The phrase “No Taxation without Representation” is famous as the creed of the American colonies before the Revolution. It’s also famous for still being the current tagline on the license plates for Washington, DC, but we’re going to ignore all of that and focus on a much older use of the idea.

Of course most civilizations would have laughed at the idea. They say nothing is certain except death and taxes, and representation is definitely not certain. In world history, it’s not even very likely. Taxes, on the other hand, you can count on. But many taxes throughout history have been paid in goods. Money wasn’t always widely circulating. Taxes are at least as old as 3000 BCE, when the Egyptian pharaohs participated in the Shemsu Hor or Egyptian Cattle Count, where they traveled around the countryside assessing the farmer’s crops and taking a cut.

And if you haven’t even got goods to involuntarily donate to your country, you do have 365 days in a year. Many societies may not have required goods per se but saw no reason why you can’t break your back over the state’s fields for at least some of those days. And it wasn’t just men doing the backbreaking. Women did plenty of laboring.

But we’re going to ignore all of that too and talk about a time when money was widely circulating and taxes were paid in actual money. Let me set the scene.

The year is 42 BCE, and we are in Rome. If you remember episode 2.2 on Cleopatra, you may remember that Rome is theoretically a republic, but moving fast towards empire. Julius Caesar was emperor in all but name, but he’s dead, stabbed in the back on the senate floor. Cleopatra has left the city and returned to her native Egypt. The empire is currently being controlled by the Second Triumvirate, by which we mean Mark Antony (Caesar’s friend), Octavian (Caesar’s adopted son and heir), and Lepidus (Caesar’s military ally). You’ll notice a significant absence of any Caesar-opponents in the Triumvirate, and that is by design. Brutus, Cassius, and their anti-Caesar faction is on the run, but not yet defeated, which means civil war.

Unfortunately for the triumvirate, war is expensive and the treasury is empty, skint, zip, not a brass farthing. In order to deal with this, the Triumvirate decide on proscription, which is a charming little governing technique whereby you look around for people you don’t like, accuse them of treason, sentence them to death, and confiscate their property. All in the service of the Republic, naturally.

So the Triumvirate set about it. Appian of Alexandria writes that “as soon as the triumvirs were by themselves they joined in making a list of those who were to be put to death. They put on the list those whom they suspected because of their power, and also their personal enemies, and they exchanged their own relatives and friends with each other for death, both then and later. For they made additions to the catalogue from time to time, in some cases on the ground of enmity, in others for a grudge merely, or because their victims were friends of their enemies or enemies of their friends, or on account of their wealth, for the triumvirs needed a great deal of money to carry on the war.”

Appian has a quite a bit to say about the general panic caused by this tactic and all the lamentations, fleeing, and backstabbing it caused. But when it came to the point, there was a little problem even for the triumvirs because though they had confiscated many lands and houses, there were (as Appian continues) “not many buyers of their lands, since some were ashamed to add to the burden of the unfortunate. Others thought that such property would bring them bad luck, or that it would not be at all safe for them to be seen with gold and silver in their possession, or that, as they were not free from danger with their present holdings, it would be an additional risk to increase them. Only the boldest spirits came forward and purchased at the lowest prices, because they were the only buyers. Thus it came to pass that the triumvirs, who had hoped to realize a sufficient sum for their preparations for the war, were still short by 200,000,000 drachmas.”

Oh, the poor dears. It is hard when you don’t have enough money for all your evil plots, isn’t it?

The Triumvirs needed a new plan and they found one. A new edict was issued that said the 1400 richest women in Rome must submit a valuation of the property and the triumvirs would inform them of how much of it they needed to turn over to support the war effort, patriotism, and glory, and all that. And if any woman even so much as thought of turning in a false valuation, there would be a hefty fine and that money would go to whatever slinking snitch had turned you in. Again, charming.

Now these 1400 women had opinions of their own on the subject of taxation. They followed the general script for women with a political grievance. Women didn’t have much in the way of official channels of complaint, but they could and did appeal to the most influential women they could reach, namely the close family members of the triumvirs. They appealed to Octavian’s sister and Antony’s mother, both of whom heard them out. But Fulvia, wife of Antony, was apparently very rude, though Appian fails to record exactly what she said. Given the way Fulvia is sometimes described elsewhere, it might have been something I wouldn’t repeat on this podcast anyway. You get the general idea.

