thus accounted for Roman military success as well as its ever increasing empire.31 Moral virtue can thus be seen to be one of the distinguishing features of elite Roman identity.
The elite Roman male was especially exalted for virtues that were needed in politics and on the battle field such as virtus (courage), fortitudo (fortitude), and continentia (self-control).32 In particular, continentia seems to have gained a great deal of emphasis in the elite
male world due to the widespread belief that a lack of self-control signified an inability to control or govern others.33 Continentia can, thus, be viewed as a vital precondition for entry into any of the occupations available to elite men, whether in the military or political
sphere.34 Needless to say, such virtue was not expected of the lower classes who seem to have distinctly lacked such qualities.35 In fact, the ability of the elite to demonstrate such mastery over themselves justified and legitimised their rule over the non-elite and other foreign peoples who were considered to be incapable of such self-control.36 Continentia thus marked the elite Roman man from inferior groups37 and determined to a large extent how elite males were expected to express emotion. In terms of mourning, continentia meant elite males had to display restraint in their grief, exhibiting only minimal and controlled displays of emotion. An example of this can be seen in Tacitus’ description of Agricola after he had just lost his infant son:
In the beginning of the summer Agricola suffered a domestic blow: he lost the son born a year before. He took the loss neither with bravado, like most strong men, nor yet with the lamentations and mournings of a woman. Among other things, he turned for comfort to the war.38
30 Edwards, 1993, 21.Edwards gives such examples as Livy and Nespos. 31 Edwards, 1993, 21. 32 Hemelrijk, 2004. 33 Edwards, 1993, 26; Hemelrijk, 2004, 189. 34 Hemelrijk, 2004, 189. 35 Edwards, 1993, 24; Hemelrijk, 2004, 188-189. 36 Edwards, 1993, 25.
37 Inferior groups would include such categories as women, plebians, slaves and barbarians. 38 Tacitus, Agric. 29.1 (All translations, unless otherwise stated, are those of the Loeb).
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Tacitus greatly admired Agricola and thus his description of Agricola’s grief can be seen as the “Roman ideal” in terms of the proper way to mourn. Particularly praiseworthy would have been the fact that he did not ignore his public duty (the war) and that he even used it as a source of comfort to heal from his loss. Yet, what is particularly enlightening about this passage is the fact that it clarifies ostentatious displays of false fortitude were not correct interpretations of continentia. The ideal was to be restrained and dignified, not indifferent or callous. In fact, over-zealous continentia could backfire, as revealed in Tacitus’ description of Tiberius’ behaviour upon the death of Germanicus:
He39 and Augusta abstained from any appearance in public, either holding it below their majesty to sorrow in the sight of men, or apprehending that, if all eyes perused their looks, they might find hypocrisy legible.40
It is important to note Tacitus is being sarcastic in this extract and that he is ridiculing Tiberius and his mother for failing to make an appearance in public. Clearly, such behaviour was not appropriate. In fact, a little further on in the passage Tacitus accuses Tiberius and his mother of keeping Germanicus’ mother, Antonia, in the palace on purpose so as to make their own behaviour seem less unusual.41 It is clear that Tacitus believes Tiberius and his mother absented themselves from this occasion to avoid having the insincerity of their grief
uncovered in public. The fact that Tacitus mocks such behaviour would suggest Roman conventions deemed moderate sorrow to be both normal and acceptable when a family member died and that the conduct of Tiberius and his mother verged on heartlessness. Thus, elite codes of conduct regarding mourning were a great deal more complex than the term continentia would first seem to imply. The ideal was obviously not as simple as “just not showing any emotion”, rather it required a delicate balancing act of being able to master ones emotions without appearing callous.
