Chapter XLVI
The city burned on. The Circus Maximus had fallen in ruins. Entirestreets and alleys in parts which began to burn first were falling inturn. After every fall pillars of flame rose for a time to the verysky. The wind had changed, and blew now with mighty force from the sea,bearing toward the Caelian, the Esquiline, and the Viminal rivers offlame, brands, and cinders. Still the authorities provided for rescue.At command of Tigellinus, who had hastened from Antium the thirdday before, houses on the Esquiline were torn down so that the fire,reaching empty spaces, died of itself. That was, however, undertakensolely to save a remnant of the city; to save that which was burningwas not to be thought of. There was need also to guard against furtherresults of the ruin. Incalculable wealth had perished in Rome; all theproperty of its citizens had vanished; hundreds of thousands of peoplewere wandering in utter want outside the walls. Hunger had begun topinch this throng the second day, for the immense stores of provisionsin the city had burned with it. In the universal disorder and in thedestruction of authority no one had thought of furnishing new supplies.Only after the arrival of Tigellinus were proper orders sent to Ostia;but meanwhile the people had grown more threatening.
The house at Aqua Appia, in which Tigellinus lodged for the moment,was surrounded by crowds of women, who from morning till late at nightcried, "Bread and a roof!" Vainly did pretorians, brought from the greatcamp between the Via Salaria and the Nomentana, strive to maintain orderof some kind. Here and there they were met by open, armed resistance. Inplaces weaponless crowds pointed to the burning city, and shouted,"Kill us in view of that fire!" They abused Caesar, the Augustians, thepretorians; excitement rose every moment, so that Tigellinus, lookingat night on the thousands of fires around the city, said to himself thatthose were fires in hostile camps.
Besides flour, as much baked bread as possible was brought at hiscommand, not only from Ostia, but from all towns and neighboringvillages. When the first instalment came at night to the Emporium, thepeople broke the chief gate toward the Aventine, seized all supplies inthe twinkle of an eye, and caused terrible disturbance. In the light ofthe conflagration they fought for loaves, and trampled many of them intothe earth. Flour from torn bags whitened like snow the whole space fromthe granary to the arches of Drusus and Germanicus. The uproar continuedtill soldiers seized the building and dispersed the crowd with arrowsand missiles.
Never since the invasion by the Gauls under Brennus had Rome beheld suchdisaster. People in despair compared the two conflagrations. But in thetime of Brennus the Capitol remained. Now the Capitol was encircled by adreadful wreath of flame. The marbles, it is true, were not blazing;but at night, when the wind swept the flames aside for a moment, rowsof columns in the lofty sanctuary of Jove were visible, red as glowingcoals. In the days of Brennus, moreover, Rome had a disciplined integralpeople, attached to the city and its altars; but now crowds of amany-tongued populace roamed nomad-like around the walls of burningRome,--people composed for the greater part of slaves and freedmen,excited, disorderly, and ready, under the pressure of want, to turnagainst authority and the city.
But the very immensity of the fire, which terrified every heart,disarmed the crowd in a certain measure. After the fire might comefamine and disease; and to complete the misfortune the terrible heatof July had appeared. It was impossible to breathe air inflamed both byfire and the sun. Night brought no relief, on the contrary it presenteda hell. During daylight an awful and ominous spectacle met the eye. Inthe centre a giant city on heights was turned into a roaring volcano;round about as far as the Alban Hills was one boundless camp, formed ofsheds, tents, huts, vehicles, bales, packs, stands, fires, all coveredwith smoke and dust, lighted by sun-rays reddened by passing throughsmoke,--everything filled with roars, shouts, threats, hatred andterror, a monstrous swarm of men, women, and children. Mingled withQuirites were Greeks, shaggy men from the North with blue eyes,Africans, and Asiatics; among citizens were slaves, freedmen,gladiators, merchants, mechanics, servants, and soldiers,--a real sea ofpeople, flowing around the island of fire.
Various reports moved this sea as wind does a real one. These reportswere favorable and unfavorable. People told of immense supplies of wheatand clothing to be brought to the Emporium and distributed gratis. Itwas said, too, that provinces in Asia and Africa would be stripped oftheir wealth at Caesar's command, and the treasures thus gained begiven to the inhabitants of Rome, so that each man might build his owndwelling. But it was noised about also that water in the aqueducts hadbeen poisoned; that Nero intended to annihilate the city, destroy theinhabitants to the last person, then move to Greece or to Egypt, andrule the world from a new place. Each report ran with lightning speed,and each found belief among the rabble, causing outbursts of hope,anger, terror, or rage. Finally a kind of fever mastered those nomadicthousands. The belief of Christians that the end of the world by firewas at hand, spread even among adherents of the gods, and extendeddaily. People fell into torpor or madness. In clouds lighted by theburning, gods were seen gazing down on the ruin; hands were stretchedtoward those gods then to implore pity or send them curses.
