Appius and Verginia

Appius Claudius, presiding, in the centre; his stooge Marcus Claudius on the left; Verginius slaying Verginia on the right

[Image source: https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/libertatis-virginia-killed-by-her-father-to-protect-her-from-appius-claudius-221779. An early sixteenth-century painting in Campion Hall, University of Oxford. It has been ascribed to the circle of Bramantino or Defendente Ferrari.]




The early books of Livy tell the thrilling tale of the early history of Rome: the most formative account, perhaps aside from the Old Testament, of how a nation starts.


It is an overwhelmingly male-dominated picture, but there are three early stories in which women are prominent, always as valuable objects in a man's world. Two I've touched on before, the rape of the Sabine women and the rape of Lucretia.


The third is the story of Appius and Verginia. In later European literature this became detached, e.g. in Jean de Meung and in Chaucer's Physician's Tale (one of those minor Canterbury Tales you tend to forget).  Shakespeare refers to the story, e.g. when Titus Andronicus regetfully slays his daughter or when Desdemona asks for a little time before being strangled. In these later renderings, Verginius' slaying of his innocent daughter has become a type of honour-killing, not indeed to be imitated but to be admired.


But Livy's original story is more complex because it places the whole episode within the political story of the second Decemvirate; ultimately, it's about what happens to a society that doesn't have a right of appeal. The wider context makes a difference. Livy and his readers couldn't forget that Appius, more than anyone, had been responsible for the ten tables, the foundation of Roman law. But now power had gone to his head. The centurion Verginius and ex-tribune Icilius (Verginia's betrothed) are grossly wronged by Appius' despicable abuse of judicial power, but they are also, in Livy's eyes, plebeian  firebrands who are dangerous to the body politic. When Appius refers to typical tribune-like troublemaking, we know he's abusing this argument to serve his own ends, but we've learnt to know the kind of thing he means.  Livy, let's face it,  doesn't often find himself on the popular side.  And in a political context, if our first reaction to a terrible event is about deciding who's blameless and who's most to blame, the deeper question comes to be about how society can recover from the evil. So when with profound irony Appius himself resorts to saying "I appeal!", and is rejected by the new tribunes (Verginius and Icilius among them), the story registers disquiet about the tribunes themselves becoming tyrants: will justified revenge turn out to be as bad as the original crime, or will Rome manage to negotiate the rocky road back to the rule of law?




Amid all this male debate the figure of Verginia herself is only fleetingly seen, but here are a few sentences:




*




...There was a girl of humble birth that Appius wished to debauch; her father Lucius Verginius, who was serving with distinction on Algidus as a centurion, was a man with an excellent record in both military and civilian life, and his wife and children had been trained in the same high principles as himself. He had betrothed his daughter to an ex-tribune named Lucius Icilius, a keen and proven champion of the popular cause. This, then, was the girl -- at that time a beautiful young woman -- who was the object of Appius' passion. His attempts to seduce her with money and promises failed, so when he found her modesty proof against every kind of assault, he had recourse to a method of compulsion such as only a heartless tyrant could devise. Taking advantage of her father's absence on service, he instructed a dependant of his own, named Marcus Claudius, to claim the girl as his slave and to maintain the claim against any demands which might be made for her liberty. One morning, therefore, when she was entering the Forum to attend the school, Claudius -- the decemvir's pimp -- laid hands on her, and, asserting that she, like her mother before her, was his slave, told her to follow him, and threatened to take her by force if she refused. The poor girl was dumb with fright, but her nurse shouted for help and a crowd quickly gathered.... (pp. 215-16)


[Appius ruled that]... Anyone was entitled to bring an action, and in other cases in which people were claimed as free, the demand was legal; but in the present case, where the girl was subject to her father, there was nobody else to whom the master could surrender custody, and for that reason he gave judgment that the father should be sent for and that meanwhile the claimant -- Claudius -- should not relinquish his right but should take charge of the girl and promise to produce her in court when the person said to be her father arrived in Rome. The judgement was patently unjust, but though there was plenty of muttering and indignation nobody ventured to speak openly against it... (pp. 216 -17)