A letter by Pliny, in which he speaks of his friend Minicius Fundanus who had just lost his daughter, offers further insight into Roman emotional conventions regarding mourning:
39 “He” refers to Tiberius. 40 Tacitus, Ann. III.3 41 Tacitus, Ann. III.3
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He is indeed a cultivated man and a philosopher … but at the moment he rejects everything he has so often heard and professed himself: he has cast off all his other virtues and is wholly absorbed by his love for his child. You will forgive and even admire him if you think of what he has lost …42
It is interesting that there appear to be two underlying messages in this text. On the one hand, Pliny asks the reader to “forgive” Fundanus for the intense nature of his grief, which would seem to imply this kind of grief was not considered ideal. Yet, at the same time, it seems to be expected that the reader will indeed “forgive and even admire” Fundanus, which suggests Pliny was fairly confident his reader would feel sympathy for Fundanus’ plight. That Pliny was so sure of his reader’s ability to feel empathy for Fundanus, makes it seem likely that Roman emotional conventions regarding continentia were less stringent than may first appear to be the case. There may well have been some understanding and tolerance for elite men who were not able to demonstrate mastery over their emotions in the most difficult moments of grief. Certainly it seems to be the case that emotional conventions were slightly loosened for men in the initial stages of mourning. For example, a little further on Pliny writes:
If then you write anything to him in his very natural sorrow … be gentle and sympathetic. Passage of time will make him readier to accept this: a raw
wound shrinks from a healing hand but later permits and even seeks help…43
That Pliny can prevail on his reader to be gentle and sympathetic in the early stages of grief indicates men were probably not expected to exhibit perfect continentia when first bereaved. In fact, Pliny talks about Fundanus’ natural sorrow – implying such sorrow was both
commonplace and understandable, at least in the initial stages of grief. Indeed, even Seneca, who is known for his severe and harsh attitude to excessive grief,44 acknowledges:
When a man is stricken and is finding it most difficult to endure a grievous wound, one must humour him for a while; let him satisfy his grief or at any
42 Pliny, Ep. V.16 43 Pliny, Ep. V.16
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rate work off the first shock; but those who have assumed an indulgence in
grief should be rebuked forthwith…45
Thus, even though the ability to control ones grief, without appearing callous, was an important part of elite Greco-Roman tradition, there did appear to be some leeway for men who were struggling to uphold these standards, particularly in the initial stages of grief. Interestingly enough, these emotional conventions do not seem to have changed significantly from the republican to the imperial period as Cicero subscribed to a similar view of
appropriate male grief to Seneca and Pliny.46 In this sense, Rome, as an emotional regime, could be argued to be at the looser end of the spectrum as there seems to have been some understanding for the emotions of the bereaved, signifying mourning regulations were not that vigorously enforced. On the other hand, in a society as diverse and stratified as Rome, it seems unlikely that one emotional style will have applied to everyone residing there. It therefore seems more appropriate to analyse Roman society through the lens of Rosenwein’s “emotional communities”. From this perspective, the concept of continentia would have applied to the entire class of elite Greco-Roman males. Yet, even here nuances must be made, as elite males did not form one homogenous whole. On the contrary, within this group, a variety of philosophical allegiances existed, including Stoicism, Epicureanism, and middle Platonism as well as eclecticism and those who professed no philosophical allegiance at all.47 Naturally, such an array of belief systems will have led to disparate views on emotional conventions and styles, meaning the emotional community of the elite male must have been further divided into sub-emotional communities. In fact, this is exactly the scenario sketched by Rosenwein: she proposes each emotional community be viewed as a large circle which then contains a number of smaller circles. The large circle should be viewed as the
overarching emotional community which encompasses shared emotional conventions, values, and accepted forms of emotional expression. “The smaller circles represent subordinate emotional communities, partaking in the larger one and revealing its possibilities and its limitations.”48 Thus for Rome, this means the entire male elite class will have complied with
45 Seneca, Ep, XCIX.1.
46 Thus, for example in At Att.XII.10 Cicero tells Atticus: “Your grief does credit to your heart, but you must try
your best to keep it in bounds” - implying the ideal was to exhibit continentia without appearing indifferent or heartless.
47 For example, Marcus Cornelius Fronto seems to have had no philosophical allegiance at all. 48 Rosenwein, 2006, 24.
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the general notion of continentia, while simultaneously following the conventions and modes of expression of their own smaller emotional communities.
One such smaller emotional community would be the Stoics, a school of philosophy that enjoyed a great deal of popularity in Rome. The Stoic take on emotions was very cognitive in nature.49 They believed emotions arose because of a judgement that a situation
was either good or bad, which in turn generated the belief that it was “appropriate to react in a certain way to a given situation”.50 For the Stoics, however, good and bad existed only in
the state of the soul with regards to whether a man was virtuous or not (virtue being defined first and foremost as being in accordance with nature through accepting divine will).51 All other things, such as bereavement, wealth, poverty, death, sickness, health etc., were
considered to be “externals” - neither good nor bad, but merely matters of indifference.52 The
Stoics, therefore, considered conventional emotions (such as grief, anger, fear etc) to be the product of a “defective, irrational, or diseased state of mind”53 as they were based on the mistaken belief that “externals” were indeed good or bad. As a result, conventional emotions had to be extirpated. Only the emotions of the wise person were considered to be “good” emotions as these were limited to a joyous attitude towards virtue and a cautious attitude towards possible ethical wrongdoing in the future.54 Given this stance, it is hardly surprising that Stoic philosophers such as Seneca took a fairly severe approach when dealing with the bereaved. A good example of this is Seneca’s letter to Marullus,55 who was mourning the
death of his infant son. Seneca severely chastised Marullus for his excessive grief as can be seen from the opening line of the letter:
“Is it solace that you look for? Let me give you a scolding instead!”56
Seneca continues in this rather abusive and unsympathetic tone as a little further on in the letter he states:
49Gill, 2012, 143. 50 Gill, 2012, 146.
