The Secret of the Kingdom

Book IX

Tigellinus

No rain had fallen for a long time, apart from thunderstorms, and Rome was tormented by the heat, the dirt, the smell and the dust. In my garden on Aventine, the leaves on the trees were covered with dust and the grass rustled dryly. Aunt Laelia was the only person to enjoy the heat. She, who because of her age was usually cold, had herself carried out into the garden where she sniffed with an experienced air.

“Real fire weather in Rome,” she said.

It was as if for a moment her head had cleared. She began to relate for the hundredth time the story of the fire which had ravaged the slopes of Aventine many years ago. My father’s banker had bought the burned-out sites cheaply and had had the apartments built on them which provided me with the whole of the income required for the Order of Knights, until I sold them the previous winter.

When I sniffed the air I could smell the smoke, but it did not worry me, for I knew that the fire brigades in all sections of the city would be on the alert in this heat, and that it was forbidden to light a fire unnecessarily. It was not even windy. The air was still and suffocating from the early hours of the morning onward.

From somewhere far away came the sound of horn signals and a curious murmuring, but not until I was on my way into the city did I see that the side of the great race-course facing Palatine was in flames. Huge clouds of smoke were billowing up from the wax, incense and cloth booths. These highly inflammable small buildings had no firewalls at all, so the fire had caught on and spread like lightning.

People were seething like ants all around the fire. I thought I saw fire brigades from at least three sections of the city clearing wide firebreaks to stop the raging sea of flames from spreading. I had never seen such a large fire before. It was an oppressive sight, but nevertheless did not worry me overmuch. In fact, I thought that the fire brigade from our part of the city should not have gone down there, but should have stayed and guarded the slopes of Aventine.

I sent one of my men to warn Claudia and the household, and on the way to the menagerie I looked in at the City Prefecture to ask how the fire had started. A messenger had been sent on horseback to fetch my former father-in-law back from his country estate, but his next-in-command seemed to have things well in hand.

He blamed the Jewish small traders and the circus people in the shops at the Capua gate for carelessness, but he was confident that their highly inflammable goods would burn up quite quickly. In fact he considered keeping order a much more difficult task than confining the fire, for slaves and other rabble had at once hurried to the spot to make the most of the opportunity by plundering the circus shops.

After inspecting the menagerie, which was suffering badly from the heat, and consulting the veterinary physician on the preservation of our perishable meat supply, I ordered extra rations of water given to all the animals and saw that water was poured over their cages. I spoke to Sabina in all friendliness, for since our divorce we had been on much better terms than before.

Sabina asked me to go at once to the superintendent of the waterworks to ensure that the water supplies to the menagerie were not cut because of the fire. I assured her that there was no need to worry, for all the heads of noble households would probably be there already on the same errand, to ensure the watering of their gardens in the hot weather.

At the waterworks they told me that the blocking of the aqueducts could certainly not be revoked without a decision from the Senate or an Imperial command. The usual water-rationing would thus remain unchanged, for the Senate could not be summoned together for several days since it does not meet during-the summer unless the State is threatened. Nero was in Antium at the time.

Feeling in a better mood, I went up to the Palatine hill, walked past the empty palace buildings and joined the crowd of spectators gathered on the slope facing the race-course. They were mostly slaves, servants and gardeners from the Imperial household. No one seemed worried, although the whole of the hollow below us was one great burning, billowing furnace.

The fire was so violent that it formed whirlpools in the air, and the hot blast constandy blew across our faces. Some of the slaves indifferently stamped out smoldering patches of grass and someone swore when a spark burned a hole in his tunic. But the watering apparatus was working in the gardens and no one looked very concerned. There was nothing to be seen in the watchers’ expressions except excitement over the spectacular scene before them. When I tried to look across to Aventine through the swirling smoke, I noticed that the fire had spread to the slope and was slowly but surely beginning to eat its way up toward my own part of the city. I suddenly made haste. I told my following to go home by themselves and then borrowed a horse from Nero’s stables, as I saw a messenger galloping along the via Sacra over by the forum.

There the most cautious were already bolting and barring their shops and only in the large market halls were housewives still making their purchases as usual. I was able to make my way back to my own house by a roundabout route along the banks of the Tiber, and on the way I saw many men slinking along in the smoke, carrying either plunder or things they had rescued from near the race-course.

The narrow streets were packed with anxious crowds of people. Mothers in tears were calling their children, while heads of households stood anxiously outside their doors and uncertainly asked each other what they should do. No one is particularly willing to leave his house empty during a big fire, for the city police would then find it impossible to keep order.

Many people were already saying that the Emperor should return from Antium. I too began to feel that emergency measures were now necessary. I could only thank my good fortune that my menagerie lay on the outskirts of the city on the other side of Mars field.

When I arrived home, I immediately ordered sedans and bearers out and told Claudia and Aunt Laelia to go to the fourteenth district of the city on the other side of the Tiber with the household staff. As many of our most valuable possessions as could be carried would have to be taken too, for there were no vehicles available during the day.

Only the doorkeeper and the strongest of the slaves were ordered to remain behind to protect the house from looters. I left them weapons because of the unusual circumstances. But it was important that they all hurry, for I guessed that others would soon follow suit and the narrow streets of Aventine would be choked with refugees.

Claudia protested violendy and said she first had to send a warning to her Christian friends and help the weak and old among them to flee. They were redeemed by Christ and so worth more than our gold and silver vessels, she said. I pointed at Aunt Laelia.

“You’ve an old person there to protect,” I cried. “And you might at least give a thought to our unborn child.”

At that moment Aquila the Jew and Prisca came panting into our courtyard, sweat pouring from them as they carried their bundles of goat-hair cloth. They begged me to allow them to leave their possessions in the security of my house, for the fire was already approaching their weaving-sheds. Their shortsighted foolishness angered me, for Claudia, trusting them, said there was almost certainly no danger to us yet. Aquila and Prisca could not go over to the Jewish part of the city on the other side of the Tiber, for the Jews knew them by sight and hated them like the plague.

During all this talk and women’s chatter, much valuable time had been lost. Finally I was forced to slap Aunt Laelia and forcibly push Claudia into a sedan. So eventually they all set off and just in time, for then some Christians with smoke-blackened faces and burns on their arms came rushing in to ask after Aquila.

With their arms raised and their eyes staring, they cried that with their own ears they had heard the earth and the sky rend asunder and knew that Christ in accordance with his promise was about to come down to Rome. So all Christians should throw down their burdens and assemble on the hills of the city to receive their Lord and his new kingdom. The day of judgment had come.

But Prisca was an experienced, sensible and restrained woman and she would not believe such news. In fact she cried out to the newcomers to be silent, for she herself had had no such vision and anyhow, the only clouds in sight in the sky were clouds of smoke.