Meanwhile soldiers, aided by a certain number of inhabitants, continuedto tear down houses on the Esquiline and the Caelian, as also in theTrans-Tiber; these divisions were saved therefore in considerable part.But in the city itself were destroyed incalculable treasures accumulatedthrough centuries of conquest; priceless works of art, splendid temples,the most precious monuments of Rome's past, and Rome's glory. Theyforesaw that of all Rome there would remain barely a few parts on theedges, and that hundreds of thousands of people would be without a roof.Some spread reports that the soldiers were tearing down houses not tostop the fire, but to prevent any part of the city from being saved.Tigellinus sent courier after courier to Antium, imploring Caesar in eachletter to come and calm the despairing people with his presence. ButNero moved only when fire had seized the "domus transitoria," and hehurried so as not to miss the moment in which the conflagration shouldbe at its highest.
Meanwhile fire had reached the Via Nomentana, but turned from it at oncewith a change of wind toward the Via Lata and the Tiber. It surroundedthe Capitol, spread along the Forum Boarium, destroyed everything whichit had spared before, and approached the Palatine a second time.
Tigellinus, assembling all the pretorian forces, despatched courierafter courier to Caesar with an announcement that he would lose nothingof the grandeur of the spectacle, for the fire had increased.
But Nero, who was on the road, wished to come at night, so as to satehimself all the better with a view of the perishing capital. Thereforehe halted, in the neighborhood of Aqua Albana, and, summoning to histent the tragedian Aliturus, decided with his aid on posture, look,and expression; learned fitting gestures, disputing with the actorstubbornly whether at the words "O sacred city, which seemed moreenduring than Ida," he was to raise both hands, or, holding in one theforminga, drop it by his side and raise only the other. This questionseemed to him then more important than all others. Starting at lastabout nightfall, he took counsel of Petronius also whether to the linesdescribing the catastrophe he might add a few magnificent blasphemiesagainst the gods, and whether, considered from the standpoint of art,they would not have rushed spontaneously from the mouth of a man in sucha position, a man who was losing his birthplace.
At length he approached the walls about midnight with his numerouscourt, composed of whole detachments of nobles, senators, knights,freedmen, slaves, women, and children. Sixteen thousand pretorians,arranged in line of battle along the road, guarded the peace and safetyof his entrance, and held the excited populace at a proper distance. Thepeople cursed, shouted, and hissed on seeing the retinue, but dared notattack it. In many places, however, applause was given by the rabble,which, owning nothing, had lost nothing in the fire, and which hoped fora more bountiful distribution than usual of wheat, olives, clothing, andmoney. Finally, shouts, hissing, and applause were drowned in the blareof horns and trumpets, which Tigellinus had
caused to be sounded.
Nero, on arriving at the Ostian Gate, halted, and said, "Houseless rulerof a houseless people, where shall I lay my unfortunate head for thenight?"
After he had passed the Clivus Delphini, he ascended the Appian aqueducton steps prepared purposely. After him followed the Augustians and achoir of singers, bearing citharae, lutes, and other musical instruments.
And all held the breath in their breasts, waiting to learn if he wouldsay some great words, which for their own safety they ought to remember.But he stood solemn, silent, in a purple mantle, and a wreath of goldenlaurels, gazing at the raging might of the flames. When Terpnos gavehim a golden lute, he raised his eyes to the sky, filled with theconflagration, as if he were waiting for inspiration.