51 Starr, 1949. Accepting divine will meant accepting whichever circumstance befell you and not resisting the
situation you were in.
52 Starr, 1949. 53 Gill, 2012, 150. 54 Gill, 2012, 151.
55 Marullus may well have been a fictive character. In any case, whether this is true or not, it seems certain
that Seneca intended to publish this letter.
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Yours is not pain; it is a mere sting—and it is you yourself who are turning it into pain. Of a surety philosophy has done you much service if you can bear courageously the loss of a boy who was as yet better known to his nurse than to his father!57
To the modern scholar such words appear shockingly harsh. Yet, a closer reading of this letter indicates Seneca’s ruthless words should not be taken as representative of the Stoic
consolatory tradition nor of Roman attitudes towards infants.58 For, Seneca himself, in the
introduction of this letter59 says:
I enclose a copy of the letter which I wrote to Marullus at the time when he had lost his little son and was reported to be rather womanish in his grief… a letter in which I havenot observed the usual form of condolence: for I did not believe that he should be handled gently, since in my opinion he deserved criticism rather than consolation60
Seneca, thus, admits that the style used in this letter did not conform to the accepted manner of how the bereaved should be addressed. This is corroborated by the fact that Seneca felt the need to justify his decision to use such a style, which implies he knew his readers would have found his letter too harsh and too severe. Perhaps Seneca chose such an approach because he felt Marullus’ grief had gone on for too long (ie. it was no longer limited to the initial stages of grief) or perhaps Marullus’ grief was so excessive that it went beyond what other Roman males could accept and understand. In any case, it is interesting that though Marullus was grieving the death of his infant son, Seneca still felt the need to defend the unsympathetic tone of his letter. This implies emotional conventions required parents of recently deceased infants to be treated
57 Seneca, Ep. XCIX.14-15.
58 Wilson, 1997. Wilson argues the hostility of Seneca’s letter can be explained by the fact that Seneca did not
want to actually heal Marullus as was the case with most consolatory letters; rather he wanted to stir Marullus up and empower him so that he would be ready to fight his grief. To strengthen his argument, Wilson draws attention to all the battle imagery Seneca uses in this letter, which admittedly is copious. Wilson may have a point in that Seneca may have thought this approach may be more successful in helping Marullus; but even if this is not case, Wilson is correct in emphasising Seneca’s letter forms an anomaly to the rest of the
consolatory tradition which was usually much softer and more sympathetic in tone.
59 Seneca had written this letter to his friend Lucilius in which he included a copy of the letter he had written to
Marullus. It is this version of the letter that has survived to this day.
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with compassion; which would seem to suggest the deaths of infant children were considered to be a sad and painful event.
In any case, it is clear that Seneca’s overtly severe tone was not typical of the Stoic approach. Indeed, a little further on in the same letter, he writes:
Now, at this time, am I advising you to be hard-hearted, desiring you to keep your countenance unmoved at the very funeral ceremony, and not allowing your soul even to feel the pinch of pain? By no means. That would mean lack of feeling rather than virtue …61
That Seneca, one of the more strident voices in the consolatory tradition, can write such words, makes it seem fairly evident even the Stoics realised a complete extirpation of
emotions was not realistic or possible for most men. Rather, it seems the main message of the Stoics was that it was important to accept, not resist, whatever befell one, as everything happened in accordance with divine will. Marcus Aurelius expresses this rather eloquently in the Meditations:
To feel grief, anger or fear is to try to escape from something decreed by the ruler of all things, now in the past or in the future. And that ruler is law, which governs what happens to each of us. To feel grief or anger or fear is to become a fugitive – a fugitive from justice.62
Another recurring theme in Stoic consolatory literature is the concept that (excessive) grief is not actually caused by the death of a loved one, but rather by the false belief that death is a bad thing and that therefore grief and mourning are justified.63 Seneca touches on this issue
several times:
But false opinion has added something more to our grief than Nature has prescribed.64
61 Seneca, Ep.XCIX.15.
62 Marcus Aurelius, Med, 10.25 (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2003).
63 For as mentioned earlier, the Stoics did not believe that “externals” were good or bad, they were merely
matters of indifference.
