The case of Epponina was an instance of extreme rigour, or rather cruelty. She was the wife of Julius Sabinus, a leading chief among the Lingones. This man, Tacitus has told us, had the vanity to derive his pedigree from Julius Cæsar, who, he said, during his wars in Gaul, was struck with the beauty of his grandmother, and alleviated the toils of the campaign in her embraces. Ambitious, bold, and enterprising, he kindled the flame of rebellion among his countrymen, and, having resolved to shake off the Roman yoke, marched at the head of a numerous army into the territory of the Sequani, a people in alliance with Rome. This was 69 A.D. He hazarded a battle, and was defeated with great slaughter. His rash-levied numbers were either cut to pieces or put to flight. He himself escaped the general carnage. He fled for shelter to an obscure cottage; and, in order to propagate a report that he destroyed himself, set fire to his lurking-place.
SABINUS AND EPPONINA
By what artful stratagems he was able to conceal himself in caves and dens, and, by the assistance of the faithful Epponina, to prolong his life for nine years afterwards, cannot now be known from Tacitus. The account which the great historian promised has perished with the narrative of Vespasian’s reign. Plutarch relates the story as a proof of conjugal fidelity. From that writer the following particulars may be gleaned: Two faithful freedmen attended Sabinus to his cavern; one of them, Martialis by name, returned to Epponina with a feigned account of her husband’s death. His body, she was made to believe, was consumed in the flames. In the vehemence of her grief she gave credit to the story. In a few days she received intelligence by the same messenger that her husband was safe in his lurking-place. She continued during the rest of the day to act all the exteriors of grief, with joy at her heart, but suppressed with care. In the dead of night she visited Sabinus. Before the dawn of day she returned to her own house, and, for the space of seven months, repeated her clandestine visits, supplying her husband’s wants, and softening all his cares. At the end of that time she conceived hopes of obtaining a free pardon; and having disguised her husband in such a manner as to render a detection impossible, she accompanied him on a long and painful journey to Rome. Finding there that she had been deceived with visionary schemes, she marched back with Sabinus, and lived with him in his den for nine years longer.
In the year 79 A.D. they were both discovered, and in chains conveyed to Rome. Vespasian forgot his usual clemency. Sabinus was condemned, and hurried to execution. Epponina was determined not to survive her husband. She changed her supplicating tone, and, with a spirit unconquered even in ruin, addressed Vespasian: “Death,” she said, “has no terror for me. I have lived happier under ground, than you upon your throne. Bid your assassins strike their blow; with joy I leave a world in which you can play the tyrant.”
She was ordered for execution. Plutarch concludes with saying that during Vespasian’s reign there was nothing to match the horror of this atrocious deed; for which the vengeance of the gods fell upon Vespasian, and, in a short time after, wrought the extirpation of his whole family.
THE CHARACTER AND END OF VESPASIAN
[69-79 A.D.]
These, however, would seem to have been altogether exceptional instances of cruelty. Anecdotes illustrating the opposite character are not wanting. Thus: He caused the daughter of Vitellius, his avowed enemy, to be married into a noble family; and he himself provided her a suitable fortune. One of Nero’s servants coming to entreat pardon for having once rudely thrust him out of the palace, and insulting him when in office, Vespasian only took his revenge by serving him just in the same manner. When any plots or conspiracies were formed against him, he disdained to punish the guilty, saying that they deserved rather his contempt for their ignorance than his resentment, as they seemed to envy him a dignity of which he daily experienced the uneasiness. When he was seriously advised to beware of Mettius Pomposianus, against whom there was strong cause of suspicion, he raised him to the dignity of consul, adding that the time would come when he must be sensible of so great a benefit.
His liberality in the encouragement of arts and learning was not less than his clemency. He settled a constant salary of a hundred thousand sesterces upon the teachers of rhetoric. He was particularly favourable to Josephus, the Jewish historian. Quintilian, the orator, and Pliny, the naturalist, flourished in his reign, and were highly esteemed by him. He was no less an encourager of all other excellencies in art, and invited the greatest masters and artificers from all parts of the world, making them considerable presents as he found occasion.