I also assured them that although Rome appeared to be threatened by a great misfortune, a fire in two or three sections of the city did not mean the ruin of the whole city. Those who were frightened were mosdy poor and were used to believing-people of higher standing. The narrow red band on my clothes convinced them that I knew more about the situation than they did.

I thought that the time had now come to call out the Praetorians and declare a state of emergency. I was not knowledgeable in that quarter, but common sense told me that it would be necessary to clear as wide a fire-break as possible across the whole of Aventine, without sparing the houses, and then light counter-fires to dispose of the buildings which were doomed anyhow. It must be considered as only human nature that I calculated my own house in the area which could be saved.

I rode off to consult the triumvirate in my part of the city and said that I would take the responsibility for any measures taken, but in their anxiety and obstinacy they shouted back that I should mind my own business, for there was no real emergency yet.

I rode on to the forum, from where one could see only the clouds of smoke above the rooftops and I was ashamed of my exaggerated anxiety, for everyone seemed to be behaving much as usual. I was calmed by assurances that the Sibylline books had been taken out and the college of High Priests was hastening to find out to which god one should first make sacrifices in order to stop the fire spreading.

A jet-black garlanded bull was led into the Volcanus temple. Several old men said that, to judge from previous experiences, it would be better to make offerings to Proserpina as well. They said confidently that the guardian spirits and ancient household gods of Rome would not allow the fire to spread too far, once infallible evidence had been found in the Sibylline books on how and why the gods had been angered.

I think the fire could have been limited if definite and ruthless measures had been taken that first day. But there was no one who dared take the responsibility, although Tigellinus’ second-in-command did in fact on his own responsibility send two cohorts of Praetorians to clear the most threatened streets and to keep order.

Prefect Flavius Sabinus arrived that evening and at once ordered all the fire brigades to protect Palatine, where crackling flames were already dancing in the tops of the pine trees in the garden. He demantled battering-rams and siege-machinery, but they were not put to use until the next day, when Tigellinus returned from Antium and with the Emperor’s authority firmly took command. Nero himself did not want to interrupt his holiday because of the fire and did not consider his presence in the city necessary, although the frightened crowds were calling for him.

When Tigellinus saw that it was going to be impossible to save the buildings on Palatine, he considered it time for Nero to return and calm the people. Nero was so anxious about his Greek works of art that he rode all the way from Antium without a pause. Senators and important knights also came in great numbers from their country places. But Tigellinus’ authority could not bring them to their senses and every one of them thought only of his own house and valuables. Against all the regulations, they brought with them ox-teams and carts, so that the streets became more choked than ever.

Nero set up his headquarters in the Maecenas gardens on the Esquiline hill, and he showed inspired resolution in the moment of danger. Flavius Sabinus could do little but weep from then on. As I was piloting refugees, I myself had once been surrounded by the fire and had received several burns.

From the Maecenas tower, Nero could see the terrible extent of the fire for himself, and he marked on a map the threatened areas which according to Tigellinus’ advice had to be evacuated at once and burned as soon as the fire-breaks were ready. The measures were now more coordinated and the patricians were driven out of their houses, battering-rams began to pound the dangerous cornshops to pieces, and neither temples nor fine buildings were spared where the fire-breaks had to run.

Nero thought it more important to save human lives than treasures, and he sent out hundreds of heralds to pilot the thousands of refugees to those areas which it was hoped would be spared. Those who tried to remain in their condemned houses were hunted out by armed men, and the transporting of furniture and other bulky articles was forbidden in the narrow alleys.

Nero himself, smoke-stained and soot-flecked, hurried together with his life guard from place to place, calming and giving instructions to the anxious people. He might take a weeping child into his arms and hand him to his mother, as he told people to seek safety in his own gardens on the other side of the river. All public buildings by Mars field were thrown open as quarters for the refugees.

But the senators who tried to save at least their family masks and household gods could not understand why soldiers chased them out of their own houses with the flats of their swords and then set fire to the building with torches.

Unfortunately this huge fire gave rise to a violent wind which flung flames and sparks right over the cleared protective area, the width of a whole stadium. The firemen, exhausted after several days’ exertions, could not stop the fire from spreading and many of them collapsed from exhaustion at their posts in the duty-chain and fell asleep, to be consumed by the flames.

Another and even wider fire-break was cleared to protect Subura, but Tigellinus was no more than human and was tempted to spare the ancient trees in his own garden, so the fire, which on the sixth day had almost died down, flared up again in them and spread to Subura, where it rushed through the tall, partly timbered buildings with such speed that the people in the upper stories did not even have time to get down to the street. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, were burned alive.

This was when the rumor began that Nero had had the city set on fire deliberately. The rumor was so insane that there were at once people who believed it. There were, after all, innumerable witnesses who had themselves seen soldiers with torches setting buildings on fire. The general confusion due to lack of sleep and the exertions of the people was so great that some people also believed the rumor the Christians had spread about the day of judgment.

Of course, no one dared to tell Nero about this allegation. Excellent actor that he was, he retained his calm and while the fire was still raging, he summoned all the best architects in Rome to plan the rebuilding of the city. He also saw to it that food supplies were brought in to the needy in Rome. But on his daily round of inspection of the extent of the fire, at which he made encouraging promises to those who had lost everything, there were more and more threatening cries, people threw stones at the Praetorians and some distracted people blamed Nero for the destruction of the city.

Nero was deeply offended, but kept a good face.

“The poor people must have lost their senses,” he said with compassion.

He turned back to the gardens of Maecenas and finally gave the order for the aqueducts to be opened, although this would mean a drought in the remaining parts of the city. I hurriedly rode to the menagerie to tell them to fill all the water-tanks in time. At the same time I ordered that all the animals should be killed if the fire spread as far as the wooden amphitheater. Such an event seemed impossible just then, but with my eyes smarting and my burns stinging, I was prepared to reckon on the total destruction of the city. I could not endure the thought of the animals getting free and roaming among the homeless and fleeing people.

That evening I was awakened from the deepest sleep I had had for a long time by a messenger summoning me to Nero. As soon as I had gone, Sabina issued a counterorder to the effect that anyone who tried to harm the animals would be killed on the spot.

As I walked to the gardens through the city illuminated by the flames, a wet mantle wrapped around my head for protection, a feeling that the end of the world had come predominated in my tired mind. I thought of the terrible prophecies of the Christians and also of the undent philosophers of Greece who had maintained that all things had once sprung from fire and would perish by fire,

I met some shouting babbling drunks who, for want of water, had slaked their thirst in an abandoned wine shop and were dragging women along with them. The Jews, packed in tight crowds, were singing hymns to their god. At one street corner I bumped into a confused man who, his beard reeking, embraced me, made the secret signs of the Christians and demantled that I should do penance and repent, for the day of judgment had come.