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What tortures us, therefore, is an opinion, and every evil is only as great as we have reckoned it to be. In our own hands we have the remedy65
It is worth noting that in the first passage, Seneca does acknowledge it is natural to feel something (what the Stoics might call a pre-emotion or a “bite”66) at the death of a loved one.
Indeed, the Stoics did not advocate indifference when having lost a loved one, rather they drew a distinction between actual grief and what they called “biting”. “Biting” entailed a sort of pre-emotion or a non-culpable response (such as weeping or a contraction of the chest) which signalled an emotion was imminent. “Bitings” were, however, not actual emotions and the wise man could use reason to circumvent giving in to actual emotions and grief. Indeed, Cicero explains just this concept in book three of the Tusculan Disputations when he states:
Distress of any kind is far removed from the wise person … because it has its origin not in nature, but in judgment and opinion … that grief is appropriate. Once this entirely voluntary belief is removed, distress will be eliminated—the real, unhappy distress, that is; but the mind will still feel a bite, still be
contracted a little from time to time. This last they may indeed call “natural,” provided they do not use the name “distress.” For that is a grim and deadly name, which cannot by any means coexist or, as it were, dwell together with
wisdom67
It seems likely that if even the elusive wise man of Stoic philosophy was susceptible to the odd “bite” from time to time, the Stoics would have recognised and understood the complete annihilation of conventional emotions were beyond the reach of the ordinary man.
Cicero, himself, was of course not a Stoic, as he professed an allegiance to the New Academy.68 However, in book three of the Tusculan Disputations, which deals specifically
with the topic of grief, Cicero took a Stoic line as can be seen in the passage just quoted. This formed quite a contrast to the Peripatetic position he usually took, in which he advocated the
65 Seneca, Ad. Marc. XIX.1
66 Gill, 2012, 155. The term “bite” will be explained shortly.
67 Cicero, Tusc. Disp. III.82-83. For book III of the Tusculan Disputations the following translation was used:
Margaret Graver, Cicero on the Emotions: Tusculan Disputations 3 and 4, Translated and with commentary by
Margaret Graver, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002).
68 Graver, 2002, xii. The New Academy takes a slightly sceptical stance, denying the possibility of knowing truth
and allowing its followers to study other schools of philosophy and to agree with which ever one seems most plausible.
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necessity of moderate grief.69 The Peripatetics generally believed humans were rational, meaning their emotions (in moderation) were rational too.70 Why then did Cicero take such a different approach in the Tusculan Disputations? Graver believes the explanation may lie in the fact that, at this particular time, Cicero had been subject to quite a bit of criticism because of his long absence from Rome due the death of his daughter Tullia.71 The elite at Rome
presumed his absence was due to the deep grief he felt at his daughter’s death and they disapproved of such behaviour as elite males at Rome were expected to put their public duty before private loss.72 Cicero’s failure to comply with these conventions led to reproof and
reproach as can be seen in his correspondence with Atticus:
You urge me to disguise the intensity of my grief and say that others think I do not do so sufficiently.73
You say you think it time that my strength of mind should be made clearly apparent, and that certain people are talking about me in more censorious terms than either you or Brutus use in your letters.74
You say you are afraid my influence and authority may suffer by my present mourning. I don’t know what people find to criticize or what they expect. Do they want me to stop grieving? How can I? Or not to be prostrate with grief? Was anyone ever less so?75
Graver argues Cicero took a Stoic outlook in the Tusculan Disputations because he believed this would convince his critics that he still had “strength of mind” and that he was still
69 Cicero, Ad Att. XII.10; Cicero, Ad. Brut.I.9.2. Or in De Oratore 2.196 Cicero shows why emotions are
important and useful in oratory.
70 Knuuttilia, 2006, 25. 71 Graver, 2002, xii – xiii.
72 Hope, 2007, 175. Hope gives examples of elite men who were praised for prioritising the empire over their
own sorrows. For example, when Marcus Aureliu lost his son Verus Caesar, he mourned him for no longer than five days and even during that period, gave time to people who needed to consult him on public affairs (Historia Augusta, “Marcus Aurelius” 21.4). To be sure, much of this evidence is anecdotal in nature but it does give great insight into what was considered ideal mourning behavior for elite men.
73 Cicero, Ad Att. XII.20.1 74 Cicero, Ad Att. XII.38a
75 Cicero, Ad Att. XII.40.2 I thank Hemelrijk for providing a more accurate translation of gratia and auctoritas
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devoted to the public good.76 For, in promoting Stoic thought, with its rigorous and courageous approach, as the most effective remedy to grief, Cicero demonstrated his own equanimity and conquest of grief.77 Graver is fairly convincing in her argument as Cicero’s letters to Atticus do reveal how troubled he was by the allegations made against him, and little else can explain why he would suddenly demonstrate such a preference for Stoicism.
