Source 5.5: Roman Women in Protest

On occasion, women not only wrote but also acted in the public arena. Boudica of Britain and Trung Trac of Vietnam led movements of military resistance against Roman and Chinese invaders. Perpetua of North Africa refused the counsel of her father and of Roman officials to renounce her conversion to Christianity. Aspasia associated as an equal partner with the Athenian leader Pericles and accompanied him in the elite social circles of Athens. When Roman authorities in 42 B.C.E. imposed a tax on wealthy women, a large group of these women stormed into the Forum, where one of them, Hortensia, made a passionate speech. “Why should we pay taxes when we do not participate in public offices, nor honours, nor commands, nor the whole government,” she asked. “Women’s sex absolves them among all mankind [from paying taxes].”2

A particularly well-known example of women’s public action took place in Rome, well before Hortensia’s protest, in the wake of the Second Punic War with Carthage in North Africa. In 218 B.C.E., the Carthaginian commander Hannibal had invaded the Italian peninsula and threatened Rome itself. In these desperate circumstances, Roman authorities passed the Oppian Law (215 B.C.E.), which restricted women’s use of luxury goods so as to preserve resources for the war effort. Twenty years later (195 B.C.E.), with Rome now secure and prosperous, Roman women demanded the repeal of those laws and in the process triggered a major debate among Roman officials. That debate and the women’s protest that accompanied it were chronicled early in the first century C.E. by Livy, a famous Roman historian.

Questions to consider as you examine the source:

Livy

History of Rome, Early First Century C.E.

The law prohibited any woman from having more than a half ounce of gold, wearing fancy clothes, or riding in a carriage through city or town. The restriction on carriages extended to distances of up to a mile from the city or town and did not apply if the woman was going to a public religious ceremony. . . .

Many upper class men publicly argued for or against the law, and a crowd of men similarly divided filled the Capitol. Women blocked the streets of the city and the entrances to the Forum, asking the men who tried to enter to repeal the law on the grounds that now the Republic as a whole was flourishing and everyone’s individual circumstances were getting better. Husbands were unable to use their authority, their influence, or their embarrassment at what was happening to keep their wives at home. The crowd of women grew daily, and even women from neighboring towns and villages joined them. Then they dared to approach the consuls, praetors and other magistrates and petition them. But one of the consuls, Marcus Cato, was not at all open to their requests.

Cato spoke in support of the law they were trying to repeal:

Citizens, if each of us had aimed to maintain a husband’s rights and authority over his wife, we would have less of a problem with women as a whole. Our prerogatives — already laid low in our homes by women’s lack of self control — are also here in the Forum crushed and trampled. Because we did not control each woman individually, we tremble before a whole group of them. . . .

Indeed, just a little while ago I blushed red when I came into the forum through an army of women on the march. If respect for the dignity and modesty of some individual women (more than for that of the group as a whole) had not held me back. . . . I would have said, “Running around in public, blockading the streets, and accosting other women’s husbands — what kind of behavior is that? Couldn’t you have each individually made the same requests to your man at home? Does your charm work better in public on other women’s men than it does at home on your own man? But it is not proper even at home to concern yourself with what laws should be proposed or repealed here in the Forum — at least not if the rules of modesty keep married women within proper limits.”

Our ancestors did not want females to conduct any, not even personal, business without a guardian as their agent. Our ancestors wanted them to be under the control of their fathers, brothers or husbands. We, gods help us, now even allow them to engage in public affairs, and to meddle with our assemblies, voting and business in the forum. For what else are they doing now in the streets and on the corners but supporting the proposal of the people’s tribunes and recommending that the law be repealed? Go ahead, give free reins to these untamed creatures with their uncontrolled natures and hope that they will put a limit to their license even if you won’t. This issue is the least of what women must do against their will because of our laws and customs. They want freedom — no, to speak truthfully, license — in everything. What will they try if they triumph now? . . . The instant they begin to be your equals, they will become your superiors. . . .

What excuse can women honestly give for their rebellion? One says, “So that we can shine dressed in purple and gold, so that we can ride carriages through the city whether there is a religious festival or not.” . . .