At the Maecenas tower, Nero was waiting impatiently for his friends. To my surprise, he was dressed in the long yellow cloak of a singer and had a wreath on his head. Tigellinus was standing respectfully beside him, holding Nero’s cittern.

Nero needed an audience and had sent messages to all the highly placed people he knew were in Rome. He had also ordered a thousand Praetorians to come and they were eating and drinking, seated on the grass under the well-watered trees in the gardens. Below us, the burning parts of the city glowed like crimson islands in the darkness, and the great swirls of smoke and fire seemed to reach right up into the sky.

Nero could wait no longer.

“In front of us lies a sight such as no mortal man has seen since the destruction of Troy,” he said in ringing tones. “Apollo himself has come down to me in a dream. When I awoke from this dream, stanzas came welling out from my heart as if in divine madness. I shall sing to you a verse I have composed on the burning of Troy. I think these stanzas will reverberate through the years to come and will make Nero immortal as a poet.”

A herald repeated his words as Nero climbed up the tower. There was not room for many people but naturally we did our best to get as near to him as possible. Nero began to sing, accompanying himself. His powerful voice rang out high above the sound of the fire and reached his hearers in the surrounding gardens. He sang as if bewitched and his poetry secretary supplied him with stanza after stanza which had been dictated during the day. But during the song, Nero composed new ones and another scribe was kept fully occupied writing more and more stanzas.

I had been to the theater to hear the classical drama often enough to know that he was quoting freely and had changed well-known verses either unconsciously in the moment of inspiration or using the license an artist is entitled to in such things. He sang for several hours on end. The centurions were hard put to keep the exhausted Praetorians awake with their batons.

But the experts kept saying that they had never heard such brilliant singing against such a splendid background. They applauded loudly in the intervals and said that what they had just experienced would be something to tell their children and grandchildren in times to come.

In the back of my mind, I wondered if Nero could possibly have become mentally deranged to choose to perform on a night like this. But I comforted myself with the thought that he had probably been deeply hurt by the accusations made by the people and so had transferred his great burden to artistic inspiration to relieve his feelings.

He stopped when the smoke forced him to and he began to cough and blow his nose. Then we took the chance to call out as one man, begging him to preserve his divine voice. But afterwards he was still scarlet in the face and radiant with sweat and triumph, promising to continue the following evening. Here and there on the edges of the fire, great clouds of steam rose into the sky as the aqueducts were opened and the water poured out into the smoking ruins of the city.

Tullia’s house on Viminalis lay quite near at hand, so I decided to go there and get a little sleep during the hours of the morning. I had not been worried about my father hitherto, for their house was safe for the time being. I did not even know whether he had come in from the country or not, but I could not see him among the other senators in Nero’s audience.

I found him alone, guarding his almost abandoned house, his eyes inflamed by the smoke. He told me that Tullia, with the help of a thousand slaves, had on the first day of the fire moved all the articles of value from the house out to a country property.

Jucundus, who had had his boy’s hair cut in the spring and had a narrow red border on his tunic, had run off to look at the fire with his friends from the Palatine school. Both his feet had been badly burned when a stream of molten metal had suddenly poured down a slope from one of the burning temples. He had been carried home and Tullia had taken him with her into the country. My father thought he would be a cripple for life.

“Then your son at least won’t have to do military service,” he added, stammering a little, “and spill his blood in the deserts of the East somewhere beyond the Euphrates.”

I was surprised to see that my father had been drinking too much wine, but I realized that he was very shaken by Jucundus’ accident. He saw me looking at him.

“It doesn’t matter that I am drinking wine again for once,” he said angrily. “I think the day of my death is approaching. I am not grieving over Jucundus. His feet were much too swift and had already taken him along dangerous paths. It is better to find the kingdom of God as a cripple than to let your heart be destroyed. I myself have been a spiritual cripple ever since your mother’s death, Minutus.”

My father was already well over sixty and he liked to return to the past in his memories. One thinks about death much more at his age than mine, so I did not take much notice at the time.

“What were you muttering about the deserts of the East and the Euphrates?” I asked him.

My father took a large gulp of the dark wine in his gold goblet and then turned to me.

“Among Jucundus’ school friends,” he said, “are the sons of kings from the East. Their parents, who are friendly to Rome, consider the crushing of Parthia absolutely vital to the East. These youngsters are more Roman than the Romans themselves, and Jucundus will soon be the same. In the Senate’s Eastern committee the question has been brought up many times. As soon as Corbulo has achieved peace in Armenia, Rome will have support there and Parthia will be caught between the two.”

“How can you think about war now when Rome is suffering a disaster?” I cried. “Three whole sections of the city lie in ruins and six others are still burning. Ancient landmarks have vanished in the flames. The Vesta temple has been burned to the ground, the tabularium too, with all the law tablets. Rebuilding Rome alone will take many years and will cost such an enormous amount that I can’t even imagine it. How can you think that a war is even possible at all?”

“Just because of that,” my father said thoughtfully. “I neither see visions nor have revelations, although I have begun to have such premonitory dreams that I must think about their contents. But dreams are dreams. Speaking logically, I think the rebuilding of Rome is going to mean heavy taxation in the provinces. This will arouse discontent, for the wealthy and the merchants usually let the people pay the taxes. When this discontent spreads, the government will be blamed. According to the greatest statesmanship, a war is the best way to provide an outlet for internal discontent. And when the war has once started, there is always money to keep it going.

“You yourself know,” he went on, “that in many quarters there are complaints that Rome has grown weak and that her warlike virtues have vanished. It is true that the young laugh at the virtues of their forefathers and perform parodies of Livy’s historical tales. But they still have wolf blood in their veins.”

“Nero does not want war,” I protested. “He was even prepared to give up Britain. Artistic laurels are all he strives for.”

“A ruler is always forced to follow the will of the people when necessary, otherwise he won’t stay long on his throne,” said my father. “Of course the people don’t want war, but bread and games in the circus. But underneath it all, powerful forces lie hidden who think they’ll do well out of war. Never before in history have such huge fortunes been made as are being made by individuals today. Freed slaves live more sumptuously than noblemen in Rome, for no traditions bind them to care for the State more than themselves. You don’t yet know, Minutus, what enormous power money has when it is combined with more money to reach its own objectives.

“Talking of money,” he said suddenly, “there are fortunately some things which are worth more. You have your mother’s wooden goblet in safekeeping, I suppose?”

I felt violently agitated, for during my quarrel with Claudia I had completely forgotten about the magic goblet. As far as I knew, my house had long since been lost and the goblet with it. I rose at once.

“My dear father,” I said, “you are more drunk than you know. It would be best if we forgot your fantasies. Go to bed now, for I must go back to my duties. You’re not the only one being attacked by furies tonight.”