The criticism levelled at Cicero is also interesting in terms of emotions history as it offers us greater insight into the types of “penalties” that could be expected if emotional conventions at Rome were not followed. In Cicero’s case, it seems that such penalties did not amount to much more than gossip and disapproval. Yet, given the competitive nature of politics at Rome, it is conceivable that such gossip and disapproval could potentially damage a man’s reputation and thus even his career. Interestingly, the evidence does not seem to confirm such a theory: for, not a single example exists of a Roman being demoted or losing his post due to excessive grief. In fact, Romans who grieved excessively were not even penalised with social exclusion or isolation. For example, Cicero received a great deal of unwavering support from his friends Atticus, Brutus, and Lucceius despite the criticism being levelled at him. The same can be said of Apollonius whose grief had gone on for quite a while78 or for Marcia who had been grieving the death of her son for over three years and still received a relatively compassionate consolation letter from Seneca after all that time.79 Nor did the emperor issue penalties for deviant emotional behaviour as one would expect if Rome corresponded to Reddy’s top-down model of emotional regimes.80 Rather, it seems as if
people within the emotional communities themselves mildly chastised a person if he/she did not adhere to the conventions of a particular community. This correlates closely to
Rosenwein’s theory that power and decision-making regarding emotional conventions and penalties lay with the people of the emotional communities rather than with the political leader.81
Stoicism may have been one of the most influential schools of philosophy at Rome, but there were many other options available to elite Roman men such as Epicureanism and
76 Graver, 2002, .xiv 77 Graver, 2002, xiv. 78 Plutarch, Ad Apol, 122 A. 79 Seneca, Ad Marc. 1.7
80 Reddy, 2004, 125. For example, Reddy mentions violence, confinement, deprivation and exile as possible
examples of penalties that could be expected in a strict emotional regime.
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middle Platonism82. Epicureanism was slightly less popular in elite Roman society as it encouraged its followers to withdraw from political life.83 Nevertheless, it remained a
respected movement and enjoyed considerable clout at Rome. In fact, Cicero’s closest friend, Atticus, was an Epicurean. The Epicureans had a completely different set of ethical values to the Stoics as they denied the idea of the universe having a divine structure or plan.
Consequently, virtue was not the most important goal for an Epicurean, pleasure was.84 The Epicureans defined pleasure as the absence of all physical and mental pain, as this formed the basis for tranquillity. Epicurus believed most people were not able to achieve this state due to false beliefs about what was important in life. He argued that natural desires (those necessary to achieve the Epicurean goal of freedom from pain) were easily attainable. The problem was that people often held desires associated with false beliefs (that wealth, status, power etc were important). In general, Epicurus considered emotions to be a threat to the Epicurean goal of tranquillity. He did consider some emotions to be natural but thought that they should be moderated by reason. Unpleasant feelings such as grief could be cured by abandoning false beliefs about death. However, this was a slow process as many of these beliefs were deeply rooted in the human mind. Therefore, the immediate solution for pain (physical or mental) was avocatio, distracting the mind from pain by conjuring up pleasant thoughts or
memories.85 It thus seems fairly safe to assume the Epicureans would not have encouraged excessive expressions of grief; as they would have reminded the bereaved that these feelings were based on false beliefs86 and should be overcome by using reason and avocatio.
The middle Platonists had a slightly different concept of emotions. In keeping with the Platonic notion of a tripartite soul, they determined emotions arose in the passionate part of the soul (which was further subdivided into the spirited part and the appetitive part).
Alcinous, the founder of middle Platonism, conceived of emotions as either “tame” or “wild”. “Tame” emotions were considered to be natural, moderate emotions, whereas “wild”
emotions were seen as uncontrolled and unnatural. The middle Platonists argued natural emotions could not be eliminated from the human condition, and could even have a positive
82 or Peripateticism which was briefly mentioned earlier in this section when Cicero was being discussed. The
Peripatetics were followers of Aristotle and to be very succinct, believed emotions were useful in moderation, provided the kind and level of emotion was ethically appropriate to the situation.
83 Gill, 2012, 159.
84 Graver, Cicero on Emotions, p.xxvi.
85 The information given on Epicureans in this paragraph is derived from Knuuttilia, 2006, 82 -87.
86 The Epicureans did not believe one should become too dependent or attached to people precisely because it
could cause this kind of disturbance in the mind. Therefore, grief would have been seen as associated with the false belief that one “needed” the person that had just died. The Epicureans did place huge value on altruistic friendship, by which friends could help and guide one another to lead a true Epicurean life.
