Uncle John’s Presents Mom’s Bathtub Reader (13 page)

Did Livia really poison her son’s rivals to the throne?

O
h, the glory that was Rome! Those ancient marble palaces, statues, arches, and baths; the feasts and festivities—they were to die for! Unfortunately, plenty of people did—die, that is. Especially if they crossed the ambitions of regal first lady Livia. Did Livia kill off her husband and her step-grandchildren so that her son Tiberius would rule the Roman Empire? Was she one of history’s most murderous and manipulative moms? Or was powerful Livia the victim of bad press?

Born in 58 BC into a noble Roman family, beautiful Livia Drusilla was married with one son, Tiberius, and another on the way. She was fortunate enough to strike the fancy of a very powerful but unhappily married man, Octavian, the adopted son and heir of Julius Caesar, who wanted her for his bride. Livia’s husband was “persuaded” to divorce her. Once Octavian divorced his first wife, the scandalous pair was married in 38 BC. Livia later gave birth to her second son, Drusus, after her marriage to Octavian.

Octavian took power and became emperor in 27 BC when the Roman senate proclaimed him Augustus Caesar, ruler of the empire and a divine descendant of the gods of
Rome. Augustus’s reign lasted 45 years and Livia was his first lady throughout. Unfortunately, their marriage never produced any children, but the union survived.

Livia was an ideal politician’s wife. She sponsored charities, dedicated buildings, and presented a public image of the humble wife and mother. Actually, Augustus relied on Livia to help him in affairs of state. She even wielded his personal seal, signing orders for him when he was away. Livia had so much power at home, some said that although Augustus ruled Rome, Livia ruled Augustus.

Though Livia publicly helped Augustus promote family values, privately she may have been poisoning the family—her husband’s family, that is. Livia wanted to put her son Tiberius on the throne, but Augustus kept picking males from his own line to rule when he was gone. Augustus may have listened to Livia’s advice, but when it came to succession, he certainly had his own ideas.

First, Augustus picked his nephew and stepson, Marcellus, to succeed him. Then, Marcellus mysteriously died. So his widow Julia married again, this time to Agrippa. The pair had two sons, Gaius and Lucius, that Augustus then named as his heirs. But strangely enough, each of those young men fell ill and died too. It seemed that being first in line for the throne was a dangerous place to be, especially if you stood in front of Livia’s son. Every time Augustus named an heir who was not Tiberius, he seemed to keel over prematurely. Was Livia lucky or what?

Seems that Rome was no different from modern times when it comes to conspiracy theories. Romans and other historians from classic times onward declared that Livia poisoned off Augustus’s heirs until he was forced to tap
Tiberius to be the next emperor. They even go so far as to claim that after Tiberius’s appointment as heir, Livia killed Augustus himself with poisoned figs. Augustus did mysteriously become ill and was called to that great marble palace in the sky.

Everyone seemed to bite the Roman dust except Livia and her son. Hmm. Mighty suspicious.

Only lately have some historians said that Livia got a bum rap and was no murderess. They say that the biographers in ancient times blamed Livia for all those deaths because she was such a powerful woman and much resented by all those men, especially her own son Tiberius.

However she got it, Livia enjoyed the authority that came her way when Tiberius came to power, but her son didn’t necessarily enjoy it. Tiberius, who by this time was 46, resented her interference and did not welcome her help in the way Augustus had. Rumor has it that he left Rome and moved to Capri to get away from her. He visited her once in the last three years of her life, and only for an hour or two then. Tiberius’s resentment even lasted beyond the grave. After Livia’s death, he refused to honor her will or attend her funeral.

But not everyone had as bad an opinion of Livia as her son. When she died at age 86, the Roman senate dedicated an arch to her, honoring her “acts of kindness and generosity.” It was the first and last time ancient Rome gave that honor to a woman.

It’s only natural. Just ask Honest Abe.

T
hanks to fairy tales, we’ve all heard of the wicked stepmother. But how about the wonderful step-mother or blessed stepmother? Unfamiliar as those phrases sound, they made perfect sense to Abraham Lincoln. Few people realize that as far as mothers of presidents go, one of the most important First Mothers in American history was in fact First Stepmother Sarah Bush Lincoln. Without her loving assistance, one of the country’s greatest presidents might never have made it into politics—he might not have even survived.

