SOURCE: Spalding Dobson, Elizabeth. “Pliny the Younger's Depiction of Women.” The Classical Bulletin 58, no. 6 (April 1982): 81-85.

[In the following essay, Spalding Dobson examines Pliny's letters, focusing specifically on his portraits of intelligent, virtuous, and heroic upper-class Roman women, noting the uniqueness of these characterizations in comparison with female characterizations by Pliny's contemporaries.]

A study of Pliny the Younger's letters to and about women provides some interesting cultural insights into the position of the aristocratic woman of Rome and its environs in the early second century A.D. At the same time, the reader gains insight into Pliny's own attitude toward these women. In view of the generally optimistic tone of Pliny's correspondence, it is not very surprising to find that the letters present a flattering and quite sympathetic view of women as his spiritual and moral equals.

Too frequently, portraits of the upper-class Roman woman of the first and second centuries A.D. emphasize the notorious and sensational. The lascivious Messalinda and the ruthless Agrippina have been immortalized in Tacitus's Annals. Juvenal's Satire 6 is a diatribe against the women of his time, from the merely irritating to the truly repulsive. The intellectual and the adulteress suffer equal condemnation. As to marriage, Juvenal advises: “If you are simply devoted to one alone, bend your neck, / Bow to the yoke; no lover finds mercy in any woman.”¹

In contrast to his misogynistic contemporaries, Pliny offers a gallery of virtuous women. Discussion of the women in Pliny has usually been confined to the heroic Arria and his own dutiful wife, Calpurnia. Yet at least 57 of the 368 letters contain some reference to women.² Of these, only three (2.4, 6.31, 8.10) could be deemed uncomplimentary. It would not be possible to present all these letters in a short study; therefore, discussion will be confined to only some illustrative letters.

Ingrained social attitudes such as the equation of the virtuous woman with the married woman and acceptance of the inferior legal status of women were tempered in Pliny by his respect for the doctrines of Stoicism, particularly the teachings of Gaius Musonius Rufus for whom Pliny openly expresses his admiration. Although Stoics generally regarded passion as a disease, Musonius Rufus praised the marriage which brings with it love and sympathy, the complete unselfish union of interests.³ He championed the spiritual, moral and intellectual equality of men and women. Education, especially in philosophy, will enable women to act with “excellence of disposition and nobility of character; for philosophy is the practice of nobility, and nothing else but that.”⁴ These are the qualities which Pliny, too, praises in women. The influence of Stoicism is also apparent in Pliny's use of the morally uplifting lesson, or exemplum: “Not only is it always a pleasure to hear something new, but also through examples we study the art of living” (8.18.12). Heroic women are the subjects of several such exempla.

Thanks to Pliny's philosophical inclinations and in spite of his conventional outlook, memorable women appear throughout his correspondence: women of outstanding virtue, heroic women, and ordinary matrons struggling with the everyday problems of existence.

The virtuous woman is the married woman. Most frequently, Pliny praises her pietas. For the Roman matron, pietas is devotion to husband and family. Pliny's own wife, Calpurnia, embodies this quality. Pliny writes to her aunt Calpurnia Hispulla (who herself earns the epithet pietatis exemplum from him), informing her of his satisfaction with his young bride. Calpurnia shows her devotion by her interest in his work and his pastimes, and even by setting his verses to music. Pliny concludes: “All this gives me the highest reason to hope that our mutual happiness will last forever and go on increasing day by day” (4.19). Nor did Calpurnia's pietas encompass only her husband. In Pliny's last letter to Trajan, we hear of Calpurnia traveling home alone to Comum from Bithynia after receiving news of her grandfather's death (10.120).

In a letter to Rosianus Geminus, Pliny mourns the death of the devoted wife of Macrinus: “Our friend Macrinus has had a terrible blow; he has lost his wife, one who would have been exemplary even in former times, after they had lived together for thirty-nine years without quarrel or misunderstanding. She always treated her husband with the greatest respect, while deserving the highest regard herself” (8.5.1). In fact, Pliny is extremely worried about his grieving friend, which supports the impression that this unnamed matron was not merely a demeaned slave, but a beloved companion.

Another devoted wife receiving praise is the spouse of Domitius Tullus, who married despite the censure of family and friends. “Crippled and deformed in every limb,” Tullus is cared for by his wife whom Pliny calls “uxor optima et patientissima.” In fact, Tullus lived as long as he did chiefly because of his wife's devotion, as Pliny reminds us: “Yet he went on living and kept his will to live helped chiefly by his wife, whose devoted care turned the former criticism of her marriage into a tribute of admiration” (8.18).