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effect.87 The ideal for middle Platonists was thus metriopatheia (moderation of emotions) rather than the Stoic apatheia (freedom of emotions). In terms of grief, this meant the middle Platonists would have believed moderate grief to be both a natural and necessary response to the death of a loved one. Indeed, the quintessential middle Platonic view on grief is most aptly described by Plutarch in a passage in which he praises metriopatheia and criticises apatheia as a method for dealing with the death of a loved one:
The pain and pang felt at the death of a son has in itself good cause to awaken grief, which is only natural, and over it we have no control. For I, for my part, cannot concur with those who extol that harsh and callous indifference, which is both impossible and unprofitable. For this will rob us of the kindly feeling which comes from mutual affection and which above all else we must
conserve. But to be carried beyond all bounds and to help in exaggerating our griefs I say is contrary to nature, and results from our depraved ideas.88
It is interesting that an analysis of the different male elite emotional communities at Rome uncovers a variety of disparate views on emotions and how to deal with them, whist
simultaneously revealing a remarkable amount of similarities. For example, nearly all of the male elite emotional communities at Rome disapproved of strong emotions whilst either praising or, at least accepting, moderate emotions. Even the Stoics, famed for their notion of apatheia, seem to have conceded a complete extirpation of emotions was not attainable for the ordinary man. This idea of moderation ties in nicely with the overarching, shared elite value of continentia, confirming the idea that elite men at Rome really did form an emotional community, which, in turn, raises the question of how elite women fitted into this picture. Were they part of this emotional community or did they form a separate emotional
community of their own with different conventions? This is what will be examined in the next section of this chapter.
Elite Women
87 The information given on middle Platonists in this paragraph is derived from Knuuttilia, 2006, 90. 88 Plutarch, Ad. Apol, 102 C-D.
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A cursory reading of Greco-Roman consolatory literature reveals marked gender differences in terms of how men and women were expected to mourn. Seneca, for example, informs us:
Our fore-fathers have enacted that, in the case of women, a year should be the limit for mourning … In the case of men, no rules are laid down, because to mourn at all is not regarded as honourable.89
Naturally, some caution should be exercised in reading this statement as it is clearly written from a Stoic perspective which, as we have seen above, considered apatheia to be the ideal when it came to mourning. Nevertheless, it seems unlikely that Seneca would stress gender differences in mourning conventions if these didn’t exist, particularly given how highly he praises those few females that did demonstrate restraint and composure in their grief.90 Moreover, all of the extant consolatory literature deems emotional, demonstrative mourning to be a distinctly feminine trait. For example, Seneca expresses his disapproval of Marullus’ excessive grief by telling him:
You are like a woman in the way you take your son’s death.91
And to Marcia he says:
though they suffer the same bereavement women are wounded more deeply than men92
Women were thus expected to grieve more extravagantly than men due to their so-called inferior and weaker nature. For example, when Plutarch’s wife demonstrated perfect composure and continentia at the death of her eldest child, strangers refused to believe the child had actually died, so remarkable was such behaviour from a woman.93 It was, of course,
89 Seneca, Ep, LXIII.13.
90 The two females he esteems most highly in this regard are Livia and Cornelia. Seneca, Ad Marc. This point
will be discussed in more detail further on in this section.
91 Seneca, Ep. XCIX.2. 92 Seneca, Ad Marc, VII.3
93 Plutarch, Ad Uxor,VII.5 One should not discount the fact that Plutarch may have slightly exaggerated this
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highly advantageous for men to portray women as weak and immoderate in their emotions as this justified male superiority over them and kept the system of male dominance intact. Indeed, any group inferior to the elite Greco-Roman male was accused of “feminine grief” for precisely this reason, as can be seen in Plutarch’s consolatory letter to Apollonius:
mourning is verily feminine , and weak, and ignoble, since women are more given to it than men, and barbarians more than Greeks, and inferior men more than better men.94
It is clear that “female” grief was considered to be something weak and bad, not just for men but for women too. This raises the question as to whether elite men and women belonged to the same emotional community or not, as clearly different behaviour was expected of men than of women. A key feature of emotional communities is that members share the same emotional conventions and values. It therefore stands to reason that if Roman elite men and women had belonged to the same emotional community, both genders would have agreed continentia was a male virtue and that women were weaker and more
demonstrative in their grief. Unfortunately, no recording of the female perspective on Roman emotional conventions exists as all our evidence on this subject comes from elite men. The best alternative, therefore, is to use a heuristic approach in the hopes that this may bring us closer to uncovering Roman female thoughts on this matter. A comparison with present-day Western society also reveals gender differences in terms of accepted emotional behaviour. Men in our society are expected to demonstrate their “manliness” by appearing mentally
tough and emotionally reserved,95 whereas females are expected to be much more
emotional.96 It also appears to be the case that certain emotions are associated with a specific
gender: thus fear and sadness are typically associated with females whereas anger is affiliated with males.97 Nor do these stereotypes appear to be completely inaccurate as Vingerhoets and
Scheirs looked at 14 studies in which the relationship between crying and gender was
investigated and found that “women report a greater propensity to cry, a greater actual crying frequency and more intense crying than do men”.98 Yet, what is interesting in this study is
that there was a cultural variation in these results: for, in non-Western countries there were