In the mawkish way drunkards have, my father appealed to me not to forget his presentiments when he was dead, which would not be long now. I left his house and headed toward Aventine, skirting the edges of the fire. The heat forced me to cross the bridge into the Jewish section of the city and then have myself rowed back across farther up-river. Everyone who owned a boat was making a fortune ferrying refugees across the Tiber.

To my surprise, the Aventine slope on the river side seemed still quite untouched. Several times I went astray in the clouds of smoke, and among other things I saw that the Moon temple and its surroundings were nothing but smoking ruins. But just beside the fire area, my own house stood unscathed. There was no other explanation except that the wind, which elsewhere had had such a devastating effect, seemed to have kept the fire away from the top of Aventine although there was not even a proper fire-break. Only a few houses had been deliberately demolished.

The eighth morning of the fire dawned on the desolation. Hundreds of people lay tightly packed in my garden-men, women and children. Even the empty water-tanks were full of sleeping people. Taking long strides over them, I reached the house, into which no one had dared to go although the doors were wide open.

I rushed to my room, found the locked chest and at the bottom of it the wooden goblet in its silk cloth. When I took it in my hands, I was seized in my exhaustion with superstitious fear, as if I really were holding a miracle-performing object. I was struck by the terrible thought that the secret goblet of the Goddess of Fortune, for which my father’s freedmen in Antioch had also shown such respect, had protected my house from the fire. But then I could not think anymore, and with the goblet in my hand, I sank onto my bed and at once fell sound asleep.

I slept until the evening stars came out and was awakened by the Christians’ songs and loud cries of joy. I was so dulled by sleep that I angrily called for Claudia to tell her to be quieter. I thought it was morning and that my clients and freedmen were waiting for me as usual. Not until I had rushed out into the courtyard did I remember the desolation and everything that had happened.

The flaring lights in the sky showed that the fires were still raging in the city, but nevertheless the worst seemed to be over. I picked out my own slaves from the crowd and praised them for their courage in remaining behind to risk their lives guarding my house. I urged the other slaves to go and find their masters at once to avoid being punished for desertion.

In this way I managed to reduce the crush in my garden a little, but several small traders and craftsmen who had lost everything they possessed begged to be allowed to stay for the time being, since they had nowhere to go. They had their old people and infants with them and I had not the heart to turn them out into the smoldering ruins of the city.

Part of the temple on the Capitoline could still be seen, its colonnade still undamaged against the flaring light of the sky. Where the ruins had had time to cool, people were risking their lives searching for melted-down metals. The same day, Tigellinus issued an order for the burned-out areas to be barricaded off by soldiers to avoid disorder in the city, not even the owners being permitted to return to the ruins of their houses.

In the menagerie my employees were forced to use spears and bows and arrows to keep the crowds at a distance from our water-tanks and provision stores. Several antelope and deer which had been free in their enclosures were stolen and slaughtered, but no one had dared touch the bison.

As all the thermal baths had been destroyed by the fire, Nero crowned his second poetry reading by bathing in one of the sacred pools. It was a risky venture, but he put his trust in his swimming ability and his physical strength, for the polluted water of the Tiber would not do for him. The people did not approve of this and whisperingly accused him of sullying the last of the drinking water, after first setting fire to Rome. He had, of course, been in Antium when the fire had broken out, but who among those who wished to stir up the people would take the trouble to remember that?

I have never admired Rome’s strength and organizing ability more than when I saw how swiftly her inhabitants were helped and how purposefully the clearing work and rebuilding of the city were undertaken. Cities from far and near were ordered to send household goods and clothes. Temporary buildings were erected for the homeless. Grain ships which were empty had to load up with rubble and unload it onto the swamps of Ostia.

The price of grain was lowered to two sesterces, the lowest anyone had ever heard of. I was not affected by this, for the State had guaranteed the grain merchants a higher price. Former hollows in the ground were filled in and slopes leveled. Nero himself took possession of the whole of the area between Palatine, Coelius and Esquiline, where he wished to build a new palace, but otherwise sites and wide streets were marked out in the ruined areas regardless of earlier plans of the city. Loans from the State treasury were granted to those who were able and wished to build their houses according to the new building regulations, while those who did not consider they were able to build within a definite time limit lost their right to do so later.

All houses had to be built of stone and the maximum height was three stories. The houses had to have a shady arcade facing the street and every courtyard had to have its own water cistern. Water supplies were arranged so that the wealthy could no longer use as much as they wished for their gardens and baths.

Naturally these necessary compulsory measures aroused general bitterness, and not only among the nobility. The people complained as well about the new wide and sunny streets, which though healthier than the former winding alleys gave no shade or cool in the heat of the summer, nor hiding places for lovers at night. It was feared that when lovers were driven indoors within four walls, then premature forced marriages would become much too numerous.

Cities and wealthy individuals in the provinces naturally rushed to send voluntary gifts of money for the rebuilding of Rome. Nevertheless, these did not go very far, and the result was increased taxes which drove both cities and individuals almost to the verge of bankruptcy.

The rebuilding of great circuses, temples and theaters according to Nero’s brilliant plans seemed destined to impoverish the entire world. And then his plan for a colossal building on a scale never before imagined was made public, and when it was possible to see what huge areas he intended to keep for his own use in the center of the city, the people’s discontent was finally aroused. He was to take over the whole of the area where the grain shops which had been knocked down by battering-rams had stood, so it was even easier to believe that he himself had set the city alight to acquire space for his Golden Palace.

Toward the autumn, several tremendous thunderstorms washed the worst of the soot from the ruins, and day and night, teams of oxen hauled building stone to Rome. The continuous noise and thumping from the building activity made life intolerable, and to hasten the work, even the traditional feast days were not celebrated. The people, used to entertainments and processions, free meals and circus shows, thought their lives had become dreary and outrageously strenuous.

The widespread destruction, the fear and the danger caused by the fire remained like a thorn in the side of every citizen. Even men of Consul rank related publicly how they had been turned out of their houses and how drunken soldiers, acting on instructions from the Emperor, had set fire to their properties before the fire had come anywhere near them.

Others told of how the Christian sect had demonstrated their joy quite openly and had sung hymns of thanksgiving during the fire, and ordinary people did not see any difference between Christian and Jew. Indignant references were made to the fact that the Jewish section of the city on the other side of the Tiber had been spared from the fire, as had certain other areas inhabited by the Jews in the city itself.

The isolation of the Jews from other people, their ten independent synagogues and the jurisdiction which their Council had over their own tribes, were things which had always irritated the people. The Jews did not even have to have an image of the Emperor in their prayer-houses, and innumerable accounts of their magic became common.

Although Nero was thus blamed, both openly and under cover all over the city, for being the original cause of the fire, the people realized only too well that as Emperor he could not be punished. To blame him gave everyone a malicious pleasure, but the misfortune Rome had endured was so great that some other expiation of guilt was demantled as well.