Even Ummidia Quadratilla, in spite of her decadent lifestyle, merits Pliny's respect. Although she did not lead a particularly virtuous life—she had a penchant for gambling and the theater—she insisted that her grandson avoid frivolous pastimes. When she died at age seventy-eight, Pliny acknowledged: “It is a joy to witness the family affection shown by the deceased and the honor done to an excellent young man” (7.24).

Another quality in women Pliny frequently praises is intelligence. Certainly, some of the Roman ladies of this era achieved more than functional literacy. Juvenal's tirade against women who ventured to discuss poetry, philosophy, or the fine points of grammar gives evidence to this (Sat. 6.434-56). Pliny, however, proudly writes of Calpurnia's acumen or “sharpness,” praising her interest in literature, and especially his own: “She keeps copies of my works to read again and again and even learn by heart” (4.19). During their separations, Calpurnia is a conscientious correspondent, and her letters must have been of some literary merit, for Pliny, the critic, takes pleasure in reading them over and over: “I, too, am always reading your letters, and returning to them again and again as if they were new to me” (6.7).

Pliny praises the accomplishments of the wife of Pompeius Saturnius, although he hesitates to admit that she actually excelled at his own pet genre: “He recently read me some letters which he said were written by his wife, but sounded to me like Plautus or Terence read in prose. Whether they are all really his wife's as he says, or his own (which he denies), one can only admire him either for what he writes or for the way he has cultivated and refined the taste of the girl he married” (1.16.6).

On the tragic death of Minicia Marcella, Pliny laments the termination of a blossoming intellect: “She loved her nurses, her attendants, and her teachers, each one for the service given to her; she applied herself intelligently to her books and was moderate and restrained in her play” (5.16.3). Her education, brief as it was, perhaps contributed to the “sheer force of will” which “neither the length of her illness nor fear of death could break …” (5.16.4). Apparently, this adolescent girl achieved that strength of character through education of which Musonius Rufus spoke.

Elsewhere, Pliny responds kindly to women who seek his advice about educating their children (3.3, 7.24.5). At least one of the women Pliny describes had sufficient intellectual energy to gather evidence for a court inquiry into her son's death (8.6.8). Such examples show that not only were some women in Pliny's day well-educated, but that there were men who appreciated their intellectual accomplishments.

Although devotion and intelligence are the qualities which Pliny most frequently mentions, there are others he praises. One is trustworthiness. This virtue was particularly important to the Roman of senatorial class, for women were apparently considered to be inclined toward extortion.⁵ Pliny himself relates the proceedings of one such extortion trial (3.9). Thus, when he describes the final illness of the senator Corellius Rufus, he notes that Corellius's wife is “omnis secreti capacissima” (1.12.7).

Other qualities that Pliny finds laudable in women are frugalitas (thrift), castitas (chastity), suavitas (sweetness), and gravitas (dignity).⁶ We may suppose that the women he calls virtuous exhibit some of all of these qualities. (See, for example, 3.1.5, 4.17, 4.21, 5.21.4).

Some of Pliny's women emerge as heroines, exemplifying virtue at the risk of their lives. Pliny gives us detailed accounts of three such women, among them Arria, whose devotion to her husband Paetus is astounding. She courageously conceals the death of their son from her ailing husband, choosing to grieve alone rather than hinder his convalescence. When Paetus was being returned to Rome on a prison ship for his role in a revolt against Claudius, Arria asked to be allowed to accompany him as his slave. Her request refused, she followed the galley across the Adriatic in a tiny, hired fishing smack. Determined to die with her husband once he had been sentenced, she proved her resolve by dashing her head against the wall so violently that she lost consciousness. Pliny bemoans the fact that these courageous deeds are less well known than her suicide which immortalized her remark: “Paete, non dolet” (3.16). In Arria, pietas extended to the sacrifice of her own life.

Fannia, the granddaughter of Arria, displayed heroism in more than one respect. Because of her devotion to her husband, she suffered exile three times. She risked further punishment by smuggling his diaries into exile with her. In addition to her courage, she possesses that sweetness of disposition that Pliny so admires. Thus, Pliny mourns her lingering death: “Will there be anyone now whom we can hold up as a model to our wives, from whose courage our own sex can also take example and whom we can admire as much as the heroines of history while she is still in our midst?” (7.19).