The people pointed at him from afar as he stood in the bloody gleam. Inthe distance fiery serpents were hissing. The ancient and most sacrededifices were in flames: the temple of Hercules, reared by Evander, wasburning; the temple of Jupiter Stator was burning, the temple of Luna,built by Servius Tullius, the house of Numa Pompilius, the sanctuary ofVesta with the penates of the Roman people; through waving flames theCapitol appeared at intervals; the past and the spirit of Rome wasburning. But he, Caesar, was there with a lute in his hand and atheatrical expression on his face, not thinking of his perishingcountry, but of his posture and the prophetic words with which he mightdescribe best the greatness of the catastrophe, rouse most admiration,and receive the warmest plaudits. He detested that city, he detested itsinhabitants, beloved only his own songs and verses; hence he rejoiced inheart that at last he saw a tragedy like that which he was writing.The verse-maker was happy, the declaimer felt inspired, the seeker foremotions was delighted at the awful sight, and thought with rapturethat even the destruction of Troy was as nothing if compared with thedestruction of that giant city. What more could he desire? There wasworld-ruling Rome in flames, and he, standing on the arches of theaqueduct with a golden lute, conspicuous, purple, admired, magnificent,poetic. Down below, somewhere in the darkness, the people are mutteringand storming. But let them mutter! Ages will pass, thousands of yearswill go by, but mankind will remember and glorify the poet, who in thatnight sang the fall and the burning of Troy. What was Homer comparedwith him? What Apollo himself with his hollowed-out lute?
Here he raised his hands and, striking the strings, pronounced the wordsof Priam.
"O nest of my fathers, O dear cradle!" His voice in the open air,with the roar of the conflagration, and the distant murmur of crowdingthousands, seemed marvellously weak, uncertain, and low, and thesound of the accompaniment like the buzzing of insects. But senators,dignitaries, and Augustians, assembled on the aqueduct, bowed theirheads and listened in silent rapture. He sang long, and his motive wasever sadder. At moments, when he stopped to catch breath, the chorus ofsingers repeated the last verse; then Nero cast the tragic "syrma" [Arobe with train, worn especially by tragic actors] from his shoulderwith a gesture learned from Aliturus, struck the lute, and sang on.When at last he had finished the lines composed, he improvised, seekinggrandiose comparisons in the spectacle unfolded before him. His facebegan to change. He was not moved, it is true, by the destruction of hiscountry's capital; but he was delighted and moved with the pathos of hisown words to such a degree that his eyes filled with tears on a sudden.At last he dropped the lute to his feet with a clatter, and, wrappinghimself in the "syrma," stood as if petrified, like one of those statuesof Niobe which ornamented the courtyard of the Palatine.
Soon a storm of applause broke the silence. But in the distance this wasanswered by the howling of multitudes. No one doubted then that Caesarhad given command to burn the city, so as to afford himself a spectacleand sing a song at it. Nero, when he heard that cry from hundreds ofthousands, turned to the Augustians with the sad, resigned smile of aman who is suffering from injustice.
"See," said he, "how the Quirites value poetry and me."
"Scoundrels!" answered Vatinius. "Command the pretorians, lord, to fallon them."
Nero turned to Tigellinus,--
"Can I count on the loyalty of the soldiers?"
"Yes, divinity," answered the prefect.
But Petronius shrugged his shoulders, and said,--
"On their loyalty, yes, but not on their numbers. Remain meanwhilewhere thou art, for here it is safest; but there is need to pacify thepeople."
Seneca was of this opinion also, as was Licinus the consul. Meanwhilethe excitement below was increasing. The people were arming with stones,tent-poles, sticks from the wagons, planks, and various pieces of iron.After a while some of the pretorian leaders came, declaring that thecohorts, pressed by the multitude, kept the line of battle with extremedifficulty, and, being without orders to attack, they knew not what todo.
"O gods," said Nero, "what a night!" On one side a fire, on the othera raging sea of people. And he fell to seeking expressions the mostsplendid to describe the danger of the moment, but, seeing around himalarmed looks and pale faces, he was frightened, with the others.
"Give me my dark mantle with a hood!" cried he; "must it come really tobattle?"
"Lord," said Tigellinus, in an uncertain voice, "I have done what Icould, but danger is threatening. Speak, O lord, to the people, and makethem promises."
"Shall Caesar speak to the rabble? Let another do that in my name. Whowill undertake it?"
"I!" answered Petronius, calmly.
"Go, my friend; thou art most faithful to me in every necessity. Go, andspare no promises."
Petronius turned to the retinue with a careless, sarcastic expression,--
"Senators here present, also Piso, Nerva, and Senecio, follow me."
Then he descended the aqueduct slowly. Those whom he had summonedfollowed, not without hesitation, but with a certain confidence whichhis calmness had given them. Petronius, halting at the foot of thearches, gave command to bring him a white horse, and, mounting, rode on,at the head of the cavalcade, between the deep ranks of pretorians,to the black, howling multitude; he was unarmed, having only a slenderivory cane which he carried habitually.