94 Plutarch, Ad Apol, 113 A 95 Shields, 2013, 427 - 428. 96 Brody and Hall, 2008, 396. 97 Brody, 1997, 369.
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hardly any gender differences in crying whereas in Western countries there were huge gender differences in crying.99 Similarly, a study that compared the emotional reactions of Asians with the emotional reactions of Americans revealed a substantial difference between males and females in the American sample, but no gender differences in the Japanese sample.100 This would imply the gender differences observed in crying and emotions in the West were largely culturally determined rather than biologically. It would then seem that both Western men and women share the same emotional conventions: namely, that men should be more “emotionally reserved” whereas women should be “more emotional”. Indeed, one would expect, if Western men and women were truly bothered by these stereotypes of themselves they would change their behaviour. Thus, in the case of Western women, if they really did not want to be seen as “more emotional”, they would try to invalidate this notion by suppressing their emotions in the way that men do. It would seem this is possible if we consider that there were hardly any gender differences in terms of emotion and crying in non-Western countries. It, thus, appears to be the case that non-Western women adhere to an idea of themselves as more vulnerable and emotional. It is therefore not unthinkable that Roman women shared the same emotional conventions as Roman men, believing that they, as females, were more prone to excessive grief.101 In fact, there are fragments of evidence that seem to confirm this was the case. For Plutarch in his consolatory letter to his wife makes the following comments:
but she must hold that the tempest and tumult of her emotion in grief requires continence no less, a continence that does not resist maternal affection, as the multitude believe, but the licentiousness of the mind102
you must not dwell upon the present tears and lamentations of your visitors, a performance dictated by a pernicious custom and rehearsed to every sufferer103
The first extract suggests there were people (namely, the multitude) who equated female continentia in grief with a lack of maternal love. These people clearly thought women should
99 Fischer and Manstead, 2000, 73 -74. 100 Fischer and Manstead, 2000, 73.
101 It is also very likely that elite Roman women would have felt a great deal of disdain for an elite man
incapable of demonstrating continentia.
102 Plutarch, Ad Uxorem, 609 A. 103 Plutarch, Ad Uxorem, 611 B.
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demonstrate their grief. It seems unlikely that the term “multitude” refers to elite men as the term “hoi polloi” is usually used to denote the masses. It could well be then that the masses expected women to grieve, which would at least offer us some insight into their emotional community. On the other hand, if a philosopher uses the term “hoi polloi” it can also be taken to mean “laymen” (ie. anyone without the proper philosophical insights, not necessarily the masses)104. In this sense, Plutarch, as a middle Platonist, may be referring to the non-philosophical elite. Again, it seems unlikely that he is referring to elite males in this regard, as all elite men were expected to embrace continentia as a Roman ideal. It, therefore, seems implausible that they would openly denounce female continentia as signifying a lack of maternal love. It seems more tenable that Plutarch is referring to Roman women and in particular to the elite. Roman elite women may well have internalised emotional conventions to such an extent that they believed it was impossible for women, as the weaker sex, to show self-restraint in grief. Consequently, females that did display composure and restraint in their grief may have been accused of maternal indifference and a lack of feeling. This idea is supported by the second extract by Plutarch in which he cautions his wife to ignore the tears and laments of her visitors. The visitors mentioned here are most likely to have been elite women as it seems improbable that elite men, bound by notions of continentia, would have cried and lamented in such a manner. Nor does it seem plausible that these visitors would have been women of the lower classes as Rome was a highly stratified society, meaning it would have been inappropriate for a lower class woman to visit an elite matron at such an intimate, private moment.105 Rather, it appears to have been the custom for elite women to visit each other after a death and to openly grieve and lament together. This tells us elite women probably did endorse the same conventions as elite men, and considered
demonstrative mourning to be the terrain of females. Naturally, the passage above could be citing a specifically Greek custom but even if this is the case, the uniformity of Greco-Roman values, would imply that if Greek elite women considered it appropriate for females to mourn openly, Roman elite woman would have done so too.