A woman who has her own money will spend it, and one who does not will ask her husband for it. Whether he gives her his money or watches her get it from another man, he will be miserable either way. But right now they solicit other women’s husbands in public and, even worse, propose legislation and solicit votes — and some men are giving them what they want. . . .

Do not think, citizens, that the situation will ever be the same as it once was after the law has been repealed. . . .

Then Lucius Valerius spoke on behalf of his proposal.

. . . The women have in public petitioned you to repeal — at a time of peace when the republic is blessed and flourishing — a law passed during hard times when we were at war. And because of that, Cato calls this gathering an “insurrection” and, at times, a “women’s revolt.” . . . In the end, are women doing anything strange when they gather together and stand up in public on an issue that affects them? Have they never appeared in public before now? . . . Learn how often women have acted in public, and, indeed, always for the public good.

Already at the beginnings of Rome, when Romulus was king, the Sabines captured the Capitol. There was hand-to-hand combat in the Forum. Did not the women then put an end to the fight when they rushed between the two armies? . . . When the Gauls captured Rome, did not the women all together provide their gold for public use to ransom the city? And — so I do not just select examples from times past — during the most recent war with Carthage, we had a shortage of money. Did not the widows then give their money to support the pubic treasury? When we summoned new gods to aid us in those troubled times, did not the women as a whole go down to the sea to welcome the goddess Cybele? You say these cases are different. My job is not to show they are the same. It is enough to defend the women against the charge that what they are doing is not normal. Given that it is no wonder that women take action in situations affecting everyone, male and female, equally, why would we be surprised that they take action on behalf of a cause that is their very own? . . . [W]e have proud ears if, even though masters do not get upset at the requests of their slaves, we are offended by what respectable women ask of us. . . .

Who then does not know that this law is recent, passed twenty years ago when Quintus Fabius and Titus Sempronius were consuls? Since women have lived the most moral lives for years without it, what ultimately is the danger that they would rush into extravagant luxury once the law has been repealed? . . . Will the fruits of peace and public calm come to everyone but our wives? . . . And, although you, a man, can wear purple, you will not allow the mother of your children to wear a purple cloak? And will your horse’s apparel be more splendid than your wife’s? . . .

Cato said that there would be no rivalry between individual women if they owned nothing. But, by Hercules, there is universal pain and anger when they cannot wear jewelry yet see the wives of our Latin allies do so, when they see them conspicuous in gold and purple, when they see them ride through the city and have to follow them on foot, as if we did not rule over the Latin cities. Such things can wound men’s spirits. What do you think they do to our little gals? Even minor things bother them. Women cannot be magistrates or priests, hold a triumph, receive honors, rewards, or get the spoils of war. Elegance, fancy dress and refinement — these are their honors. They rejoice and glory in them. Our ancestors called these things “the women’s world.” What else besides purple and gold do women take off while mourning? What else do they put on when done with mourning? What do they do for religious festivals and thanksgivings except wear fancier dress?

“If you repeal the Oppian law, you will not have the authority to forbid any of the things which the law forbids. Some men will have less control of their daughters, wives and sisters.” Really? Women always want to be slaves to their male relatives and husbands. And they themselves hate the freedom that comes from the death of a husband or male relatives. They prefer that you, instead of a law, decide how they dress. And you should act as their guardians and keep them in hand, but not in slavery. Prefer to be called fathers or husbands, not masters.

The consul just now used prejudicial terms when he called this a “women’s revolt” and an “insurrection.” For the danger, supposedly, is that they will seize the Sacred Mount . . . as the lower classes once did when they were angry. But women in their weakness must live with whatever you decide, and the more powerful your authority, the more you should use it in moderation.

After these speeches for and against the law, a much larger crowd of women poured forth in public the next day. Like an army they lay siege to the houses of Marcus and Publius Brutus, the tribunes who were vetoing their colleagues’ proposal to repeal the law. The women did not stand down until the tribunes withdrew their veto. . . . Twenty years after the law was passed, it was repealed.

Source: Livy, Ab Urbe Condita, vol. 5, books 31–35, edited by Alexander Hugh McDonald (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965). Translated by Edward Gutting.

Notes

  1. Ian Michael Plant, ed., Women Writers of Ancient Greece and Rome (London: Equinox Publishing, 2004), 105.