Members of noble and ancient families who had lost their souvenirs of the past as well as their wax death masks were Nero’s chief accusers. They received support from the newly rich, too, who feared they would lose their fortunes in taxes. The people, on the other hand, appreciated the speed and care with which their sufferings had been alleviated. Nor did they have to pay for this help.

Traditionally, the people looked upon the Emperor, who was also the people’s tribune for life, as the protector of their rights against the nobility, and his person as inviolable. So it was only malicious pleasure that was felt when the wealthy had to give up their city sites to the Emperor and had their privileges circumscribed. But the rancor against the Jews and their special position was of old standing.

It was said that the Jews had prophesied the fire. Many people remembered how Claudius in his day had banished the Jews from Rome. It was not long before it was implied for the first time and then said openly that it had been the Jews who had started the fire so that their own prophecy would be fulfilled and they could make capital out of the people’s distress.

Such talk was, of course, very dangerous, so several distinguished Jews turned to Poppaea to explain to her, and through her to Nero, the great difference between Jews and Christians. This was a difficult task, for Jesus of Nazareth was a Jew in any case, and the teaching that he was Christ had been spread through the meditation of Jews. The core of the Christians in Rome still consisted of Jews who had separated from the synagogues, even if the majority of Christians were no longer circumcised.

Poppaea looked upon herself as a devout woman, respecting the temple in Jerusalem and knowing the sacred legends of Abraham,

Moses and other holy Jews. But for safety’s sake, the Jews had said little to her about the Messiah who was prophesied in the scripts. Now she became confused by their expositions, so she summoned me to her rooms on Esquiline to give her a comprehensive explanation of what the Jews really wanted.

“They want you to settle their disputes,” I said in jest.

But the Jews were indignant.

“This is no joking matter,” they said. “The Christ of the Christians is not the Jewish Messiah. A curse on those who acknowledge him as Christ. We will have nothing to do with them, whether they are circumcised or not. It was these Christians who prophesied the day of judgment and sang thanksgivings during the fire. Their crimes are not ours.”

“The Christians are not criminals,” I said hurriedly. “They are humble and perhaps slightly foolish people. Presumably more stupid than you are. Don’t the Jews believe in the ultimate judgment and the kingdom of a thousand years?”

The Jews looked sadly at me and, after consulting together, they spoke again.

‘We do not talk with dogs on such matters,” they said. “All we wish to do is to give an assurance that the guilt of the Christians has nothing to do with the Jews. We are prepared to believe any evil of them.”

I thought the conversation was taking an unpleasant turn.

“I can see in your troubled eyes, Poppaea, the signs of a headache coming,” I said hurriedly. “Let us briefly summarize the matter. The Jews deny all connections with the Christians. They look upon themselves as devout. They believe ill of the Christians, good of themselves. That is all.”

When I saw the bitter countenance of the Jews, I went on: “Perhaps there are among the Christians some former criminals and rogues who have reformed and have had their sins forgiven. Their king is said to have come especially to seek out the sinful and not the proud. But in general the Christians are meek and peaceable, they feed the poor, help widows and comfort prisoners. I. know nothing evil of them.”

Poppaea was curious.

‘What is this guilt they mention?” she asked. “There’s something suspicious in all this which I don’t understand.”

“You must have heard the absurd rumors that have been spreading among the people about the cause of our national disaster,” I said sarcastically. “I think the Jews are now trying to explain in a roundabout way and somewhat belatedly that it was not they who set fire to Rome, They consider that such a statement would be as irrational as to accuse the Emperor of the same thing,”

But my sarcasm was wasted. Poppaea was much too afraid of the magic of the Jews. Her face brightened at once.

“Now I see!” she cried. “Go in peace, you holy men. I shall not allow anyone to suspect you of anything evil. You did right to inform me that you do not acknowledge the Christians as Jews.”

The Jews blessed her in the name of their god Hallelujah and they left.

“You realize that they hate the Christians out of envy,” I said when they had gone. “The Christians have won over many of their adherents and both Jerusalem and the synagogues have thus lost many gifts.”

“If the Jews have reason to hate the Christians,” said Poppaea, “then the Christians must be both dangerous and harmful. You yourself said that they are criminals and rogues.”

And she would not listen to any more explanations, for there would be no room for them in her lovely head. I think she went straight to Nero and told him that it was the dangerous Christian sect who had set fire to Rome and that the sect consisted of nothing but criminals.

Nero was pleased to hear this and at once ordered Tigellinus to see what could be found to substantiate this accusation. But the Jews were not to be involved in the investigation, for their faith had only apparent similarities to the dangerous teachings of the Christians.

An investigation of this kind should have been undertaken by the City Prefect, but Nero put more trust in Tigellinus. In addition, the Christian faith stemmed from the East and its adherents were mostly immigrants from the East. Tigellinus was not interested in religious matters. He simply obeyed orders and turned to the lowest orders in Rome in his researches.

This was not a difficult task. In a single afternoon his minions rounded up about thirty suspected men who willingly admitted that they were Christians and were very surprised when they found themselves immediately arrested and taken to the dungeons of the Praetorium. They were sternly asked whether they had set fire to Rome the previous summer, and this they denied emphatically. Then they were asked whether they knew any other Christians. In all innocence, they gave as many names as they could remember. All the soldiers had to do was to go and fetch the men and women from their homes, and they came without protest.

By nightfall, about a thousand Christians had been rounded up, mostly people from the lowest classes. The soldiers said that all they had had to do was to go into any crowd and call out a question as to whether there were any Christians there, and then these madmen just gave themselves up to be arrested.

Tigellinus was worried by the large numbers of people he had to interrogate. As there was not room for them all, he thought it best to thin them out a little. At first he released all Jews who could show that they were circumcised. He spoke firmly to two members of the Noble Order of Knights who had come with the crowd, and then released them for what he thought was a sensible reason, that one could hardly accuse a Roman knight of setting fire to the city.

Several more well-to-do citizens, upset by the kind of people they had landed among, said they were sure it was all some mistake and offered the Prefect gifts to clear up the misunderstanding. These Tigellinus willingly released, for he thought the branded criminals and deserter slaves were the most guilty. He wished to undertake a thorough weeding out of the whole of the underworld of Rome which now after the fire was making the city unsafe at night. Such was his conception of the Christians.

At first the prisoners were calm, appealing in the name of Christ as they talked among themselves and not understanding what they were accused of. But when they saw people being sorted out and released at random and when they heard from others that everyone was being asked whether they had taken part in setting fire to Rome or knew anything about it, they began to be frightened and even distrust each other.