Pliny was no stranger to heroic women. His own mother displayed both her quiet courage and her devotion to her family during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. She refused to abandon her brother, the elder Pliny, who had gone to the aid of some friends. Finally, she begs her son to save himself: “Then my mother implored, entreated and commanded me to escape as best I could—a young man might escape whereas she was old and slow and could die in peace as long as she had not been the cause of my death too” (6.20.12).

Pliny's letters to his wife, Calpurnia, are loving expression of his affection for her. According to Andrew Sherwin-White, commentator on the letters, Pliny was the first Roman writer to apply the language of lovers to the marital relationship.⁷ André Maniet likewise believes that, although Pliny may have had his moments of insincerity, he had no ulterior motives for writing so lovingly to his wife. His purpose was to express his affection for her.⁸ Since Pliny is known to have admired the teachings of Musonius Rufus, it is not unlikely that he actually found and cultivated that ideal state of love and sympathy in marriage that the philosopher describes. Pliny's word choices clearly express his feelings: love—corpusculum, ardentissime, diligo, desiderium, accendor, me delectet, amor; pain at their separation—torqueat, desiderio tui tenear, aeger et maestus, tormentis, in miseria curisque solacium; concern for Calpurnia's health—“Indeed I should worry when you are away even if you were well, for there are always anxious moments without news of anyone one loves dearly” (6.4.3). Pliny lets us know that the pain of separation was mutual: “You say that you are feeling my absence very much, and your only comfort when I am not there is to hold my writings in your hand and often put them in my place by your side” (6.7.1). Such evidence as this makes it difficult to accept the judgment of some writers that the Roman man never admitted that the aim of marriage was personal happiness or common moral development.⁹ These are the very aims of which Pliny speaks in his letters to and about Calpurnia.

Several letters make it clear that Pliny had female friends whose company he must have enjoyed. Although only one letter is actually addressed to her, Pliny seems to have valued the friendship of Pompeia Celerina, the mother of his former wife, now deceased (1.4, 1.18.3, 6.10.1). Unfortunately, he also expresses an affectionate interest in her estates. In another letter, Pliny declares his affection for Corellia, the sister of Corellius Rufus, and sells her land at a very reasonable price (8.14). In naming his friends who suffered under Domitian, Pliny includes Gratilla, Arria the Younger, and Fannia (3.11.3). These examples help to prove that Pliny, for one, considered women worthy and capable of sustaining a relationship, not necessarily sexual or servile, with men.

In the courtroom, Pliny shows a sympathetic attitude toward women in case after case. He retells the sensational trial of the chief Vestal Virgin Cornelia, accused of breaking her vows. Although she was generally condemned, Pliny, at least, gives her the benefit of the doubt in writing, “Whether she was innocent or not, she certainly appeared to be so” (4.11.9).¹⁰ He takes the part of the disinherited daughter Attia Viriola in a highly publicized court case (6.33). During the extortion trial of Classicus, Pliny refrains from prosecuting his wife, whom he believed to be innocent, commenting: “I felt that the only just course was to refrain from pressing a charge against an innocent person; and I said so openly in many ways” (3.9.20). Various other letters show Pliny handling kindly the numerous legal problems of women (4.10, 5.1, 10.4).

Finally, Pliny generously gives his time and money to assist women with domestic problems, contributing a substantial sum to a young girl's dowry (6.32), promising a friend he will find a husband for her daughter (1.14), and donating a small farm as a pension to his nurse (6.3).

After examining so many letters favorable to the female, one may begin to wonder whether Pliny ever had an unkind word for her. Three letters especially show that Pliny's view of the opposite sex was not entirely uncritical. Actually, these three letters may be seen as additional proof of Pliny's sincerity as a correspondent. If his letters were uniformly cheery, one might begin to suspect a lack of honesty.

First Pliny writes to Cornelianus of Galitta's adultery trial which he attended. The punishment for adultery was severe. Under the “Lex Iulia de Adulteriis,” a convicted woman forfeited half her dowry, one-third of her property, and was banished to an island. If her husband refused to prosecute, he was liable for punishment as a procurer. Yet even though Galitta's own husband is reluctant to prosecute her, Pliny feels no sympathy for the woman and thus comments that “it was essential that the woman would be convicted, however unwilling her accusor. She was duly found guilty and sentenced under the Julian law” (6.31.6). Apparently only virtuous women merited Pliny's compassion.