A celebrity in life and death, Lincoln’s life has been thoroughly examined by historians. Scholars have worked harder than the
National Enquirer
to dig up Honest Abe’s secrets and scandals. There are wrangles over Abe’s true parentage, whether or not he was faithful to his wife, and even whether or not he had a boyfriend! But no one argues about one vital fact in Lincoln’s bio. The future president adored his stepmother, Sarah Bush Lincoln, and she was a huge factor in his success.

In 1818, when Abe was nine years old and his sister Sarah was 11, the Lincoln family lived in tough frontier conditions in a log cabin in the southern Indiana woods near a community called Pigeon Creek. The Lincolns’ window
less cabin had a dirt floor and no door so the winter wind could whistle right on through. But a tough life turned unbearable when Abe’s hardworking mother, Nancy, fell ill and died.

While young Abe and his sister, Sarah, grieved for their mother, they labored harder than ever. The family struggled to put food on the table and keep the cabin warm. But Thomas knew that his motherless family was floundering, so he returned to Kentucky to find a wife and left the children under the care of their 18-year-old cousin, Dennis—hardly the best supervision.

On his quest for a wife, Thomas Lincoln sought out an old flame, the widow Sarah “Sally” Bush Johnston. Lincoln and Sarah had known each other in Elizabethtown, Kentucky, but Sarah had married another man. Now Thomas found her a widow, free to marry her old beau.

There was no time for holding hands or candlelight dinners. In a quick, businesslike arrangement, Thomas paid Sarah’s debts and they were married the following day. Thomas, Sarah, and her three children packed up and headed for Indiana.

Meanwhile, back in the cabin, it had been nearly six months since Thomas left. Ragged, filthy, and hungry, his abandoned children were sure they were orphans. Abe struggled to comfort his sister with presents like a baby raccoon and a turtle, but secretly he feared they would soon die. Imagine his feelings when his father returned with a
wagon full of people, including three playmates, Elizabeth, Matilda, and John, and a stepmother who hugged Abe lovingly, then energetically set about making sure he was well cared for.

Sarah immediately bathed the Lincoln children. She mended their clothes and as their cousin Dennis later said, made them “look human.” Once the children were clean and fed, she got to work on the house, eventually insisting that the Lincoln cabin be fitted up with a wooden floor, a window, and a real door that opened and, most importantly, shut. A loft bedroom was made for Abe, Dennis, and John, while the girls and their parents slept downstairs.

Abe’s new stepmother brought treasures with her. A table and chairs replaced the tree stumps that had provided seating. Abe and little Sarah learned to use real knives and forks and spoons. Best of all, their lumpy cornhusk mattresses were replaced with feather beds.

But most important of all, Sarah brought books to Pigeon Creek—biographies of Ben Franklin and George Washington and fiction such as
Robinson Crusoe, The Pilgrim’s Progress
, and
Aesop’s Fables
. Abe had always had a hunger for learning and he read the books eagerly. Sarah’s books, along with the Bible, provided his curriculum, since formal schooling on the frontier was unpredictable.

Abe much preferred reading and studying to splitting logs or working in the fields. This strained his relationship with his father. Thomas didn’t see much value in book learning when there were so many farm chores that needed doing just to survive. It was Sarah who valued Abe’s sensitivity and intelligence and who encouraged the
boy to read, do arithmetic, and write poetry. Her stepson, starved for affection and understanding, blossomed under the attentions of the woman he called “mother.”

With Sarah’s help, a lonely, unhappy boy grew into a clever, self-confident man, determined to become a success in the greater world. To the Lincoln children, Sarah brought comfort and stability. More important, she gave them love and support. Neighbors said that she managed her blended family well, treating all the children impartially. But years later, Sarah admitted to an interviewer that she secretly had a favorite. “Abe was a good boy,” she said, “the best boy I ever saw. I never gave him a cross word in all my life. His mind and mine . . . seemed to move in the same channel.”

Abraham Lincoln always revered Sarah. He made sure that after his father’s death she received 40 acres to live on as long as she lived. Proud Sarah lived to see her “good boy” become the president who held the Union together and ended slavery.

Today a grateful nation still honors the president, who, despite the hatreds formed in a raging civil war, called for “malice toward none and charity for all.” Along with his eloquence and courage, Abraham Lincoln is beloved for qualities of kindness, tolerance, and forgiveness—qualities he learned at the knee of his stepmother.