The separating of the circumcised from the rest roused the suspicion that the followers of Jacob, the supporters of Jerusalem, had had something to do with the matter. These people had always kept themselves apart from the Christians, following their own Jewish customs and looking on themselves as more devout than others. Violent disputes also broke out between the supporters of Cephas and those of Paul. The result was that the remaining prisoners were encouraged to denounce Christians of other kinds as much as possible. Even those who kept calm were drawn into this envy and vengefulness, and they too denounced others. There were also some who reasoned sensibly and considered it would be best to denounce as many people as possible, and highly placed people as well.

The more we are, they thought, the more impossible it will be to hold a trial. Paul was released. Tigellinus will soon come to his senses when he sees how many and how influential we are.

During the night, whole families and relatives had been arrested in this way all over Rome, so swiftly that the Praetorians could only just keep up.

Tigellinus received a gloomy awakening in the morning after his night of wine and boys. His eyes were met by the sight of the Praetorians’ huge parade ground filled with well-dressed people humbly sitting in families on the ground. Long lists of people who had been denounced were shown to him and he was asked whether house searches and arrests were also to be made of people with the rank of senator and Consul.

At first he did not believe all these reports, but said that the Christian criminals had out of sheer ill-will accused honorable citizens. So he walked threateningly around the parade ground with his whip in his hand, asking here and there: “Are you really Christians?” All of them admitted gladly and trustfully that they believed in Christ.

They were such respectable and innocent people that he did not have the nerve to give them as much as a flick of his whip, but decided that some kind of fearful mistake had been made. He and his colleagues calculated with the help of their lists that there were about twenty thousand people from all walks of life still waiting to be arrested. To punish that number seemed insane.

Rumors about the mass arrests of Christians had of course spread all over Rome. Tigellinus was soon besieged by hordes of envious and malicious people who all wished to tell him that with their own eyes they had seen the Christians gathering on the hillsides during the fire, singing songs of praise and predicting the fire which was about to fall on the city from the sky.

In the Praetorium, complete chaos reigned. The people who had been billeted in emergency housing on Mars field took the opportunity to break into homes they knew were Christian, mistreat others and plunder their shops, without differentiating between Christian and Jew.

Unhindered by the police, excited crowds arrived at the Praetorium dragging bloodstained and ill-treated Christians and Jews with them to have them charged, now they had heard that the fire-raisers had been exposed. Tigellinus still had sufficient wits left to speak firmly to these people, forbidding them to take the law into their own hands regardless of their understandable rage, and he assured them the Emperor would punish the guilty in a way that their terrible crimes deserved.

Then he sent the Praetorians out to restore order in the city. During these violent hours of the morning, the Christians were more secure within the walls of the Praetorium than they would have been in their own homes.

Since early in the morning, frightened refugees had been gathering in my house and garden on Avendne, in the hope that my rank and position would give them some security. The neighbors behaved threateningly by shouting epithets and hurling stones over the garden walls. I dared not arm my slaves, or the Christians would have been accused of armed resistance as well, so I ordered the entrance to be guarded as closely as possible. I had been put in an unpleasant position. The only fortunate thing was that Claudia had finally agreed to go with the servants to my country property in Caere, to give birth to our child there.

My anxiety over her made me sensitive and not willing to be too hard on her beloved Christians, in case I brought misfortune on her delivery. After thinking over the various possibilities, I spoke to them seriously and advised them to leave the city at once, for it was evident that some stern indictment of the Christians was coming.

But the Christians protested that no one could prove that they had done anything wrong; on the contrary, they had tried to avoid all vices and sins and lead a quiet life. They had in their human weakness perhaps sinned against Christ, but the Emperor or the State they had not injured in any way. So they wished to appoint lawyers who would defend their imprisoned brothers and sisters, and they themselves wished to take food and drink to them in their distress. At that time it was still not clear what an enormous number of people had been arrested during the night.

To be rid of them, I finally promised them money and a refuge at my properties in Praeneste and Caere. But they would not agree until I had promised to go to Tigellinus myself and defend the Christians as best I could. I had held the rank of Praetor and the Christians would find me much more use to them than they would the somewhat dubious poor-lawyers. Finally they left my house hesitantly, still talking loudly together, so that my garden became deserted.

Meanwhile the arrested Christians on the parade ground had had time to organize themselves and gather around their leaders, who after consulting each other decided to forget their internal differences and put their trust in Christ alone. He would be sure to send his spirit to defend them. They were all frightened by the cries of pain which could be heard coming from the dungeons and they consoled themselves in their anxiety with prayers and songs of hope.

Among them were several people who knew the laws and went from man to man and woman to woman, comforting them by telling them of the Imperial precedent in Paul’s case. The most important thing now was that no one, even if threatened with the worst forms of torture, should confess to being guilty of fire-raising. Such a false confession could be devastating to all Christians. Persecution and suffering for the sake of the name of Christ had been foretold. They could acknowledge Christ, but nothing else.

When I arrived at the Praetorium, I was astounded by the number of people who had been arrested. At first I was reassured, for not even a madman could believe that all these people had committed arson. I met Tigellinus at an appropriate moment, for he was temporarily completely confused and had no idea what to do. In fact he rushed up to me and shouted at me that I had given Nero an inaccurate account of the Christians, for hardly any of them seemed to be criminals.

I denied this emphatically and told him I had never said a single word to Nero about the Christians.

“I know nothing but good of them,” I said. “They are quite harmless and at their worst squabble amongst themselves on questions of faith, but they never have anything to do with State matters or even the people’s entertainments. They don’t even go to the theater. It’s madness to accuse such people of the burning of Rome.”

Tigellinus gave me a frightening grin, unrolled one of his lists and read out my own name.

“You must know all about it,” he said scornfully, “as you’ve been denounced as being a Christian. Your wife too, and all your household, but no names mentioned.”

I felt as if a heavy cloak of lead had fallen over me and I could not speak. But Tigellinus burst out laughing and hit me with the scroll.

“You don’t think I take such reports seriously, do you?” he said. “I know you and your reputation. And even if I should suspect you, I could never suspect Sabina. Whoever reported you didn’t even know you’d divorced her. No, they’re hardened criminals who out of sheer ill-will wish to demonstrate that noble circles in Rome have also been drawn into their superstition.

“But the conspiracy seems to be surprisingly large after all,” he went on. “What puzzles me most is that they all voluntarily and gladly admit that they worship Christ as their god. I can only imagine that they’ve been bewitched. But I must put an end to such witchcraft. When they see that the guilty are punished, I’m sure they’ll be frightened and quickly denounce this madness of theirs.”

“Perhaps you’d be wise,” I said carefully, “to destroy your lists. What do you mean by the guilty?”

“You’re probably right,” said Tigellinus. “Believe it or not, there are both Consuls and senators reported as alleged Christians. It would be better to keep such insults secret, otherwise our men of standing will be shamed in the eyes of the people. I don’t think I’ll even say anything to Nero about such insane things.”