Now two things strike me about this plan. The first was that these women apparently were thought to have enough influence over Octavian and Antony to be able to help. So kudos to them for that. Men should listen to their wives, mothers, and sisters, though I take a dim view on being excluded from more official channels of influence. But the second thought that strikes me is that these women do not appear to have been numbered among the 1400 taxed women themselves. Why not? Surely they were also wealthy? Fulvia, in particular, is thought to have been an heiress of no small fortune. It sounds to me like there was a special exemption for close relatives of evil dictators?

But did Fulvia’s rudeness lead these 1400 women give up? Never! Instead, they marched their way to the forum, and forced their way in past crowds of men and guards. They had also selected an orator for themselves, a woman named Hortensia, daughter of Quintus Hortensius, a famous orator himself.

Hortensia said to the forum, “As befitted women of our rank addressing a petition to you, we had recourse to the ladies of your households; but having been treated as did not befit us, at the hands of Fulvia, we have been driven by her to the forum. You have already deprived us of our fathers, our sons, our husbands, and our brothers, whom you accused of having wronged you; if you take away our property also, you reduce us to a condition unbecoming our birth, our manners, our sex. If we have done you wrong, as you say our husbands have, proscribe us as you do them. But if we women have not voted any of you public enemies, have not torn down your houses, destroyed your army, or led another one against you; if we have not hindered you in obtaining offices and honours, — why do we share the penalty when we did not share the guilt?” Good point, Hortensia, but here’s the kicker: “Why should we pay taxes when we have no part in the honors, the commands, the state-craft,​ for which you contend against each other with such harmful results?”

Women were specifically excluded from the civilia officia, which is to say the duties required of male citizens, and most specifically the right to vote and the right to hold public office. Now you might say boo to that. But do keep in mind that Rome was a very military oriented society. Women being so inferior were not required to fight in the army, and they did not have to pay the tributum, which was the direct tax that paid the soldier’s wages. This was no trivial exemption, when you realize how much of the government’s money went directly to the military effort. Now it is true that the tributum had been abolished a hundred years earlier, on account of Rome having seized enough cash from its neighbors that at that point it didn’t need to tax its own citizens. Obviously, times had changed, but even so, this is the general atmosphere of Republican Rome: full male citizenship is an honor that carries with it both rights and responsibilities. Hortensia is arguing that women are denied the rights, so they should not have the responsibilities either. No right to vote, no responsibility to pay taxes.

Hortensia continues to forestall one possible argument against her: “‘Because this is a time of war,” do you say? When have there not been wars,” –again, good point Hortensia— “and when have taxes ever been imposed on women, who are exempted by their sex among all mankind? Our mothers did once rise superior to their sex and made contributions when you were in danger of losing the whole empire and the city itself through the conflict with the Carthaginians. But then they contributed voluntarily, not from their landed property, their fields, their dowries, or their houses, without which life is not possible to free women, but only from their own jewelry, and even these not according to the fixed valuation, not under fear of informers or accusers, not by force and violence, but what they themselves were willing to give. What alarm is there now for the empire or the country? Let war with the Gauls or the Parthians come, and we shall not be inferior to our mothers in zeal for the common safety; but for civil wars may we never contribute, nor ever assist you against each other! We did not contribute to Caesar or to Pompey. Neither Marius nor Cinna imposed taxes upon us. Nor did Sulla, who held despotic power in the state, do so, whereas you say that you are re-establishing the commonwealth.”

Now I listen to this and wonder why my government does not seem to know that women are exempt from taxes among all mankind? But I doubt that submitting Hortensia’s speech as my tax return next year will get me out of anything. And indeed, it turns out that was not quite true even in Republican Rome. Women had been exempt from the tributum back when it existed, and I wouldn’t dream of doubting Hortensia’s account of Marius, Cinna, Sulla, and all, but widows had been required at least at one point to pay the tax that went to the fodder of the army’s horses. And that’s just what I found after just a little digging, so it’s not quite correct to say that women never paid taxes, though it may have been true in Hortensia’s recent history.