At dawn next day the excitement in the city reached a new height. Verginius entered the Forum leading his daughter by the hand -- he in mourning, she in rags. ... (pp.218-9)


...Appius gave judgement for the plaintiff and declared Verginia to be his slave. This monstrous decision was received with stupefaction, and for several minutes no-one uttered a word. Presently Claudius began to push his way through the group of women to where Verginia was standing -- to claim his property. The women burst into tears, and suddenly Verginius shook his fist at Appius and called out: "I betrothed my daughter to Icilius, not to you -- I meant her for a marriage-bed, not for a brothel..." (p. 219)


Verginius looked around for help, but there was none. In a moment his mind was made up: "Appius," he cried, "if I spoke too harshly, a father's heart was to blame, and I ask your pardon. This whole business bewilders me -- let me question the nurse here, in my child's presence; then, if I find I am not her father, I shall understand and be able to go more calmly." Permission was granted, and he took Verginia and her nurse over to the shops by the shrine of Cloacina -- the new shops, as they are called today.  Then he snatched a knife from a butcher, and crying: "There is only one way, my child, to make you free," he stabbed her to the heart. Then, looking behind him at the tribunal, "Appius," he said, "may the curse of this blood rest on your head forever!" .. (p. 220)


Verginius caused a greater upheaval in the army even than he had done in Rome. His arrival was immensely impressive: long before he reached the camp he could be seen because of the crowd of some four hundred citizens who accompanied him out of sympathy for his lacerated feelings; his naked weapon was still in his hand, and his clothes were covered with blood. ... (p. 221)


Of the two appeals for pity, that of Verginius was felt to be more just. It was the end of all hope for Appius: he refused to face his trial, and killed himself.   ... (p. 232)


Marcus Claudius, the man who had claimed Verginia, was prosecuted and condemned, but was spared the extreme penalty at the request of Verginius himself and went into exile at Tibur. Thus not a single man who had any share in the guilt of Verginia's death remained, and her ghost, which so long had wandered from house to house in search of satisfaction, found rest at last.  (p. 233)




Livy, 3.44 - 3.59, trans. Aubrey de Selincourt (The Early History of Rome)






*


And whan this worthy knyght Virginius
Thurgh sentence of this justice Apius
Moste by force his deere doghter yiven
Unto the juge, in lecherie to lyven,
He gooth hym hoom, and sette him in his halle,
And leet anon his deere doghter calle,
And with a face deed as asshen colde
Upon his humble face he gan biholde,
With fadres pitee stikynge thurgh his herte,
Al wolde he from his purpos nat converte.


"Doghter," quod he, "Virginia, by thy name,
Ther been two weyes, outher deeth or shame,
That thou most suffre; allas, that I was bore!
For nevere thou deservedest wherfore
To dyen with a swerd or with a knyf...."


(Chaucer, Physician's Tale, ll. 203 - 217)








*


There are two surviving Appius and Virginia plays from around Shakespeare's time, an early one (1576) by "RB" and a late one probably mostly by John Webster (date disputed, perhaps late 1620s). There's an interesting PDF article by Dena Goldberg about both plays (I'm having difficulty giving the link, but if you do a Google search you'll find it).  The text of the Webster play is also available on-line and it looks well worth a read. In it he returns the well-worn story to the detail of Livy, though in one respect he changes it: his Appius is conceived as an upstart commoner on whom great power has been bestowed (somewhat in the Duke of Buckingham mould...); whereas Livy's Appius was an uncompromising aristocrat, a leading light of the senatorial families.












Appius.      See, see, how evidently Truth appears.
                  Receive her Clodius.
Virginius. Thus I surrender her into the Court
Kills her.
                 of all the Gods. And see proud Appius see,
                 although not justly, I have made her free,
                 And if thy Lust with this Act be not fed,
                 bury her in thy bowels, now she's dead.
Omnes.     O horrid act!