He looked at me penetratingly, with a cheerful glint in his ruthless eyes. I guessed he would keep the lists and use them for blackmailing people, for of course every important man in Rome would be prepared to pay anything to prevent that kind of stain on him. Again I asked him what he had meant by the guilty.

“I’ve more than enough confessions,” he boasted.

When I refused to believe it, he took me down into the cellars and showed me, one after another, his whimpering and half-dead victims.

“Of course, I’ve only had branded criminals and deserting slaves tortured, as well as one or two others I thought were holding something back,” he explained. “A thorough beating was enough for most of them, but as you see, we’ve had to use red-hot irons and iron claws in some cases. They’re pretty tough, these Christians. Some of them died without confessing anything, but just shouted for help from Christ. Some confessed as soon as they saw the instruments.”

“What did they confess?” I asked.

“That they had set fire to Rome on orders from Christ, of course,” said Tigellinus insolently, looking straight at me. But when he saw my disapproval, he added: “Or whatever you like. One or two vaguely admitted to setting fire to houses together with the soldiers. I haven’t in fact discovered anything more criminal or conspiratorial than that. But several men who otherwise look quite worthy have voluntarily admitted that they thought that their god had punished Rome with the fire because of the city’s sins. Isn’t that enough? And others have told me that they had expected to see their god come down from the sky as the fires were burning, to judge all those who do not acknowledge Christ. That sort of thing sounds like a secret conspiracy against the State. So the Christians must be punished for their superstition, no matter whether they set the fire going with their own hands or whether they had unknowingly agreed to the whole cruel plan.”

I pointed to a young girl who lay bound with leather straps on a bloodstained stone bench. Her mouth was bleeding and her breasts and limbs were so torn by the iron claws that she was clearly dying from loss of blood.

“What has that innocent girl confessed to?” I asked.

Tigellinus rubbed the palms of his hands together and avoided my eyes.

“Try to understand me a little,” he said. “All morning I’ve had to work with dreadful coppersmiths. I must get at least a little pleasure out of all this. But I was really curious to know what she had to confess as well. Well, I got nothing out of her except that some great man or other would soon appear and judge me and throw me into the fire as a punishment for my evil doings. A vengeful girl. They all seem to talk about fire for that matter, as if they were especially attracted to it. There are people who find pleasure in watching fires. Otherwise Nero would hardly have chosen just that night to sing from the Maecenas tower.”

I pretended to look more closely at the girl, although it made me feel sick to do so.

“Tigellinus,” I said deliberately, “this girl looks like a Jewess.”

Tigellinus was appalled and gripped my arm.

“Don’t tell Poppaea, whatever you do,” he said. “How in all the names of the underworld could I tell a Jewish girl from an ordinary one? They’ve no signs of recognition on their bodies as the men have. But she was definitely a Christian. She wouldn’t denounce her madness, although I promised to let her go alive if she abandoned such superstitions. She must have been bewitched.”

Fortunately, after this dreadful incident Tigellinus decided to stop torturing his victims and had them brought back to life again so that they could go through with the punishment the Emperor meted out to them for arson. We went back to his own private interrogation room, where he was told that Senator Pudens Publicola, an old man of the Valerian family, had arrived together with an elderly Jew and was demanding loudly to speak to Tigellinus.

Tigellinus, unpleasantly surprised, scratched his head and looked helplessly at me.

“Pudens is a mild and silly old man,” he said. “What can he be angry with me about? Perhaps I’ve gone and arrested one of his clients by mistake. Stay here and help me, as you know about the Jews.”

Senator Pudens came in with his white old head trembling with rage. To my surprise, it was Cephas who was with him, his worn shepherd’s stave in his hand and his bearded face red with agitation. The third was a youth called Cletus, pale with fear, whom I had seen once before acting as interpreter for Cephas.

Tigellinus rose and began greeting Pudens respectfully, but the old man rushed up to him, aimed a kick at him with his purple boot and began abusing him.

“Tigellinus, you damned horse dealer, fornicator and pederast!” he shouted. “What do you think you’re up to? What are these false accusations against the Christians? How far do you think you can go with your insolence?”

Tigellinus humbly tried to explain that he never mixed his private life with his office of Praetorian Prefect. He was not the only pederast in Rome and he was not in the least ashamed that he had been a horse› breeder during the days of his exile.

“So stop insulting me, my dear Pudens,” he said. “Think of your dignity and that you are addressing me as a civil servant and not a private individual. If you have any charge to bring, I will listen with patience to your case.”

Cephas raised his arms and began to speak loudly in Aramaic without even looking in my direction, as if he had turned to a stranger in the same room. Tigellinus followed the direction of Cephas’ gaze.

“Who is this Jew?” he said. “And what is he saying and who is he talking to? I presume it is not sorcery, and that someone has seen to it that he has no magic charms or dangerous amulets.”

By pulling at Tigellinus’ arm, I managed to get him to listen to me.

“He’s the leader of the Christians,” I explained, “the famous Cephas. He’s supposed to have raised people from the dead and performed miracles which make Simon the magician. in his time seem like a beginner by comparison. He’s been under Senator Pudens’ protection ever since he cured the senator’s illness.”

Tigellinus stuck out two fingers like horns to ward off the evil spirits.

“He is a Jew,” he said firmly. “I’ll have nothing to do with him. Tell him to cease his sorcery and go away and take his magic stave with him. Otherwise I’ll be angry.”

Senator Pudens had by this time calmed down.

“The much respected Cephas,” he said, “has himself come to answer for all the accusations you have invented against the Christians. He asks that you release the others and take him instead. He is their shepherd. All the others, from the smallest to the greatest, are but his sheep.”

Tigellinus started back against the wall, his brown face turning pale and his lips trembling.

“Take him away,” he said uncertainly, “before I have him whipped. Tell him it would be best if he left the city altogether. On the Emperor’s orders, I am investigating the Christian conspiracy to destroy Rome. Fire-raisers have already confessed, but I must admit that many respectable Christians perhaps did not know about this terrible plan. Perhaps that old magician with his unpleasant stave did not know either.”

Pudens listened with his mouth open and the loose skin around his chin quivering. Then he shook his head.

“Everyone knows,” he said reproachfully, “that it was the Emperor himself who set fire to Rome to get the sites between Coelius and Esquiline for his mad building plans. But Nero is greatly mistaken if he thinks he can put the blame on innocent people. May he guard against the anger of the people if this becomes known.”

Tigellinus looked around in fear that the walls might be listening.

“You’re an old man, Pudens,” he then said warningly. “Your head is confused. Don’t even let such gossip pass your lips in jest. Or are you a Christian yourself and involved in it all through your muddleheaded-ness? Be careful. Your name is on the lists, though naturally I don’t put much store by such accusations. A member of the Senate can’t be a Christian.”