The Romans, however, seem to have been much affected by Hortensia’s speech. Valerius Maximus who records Hortensia as the last of only three women ever to argue before the public courts says in her praise that “Q. Hortensius then revived in the Female Sex, and breath’d in the words of his Daughter,” which I am pretty sure was the highest compliment he could consider giving a woman, especially as compared to what he has to say about the second woman in his list, who “abounded in impudence” so much so that her name was given to all contentious women, and her death was to be noted as the day when a monster went out of the world. Yikes.

Anyway, the triumvirs, listening to this tirade, were angry. And why? Because, again according to Appian, “they were angry that women should dare to hold a public meeting when the men were silent; that they should demand from magistrates the reasons for their acts.” I mean, heaven forbid we should ask our government the reasons for what it does.

The triumvirs ordered these women driven away, and that was tried, but the multitude outside was entirely on the side of the women. That kind of thing happens when you’ve been making up treason charges and executing innocent people. It’s hard to keep up your approval ratings. And when the guards gave up trying to drive the women away, the triumvirs decided that they would, after all, hold off on the tax until they’d had time to think about it. Very thoughtful and considerate of them, I’m sure, especially when they were still being invaded by a horde of angry women.

The next day, after careful, reasoned consideration, the triumvirs reduced the number of women who had to pay the tax from 1400 to 400. Instead, they imposed an additional tax on men.

Can you believe it worked? Or at least mostly worked? I mean the men are being rounded up, murdered and stolen from, all done with the slightest bit of remorse or compunction, but the women are the ones who manage to protest and mostly succeed?! Bring out the grapes and the olives and the honey cakes, I’m sure there was a celebration at the girls’ night out that night.

Most unfortunately, Appian says not a further word about Hortensia, and I am pretty miffed about that because I have a ton of questions! Like was she in the 400 who still had to pay? Did the triumvirs find a way to get back at her? Did she consider herself a success because of the 1000 or a failure because of the 400? Does she have a book of further orations on other subjects? What kind of education did her famous orator father give her? What encouragement or discouragement? Silence, my friends, we have utter silence on all these questions. As far as I can tell absolutely nothing more is known about Hortensia’s past or future. Lack of sources is ever the problem in women’s history, but at least we have this one speech from her, which is more than the number of her famous father’s speeches, not one of which has survived.

One thing that is immediately noticeable though is that these women were not actually arguing for representation. No taxation without representation didn’t mean they wanted to join the senate. It meant they didn’t want to be taxed!

Now the way I was taught, when the American founding fathers used that catchy phrase, it was because they definitely wanted representation, equality, and all noble things. It certainly wasn’t about anything as sordid as mere money! Actually, there are those who have argued that the American colonies would have been plenty happy without representation as long as they could have avoided the taxation. And maybe so. Maybe so. There were a lot of people involved, and they didn’t all agree with each other.

In next week’s episode, we will move on to a group of women who also said “no taxation without representation,” and they definitely did mean “Yes, we want representation.” These women were Americans, and they paid taxes when they had no right to vote and later on after they had been given the right to vote, some of them still could not vote because they could not pay the tax involved.

Selected Sources

My major source this week is Appian of Alexandria’s account of Hortensia. The translation I used is here. Quintus Valerius Maximus is no where near as detailed, but he does speak highly of her in this account.

Other sources include this article on the Egyptian cattle count, this one on ancient taxes, this one on women in the Roman Republic, and finally this article on Jstor:

Chatelard, Aude, and Anne Stevens. “Women as Legal Minors and Their Citizenship in Republican Rome.” Clio. Women, Gender, History, no. 43 (2016): 24-47. Accessed July 6, 2021. https://www.jstor.org/stable/26242541.

Sadly I am unaware of any actual picture of Hortensia, so the feature image is not actually of her. It’s actually an unknown woman, portrayed in a fresco in Pompeii, so just a little before Hortensia’s time. It’s commonly called the Sappho fresco, though there is absolutely no reason to think this Roman woman was supposed to be the Greek poet.