The final piece of evidence that supports the idea that elite men and women belonged to the same emotional community is the fact that women could conquer these inferior female qualities by expressing their grief in similar ways to men, through continentia and virtus. Women who managed to display such admirable qualities were praised and respected by elite
104 I thank dr Flinterman for explaining the connotations of this Greek term to me.
105 Although it is possible that rich women of a slightly lower standing, such as freedwomen, may have visited
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men. Thus Plutarch, as we have already seen, expressed great pride in his wife’s composure at the death of their youngest daughter.106 and Seneca applauds the courage and self-control Livia and Cornelia displayed at the death of their children.107 In fact Seneca even quotes Cornelia in a particularly moving passage:
Twelve births did she recall by as many deaths … Yet to those who tried to comfort her and called her unfortunate she said: “Never shall I admit that I am not fortunate, I who have borne the Gracchi.108
The fact that these women were able to display such aptitude in qualities normally reserved for men, allowed them to transcend their gender and become ‘honorary men’.109 A
phenomenon that seems quite curious in such a patriarchal society as Rome. Yet, such women never really represented a threat to the social order at Rome. For, such women were too few in number to really challenge the system. What’s more, the ideal Roman woman did not just possess male virtues such as continentia and virtus, she also possessed traditional female virtues such as pudicitia (chastity), modestia (modesty), and obsequium (obedience – particularly to her husband).110 In fact it was essential for her to retain these female virtues as well as more masculine attributes such as continentia and virtus. A woman that only
displayed masculine qualities without exhibiting any of the female virtues was ridiculed and criticised to such an extent that her reputation was often damaged.111 In this sense, the social order at Rome was always kept intact because Roman female virtue ensured women
remained subordinate to men. What’s more, women lacking these female virtues were ridiculed to such an extent that they too remained powerless.
Wilcox raises an additional point that is of interest to the male-female dynamic in
mourning.112 She argues that model Roman women such as Livia and Cornelia, though
praised for their restraint and courage, also served another purpose in Seneca’s letters. For, most of Seneca’s consolatory writings would have been intended for a male audience, even those letters addressed to Marcia and his mother.113 Wilcox therefore postulates Seneca
106 Plutarch, Ad Uxor. 608 F.
107 On his praise of Livia: Seneca, Ad Marc. 3.1-2. On his praise of Cornelia: Ad Marc, 16.3-4. 108 Seneca, Ad Marc, 16.3-4. 109 Hemelrijk, 2004, 191. 110 Hemelrijk, 2004, 194. 111 Hemelrijk, 2004, 194. 112 Wilcox, 2006, 73-100. 113 Wilcox, 2006, 75.
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included examples of female virtue in his work primarily to provide a corrective function for men, rather than to glorify women.114 In other words, Seneca’s message was mainly intended for those men incapable of demonstrating sufficient continentia.115 He was trying to goad such men into virtue by saying: if women such as Livia and Cornelia could excel in male virtue, what excuse was there for a man to not be able to? Wilcox makes a convincing argument, especially as this phenomenon can be observed in present day society as well. Imagine, for example, a scenario in which a group of friends, composed of both men and women, go on a rollercoaster ride. The women happily get in the rollercoaster without any fear, but one of the men refuses to get in as he is frightened. It would not be unusual for one of the men to then say something like “Don’t be such a sissy, even the girls are not afraid to go on this ride”. Female courage is thus often used as a device for shaming men into action. Thus, in terms of ancient Rome, this most likely implies a courageous or virtuous woman was still a woman and therefore inferior to a man: she was never solely praised for her qualities, as there was always an underlying message of “see, even she can do it”.
Nevertheless, it seems highly probable that elite men and women did belong to the same emotional community as the evidence suggests both genders shared the same emotional conventions and values. What’s more, Roman society appears to have accepted some
plasticity of gender in terms of emotional expression which further underlines the idea that both elite men and women belonged to the same emotional community.
We thus have some insight into the emotional conventions of the elite, but what of the other groups in Roman society? Rome’s population was highly stratified and diverse and must have exhibited quite some differences in terms of emotional conventions.
Unfortunately, most of these groups must remain largely unexplored as they have left us little trace of their existence, let alone of their emotional conventions. There is one group,
however, that has left us with some evidence of their emotional behaviour and that is the freedman community. It is to this group that we turn in the final section of this chapter.
Freedmen and -women
114 Wilcox, 2006, 80 -81.
115 As well as stimulating those men who already excelled in continentia, to persist with their virtuous