When he had ridden up, he pushed his horse into the throng. All around,visible in the light of the burning, were upraised hands, armed withevery manner of weapon, inflamed eyes, sweating faces, bellowing andfoaming lips. A mad sea of people surrounded him and his attendants;round about was a sea of heads, moving, roaring, dreadful.
The outbursts increased and became an unearthly roar; poles, forks,and even swords were brandished above Petronius; grasping hands werestretched toward his horse's reins and toward him, but he rode farther;cool, indifferent, contemptuous. At moments he struck the most insolentheads with his cane, as if clearing a road for himself in an ordinarycrowd; and that confidence of his, that calmness, amazed the ragingrabble. They recognized him at length, and numerous voices began toshout,--
"Petronius! Arbiter Elegantiarum! Petronius! Petronius!" was heard onall sides. And as that name was repeated, the faces about became lessterrible, the uproar less savage: for that exquisite patrician, thoughhe had never striven for the favor of the populace, was still theirfavorite. He passed for a humane and magnanimous man; and his popularityhad increased, especially since the affair of Pedanius Secundus, whenhe spoke in favor of mitigating the cruel sentence condemning all theslaves of that prefect to death. The slaves more especially lovedhim thenceforward with that unbounded love which the oppressed orunfortunate are accustomed to give those who show them even smallsympathy. Besides, in that moment was added curiosity as to what Caesar'senvoy would say, for no one doubted that Caesar had sent him.
He removed his white toga, bordered with scarlet, raised it in the air,and waved it above his head, in sign that he wished to speak.
"Silence! Silence!" cried the people on all sides.
After a while there was silence. Then he straightened himself on thehorse and said in a clear, firm voice,--
"Citizens, let those who hear me repeat my words to those who are moredistant, and bear yourselves,
all of you, like men, not like beasts inthe arena."
"We will, we will!"
"Then listen. The city will be rebuilt. The gardens of Lucullus,Maecenas, Caesar, and Agrippina will be opened to you. To-morrow willbegin the distribution of wheat, wine, and olives, so that every man maybe full to the throat. Then Caesar will have games for you, such as theworld has not seen yet; during these games banquets and gifts will begiven you. Ye will be richer after the fire than before it."
A murmur answered him which spread from the centre in every direction,as a wave rises on water in which a stone has been cast. Those nearerrepeated his words to those more distant. Afterward were heard hereand there shouts of anger or applause, which turned at length into oneuniversal call of "Panem et circenses!!!"
Petronius wrapped himself in his toga and listened for a time withoutmoving, resembling in his white garment a marble statue. The uproarincreased, drowned the roar of the fire, was answered from everyside and from ever-increasing distances. But evidently the envoy hadsomething to add, for he waited. Finally, commanding silence anew, hecried,--"I promised you panem et circenses; and now give a shout inhonor of Caesar, who feeds and clothes you; then go to sleep, dearpopulace, for the dawn will begin before long."
He turned his horse then, and, tapping lightly with his cane the headsand faces of those who stood in his way, he rode slowly to the pretorianranks. Soon he was under the aqueduct. He found almost a panic above,where they had not understood the shout "Panem et circenses," andsupposed it to be a new outburst of rage. They had not even expectedthat Petronius would save himself; so Nero, when he saw him, ran to thesteps, and with face pale from emotion, inquired,--
"Well, what are they doing? Is there a battle?"
Petronius drew air into his lungs, breathed deeply, and answered,--"ByPollux! they are sweating! and such a stench! Will some one give me anepilimma?--for I am faint." Then he turned to Caesar.
"I promised them," said he, "wheat, olives, the opening of the gardens,and games. They worship thee anew, and are howling in thy honor. Gods,what a foul odor those plebeians have!"
"I had pretorians ready," cried Tigellinus; "and hadst thou not quietedthem, the shouters would have been silenced forever. It is a pity,Caesar, that thou didst not let me use force."
Petronius looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and added,--
"The chance is not lost. Thou mayst have to use it to-morrow."
"No, no!" cried Caesar, "I will give command to open the gardens to them,and distribute wheat. Thanks to thee, Petronius, I will have games; andthat song, which I sang to-day, I will sing publicly."
Then he placed his hands on the arbiter's shoulder, was silent a moment,and starting up at last inquired,--
"Tell me sincerely, how did I seem to thee while I was singing?"
"Thou wert worthy of the spectacle, and the spectacle was worthy ofthee," said Petronius.
"But let us look at it again," said he, turning to the fire, "and bidfarewell to ancient Rome."
Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero Page 46