Domitius Tullus was an incredibly wealthy Roman who possessed great quantities of land, money, and valuable artworks around the time of the 1st and 2nd centuries. During his lifetime, he had a monstrous reputation (made worse by an even more monstrous physical appearance) and was known for being guarded with his emotions, rarely showing public affection for his relatives or friends. He was in no way miserly, as he bought new properties in his lifetime and added statuary gardens to his estates, but his lavish spending was seen as self-serving and in no way altruistic. He seemed to have been a skilled businessman and estate manager, for he did not squander his wealth, but rather amassed a giant horde of coins, land, and valuable assets to hand down to his heirs. Yet, the gossipers in Rome could only wonder how the disagreeable old man would ill-treat his relatives in his last will and testament upon the inevitable day that he died.
Domitius Tullus’ family life was peculiar, to say the least, starting with his own upbringing. Tullus, and his brother Lucanus, were the sons of an unnamed landowner who fell out of favor and influence in Rome. In the midst of their father’s legal woes, the brothers were adopted by the immensely wealthy Domitius Afer, who ironically had been the leading harasser of Tullus’ and Lucanus’ biological father. Tullus and Lucanus jointly inherited properties and wealth from both their adopted and biological fathers. Meanwhile, Lucanus married a daughter of wealthy Curtilius Mancia, and this daughter was evidently her father’s heir. Lucanus and his wife had a daughter together, but not too long after the birth, Lucanus and his father-in-law became embroiled in a bitter feud. What happened is unclear—perhaps Curtilius Mancia’s daughter died, or maybe he disowned his own daughter to cut Lucanus out of the inheritance. Whatever the case, Curtilius Mancia did not want Lucanus to control the family inheritance. In the familial drama that ensued, Lucanus’ daughter was removed from her father’s custody, and Curtilius Mancia (her grandfather) made her his heir. At that time, however, Lucanus’ brother, Domitius Tullus swooped in and adopted his niece, Lucanus’ daughter. Tullus restored his brother’s access to his daughter, but Lucanus ultimately died an early death, leaving his share of the Domitius fortune to Tullus.
After the death of his brother, Tullus gained control over the entire Domitius family fortune, and due to his adoption of his niece, Tullus also stood as guardian over Curtilius Mancia’s properties. Additionally, Domitius Tullus had married a highborn aristocrat widow with children from a previous marriage. She, no doubt, brought Tullus further wealth and profitable connections. Tullus was atop this financial empire when his health took a terrible and repulsive plummet for the worse. What exactly was wrong with him is unknown, but the illness deformed his limbs and severely impacted his mobility. He became chronically bedridden, and in the end, fell to worsening states of infirmity. Pliny the Younger (c. 61/62-113), Tullus’ contemporary, spared no detail in vividly describing the man’s terrible condition. In addition to labeling him an “object of disgust,” Pliny went on to write: “Crippled and deformed in every limb, he could only enjoy his vast wealth by contemplating it and could not even turn in bed without assistance. He also had to have his teeth cleaned and brushed for him—a squalid and pitiful detail…” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 8.18).
Tullus was not able to father any children of his own before his ailing health left him incapacitated. He did not hold this against his wife, but instead clung to her more closely during his time of failing health. His wife, for her part, steadfastly supported her infirm spouse, earning equal admiration and sympathy from a Roman public that contrastingly looked upon Domitius Tullus with suspicion and disgust.
When Tullus inevitably died, the public wondered what the seemingly uncharitable, selfish and inhospitable old man would do with his wealth. Did he allocate his money to pay for a lavish funerary scheme with monuments and gladiator games to honor himself? Who did he choose as his heir—his wife and her children from a previous marriage, or his adopted daughter and her family? Gossipers conversed throughout Rome about which branch of the family, if any, would be enriched and which relatives would be spurned in the inheritance. Additionally, even though Tullus did not officially adopt any more children into his family, other figures had worked their way into the ailing man’s life, and rumor mills churned out theories about which of these mysterious fellows might benefit from unorthodox bequeathments. The aforementioned figure, Pliny the Younger, listened and partook in the gossip eagerly, for he was a lawyer who specialized in wills and finances.
When Domitius Tullus’ last will and testament became public, Pliny and his fellow gossipers were shocked. Instead of megalomaniac funerary projects or ruthless disinheritances, Tullus’ will turned out to be much more generous and denoting of affection than anyone had expected. According to Pliny the Younger, Domitius Tullus chose his niece (and adopted daughter) as his primary heir. On this, Pliny wrote, “Domitius Tullus has proved himself to be much better in death than life. Although he had encouraged legacy hunters, he left as heiress the daughter he shared with his brother (he had adopted his brother’s child)” (Letters, 8.18). Although his primary heir was his adopted daughter, he did not neglect his surviving wife’s wellbeing. She was likely the second biggest beneficiary of his will, receiving country estates and a sizable allotment of funds. Pliny wrote, “So this will is all the more creditable for being dictated by family affection, honesty, and feelings of shame; and in it Tullus acknowledges his obligations to all his relatives in return for their services to him, as he does to the excellent wife who had borne with him so long. She has inherited his beautiful country houses and a large sum of money, and deserved all the more from her husband for having been so severely criticized for marrying him” (Letters, 8.18). Domitius Tullus also made sure not to forget his adopted grandchildren and greatgrandchildren in his will. Pliny stated, “He also left a great many welcome legacies to his grandsons and to his great-granddaughter; in fact, the whole will is ample proof of his affection for his family, and so all the more unexpected” (Letters, 8.18). All in all, it was a generous, reasonable, and positive last will, accompanied by loving and compassionate words for his family from the late patriarch of the family.
Given the revelations of the last will and testament, Pliny and the other gossipers were forced to reevaluate their perception of infamous Domitius Tullus. Even if he had been a disagreeable and dislikable grouch to Romans outside of his family, onlookers had to acknowledge there might have been another kinder, gentler and loving side to the grumpy old man that was only seen by his family. Whatever the case, Pliny and other critics conceded that Domitius Tullus left behind a legacy of good will in his last testament.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Marble portrait of a man from a Roman funerary relief, dated 1st century BCE, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the MET).
Sources:
- The Letters of Pliny the Younger, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1963, 1969.