In a letter to Calvinia, Pliny abandons his usual tact and bluntly reminds the woman of her indebtedness to him (2.4). This lack of delicacy may be attributed to the fact that Calvinia, too, has behaved in a dishonorable manner—by not repaying a loan. There remains to be explained the uncharacteristically cold letter addressed to Calpurnius Fabatus concerning his granddaughter Calpurnia's miscarriage (8.10). First, one must consider the recipient. Calpurnius Fabatus must have been a fairly old man, a retired equestrian politician.¹¹ With such a background, one might imagine him a rather conservative gentleman. If so, he might not be inclined to view women as sympathetically as the men of Pliny's generation. And so Pliny explains away his personal tragedy as the result of a young girl's foolishness in saying that “She has had a severe lesson and paid for her mistake by seriously endangering her life” (8.10.1,2). Perhaps this explanation was a true reflection of Pliny's initial disappointment, but after some reflection, he produced the more tender letter to his wife's aunt. This letter directly follows the one to Fabatus, and expresses much greater compassion for Calpurnia: “The danger was indeed grave—I hope I may safely say so now—through no fault of her own, but perhaps of her youth. Hence her miscarriage, a sad proof of unsuspected pregnancy” (8.11.2).

In summary, if we accept Pliny's reliability as a reporter and his sincerity as a writer, then his letters form a pleasant picture of the upper class Roman woman of this era. The letters provide a valuable contrast to the unflattering portraits drawn by such contemporaries as Juvenal and Tacitus. The women Pliny writes of are devoted wives and family members. He depicts them as morally and intellectually equal to men and capable of the same heroism. Pliny's letters show that there was indeed warmth and love, not only in the Roman marriage, but in friendships between men and women.

It is tempting, but rash, to accuse Roman men of oppressing women. Pliny's letters illustrate the impossibility of a fair comparison between women's rights in the second and twentieth centuries. Pliny is no opinionated bigot who presumes to dictate the proper role and attitude for the female, as did Cato, for example. Nor is he a feminist who advocates equal rights and responsibilities for both sexes. In Rome under Trajan's rule, he is a humane gentleman who perceives no inferiority of character or intellect in women. His letters treat people as people, and he does not question the social or economic distinctions which exist between them. The virtuous woman in Pliny would probably not be displeased to lie beneath this well-known epitaph of a much earlier era:

… she loved her husband in her heart. She bore two sons, one of whom she left on earth, the other beneath it. She was pleasant to talk with and she walked with grace. She kept the house and worked in wool. That is all. You may go.¹²

Notes

1. Juvenal, Satires, tr. Rolfe Humphries (Bloomington 1958) 71.

2. All references to Pliny's Letters are based on the following text and will hereafter be cited in the text by book, number, and section where appropriate. G. Caecilius Secundus Plinius, Letters and Panegyricus, tr. Betty Radice, Loeb Library (Cambridge 1969). E. S. Stout's critical edition Epistulae (Bloomington 1962) was also consulted. A complete listing of letters referring to women follows: Book 1: 4, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16; Book 2: 4, 20; Book 3: 1, 3, 9, 10, 11, 16; Book 4: 2, 10, 11, 17, 19, 21; Book 5: 1, 16, 21; Book 6: 3, 4, 7, 10, 12, 16, 20, 24, 26, 31, 32, 33, 34; Book 9: 13, 36; Book 10: 4, 5, 6, 11, 51, 96, 120. See also Panegyricus 83 and 34.

3. Martin P. Charlesworth, Five Men: Character Studies from the Roman Empire (Cambridge 1936) 40-41.

4. Ibid. 44.

5. Andrew Sherwin-White, Letters of Pliny (Oxford 1966) 234-35.

6. 4.19.2. For a detailed discussion of these and other qualities Pliny praises in women, see André Maniet, “Pline le Jeuane et Calpurnie” L'Antiquité Classique 35(1966) 149-85.

7. Andrew Sherwin-White, “Pliny: The Man and His Letters” Greece and Rome 16 (1969) 79.

8. Maniet, op. cit. 174-84.

9. See for example Gugliemo Ferrero, The Women of the Caesars (New York 1911) 11. Or M. I. Finley, “The Silent Women of Rome” Horizon 7 (1965) 60-64.

10. For a different opinion of her guilt, see Suetonius, Domitian 8.4.

11. Sherwin-White, Letters, 742.

12. Mary K. Lekkowitz and Maureen Fant, Women in Greece and Rome (Toronto 1977) 104.