He tried to laugh but stared steadily at Cephas, starting every time Cephas made a movement. Pudens remembered his rank and position and realized he had gone too far.

“Well, perhaps there are fanatics and zealots among the Christians,” he said, “and even false prophets too. Perhaps a wolf has managed to get among them in sheep’s clothing. But Cephas will answer for them all at the public trial. I only hope he doesn’t, at the behest of the spirit, speak words which frighten Nero himself.”

Tigellinus also calmed down a little.

“I bear you no ill-will,” he said. “I’m always ready to meet people half way. But your Jewish magician cannot answer for others in this case. He has the same rights and special position as all the other cursed Jews. Nero has expressly forbidden me to drag the Jews into this, for not even Hercules himself would be able to tell the faithful Jews from the heretics in their Aegean stables. I think Rome would be a considerably better city without the Jews. But that is just my personal opinion and is neither here nor there. I must obey the Emperor.”

I briefly explained Tigellinus’ legal view to Cletus and he translated it for Cephas, whose face again began to turn red. At first Cephas tried to talk in a controlled manner but then he became so excited that he started thundering out his words. Cletus tried to interpret and I too intervened with my views and Pudens spoke according to his own lights, so that at one time we were all talking at once and no one could make out what the other was trying to say.

Finally Tigellinus raised both hands, as if fending us off, and demantled silence.

“Enough,” he said. “Out of respect for your white hairs, Pudens, and to win the favors of this powerful magician, I am willing to release ten or twenty, or shall we say a hundred Christians whom he may select himself. He can go out on to the parade ground and choose. I have too many Christians anyhow and shall be only too glad to be rid of some in a sensible way.”

But Cephas did not approve of this reasonable suggestion, although’ he gave it some thought. He stubbornly insisted that it was he who should be arrested and all the others set free. It was a senseless demand, but on thinking it over, I realized it was a wise one from his point of view. If he picked out one or two hundred people at his own discretion from that huge crowd, it would cause worse suspicion than ever among the Christians and at a moment when the spokesmen for the different sides had come to some measure of agreement.

Our negotiations reached deadlock, and finally, in spite of his fear of magic, Tigellinus lost patience when he saw that his authority was being undermined. He rushed out of the room and we could hear him barking out an order to the guards on duty to drive the presumptuous Jew out of the camp area with a scourge.

“But don’t use more violence than necessary,” he said, “and under no circumstances may you lay as much as a little finger on Senator Pudens. He is a Publicolian.”

But Tigellinus found it difficult to make the Praetorians obey, for some of them had heard Paul speak when they had been guarding him and had felt respect for the Christians ever since. Now they warned their friends, and Tigellinus could not make them take the responsibility, for he himself was horribly afraid of Cephas’ reputation for magic. Even the centurion in the Praetorium warned him seriously against touching such a holy man.

Finally Tigellinus was forced to promise a whole month’s extra pay to whoever would drive Cephas out of the camp and ensure he stayed outside the walls. In this way he managed to find five rough men who bolstered each other’s courage by saying that they did not fear the forces of the underworld. After tossing back a measure of wine each, they crowded into the interrogation room and began to drive Cephas out with rough lashes from their scourges.

Pudens could not interfere, for not even a senator has the right to countermand a military order. He could do nothing but abuse and threaten Tigellinus, who for safety’s sake kept at a distance and urged the Praetorians on with loud cries.

The lashes of the lead-tipped whip-thongs crashed down on Cephas’ head and shoulders, but the towering old man only straightened his broad shoulders, smiled gently, blessed the soldiers and asked them to strike harder, for it was a joy to him to suffer in the name of Christ.

To lighten their task he took off his coarse cloak, and so that it would not become spattered with blood, handed it to Senator Pudens to hold. Pudens would have been pleased to hold it, but naturally I could not let him do that because of his rank so I took the cloak over my arm instead.

Crazed with fear, the soldiers lashed at Cephas as hard as they could and accidentally injured each other with their blows. The blood flowed down Cephas’ face and into his gray beard, his tunic soon disintegrated into rags, and blood spattered onto the floor and walls so that Pudens and I had to draw back. But the harder the soldiers whipped him, the more blissfully Cephas smiled, occasionally crying out with pleasure and bidding Christ bless them for furnishing him with such great joy.

As Tigellinus watched the cruel scene, he was more than ever convinced Cephas was a terrifying wizard, even worse than Apollonius from Tyana, for he did not even feel physical pain. He shouted at the soldeirs to throw down the scourge and carry Cephas out.

They were afraid to touch him, but the whole affair had begun to affect their honor as soldiers. Encouraged by the laughter and jeers of their friends, they swore loudly and grabbed hold of Cephas, making him lose his balance although he struggled like a bull, while avoiding striking or hurting the soldiers.

They managed to carry him out through the arcade to the marble steps. There he struggled free from their grip and promised to walk of his own accord to the gateway if they scourged him all the way. The soldiers willingly let. him go, saying that their arms were paralyzed by his strength and their lashes with the scourge had lost their sting.

The arrested Christians rushed up unhindered to Cephas, jubilantly crying out his name and kneeling in long lines on each side of his path in respect for him. He told them to endure in their distress, smiling joyously as he raised his arms in blessing and cried out the name of Christ. The prisoners were seized with devout trust and courage as they watched the bleeding Cephas being whipped out of the camp, and lost their mistrust of each other.

Cephas was determined to stay outside the gateway and wait there, neither eating nor drinking, but Pudens finally persuaded him to give way, handing him over to his following and telling them to take him swiftly and secretly back to his house. He allowed Cephas to use his private sedan for this purpose, although Cephas would have preferred to go on foot, but he was swaying from emotion and loss of blood. Pudens turned back once again to negotiate with Tigellinus in a reasonable Roman manner.

When Tigellinus saw the Christians loudly murmuring and joyously crowding into the Praetorium courtyard, he came to his senses and ordered them to be driven back to the enclosure on the parade ground, giving orders to the nearest prisoners to clean the spots of blood from the floor and walls of the private interrogation room.

The Christians looked at each other in bewilderment, for they had neither brushes nor water vessels. Tigellinus burst out laughing. “You can lick the floor if you want to, for all I care,” he said. “All that matters is that it is clean.”

So the Christians knelt down and carefully wiped off every drop of blood with their clothes and kerchiefs, for they considered that it was consecrated to their god and reminded them of the suffering of Christ.

Being a sensible man, Pudens tried to save what he could and boldly appealed to Tigellinus to stand by his promise that a hundred Christians were to be selected from among the prisoners. Tigellinus wished to be in his favor because of his reputable descent and promised this willingly.

“As far as I am concerned, you can take two hundred if you want to,” he said. “From those who deny that they had anything to do with setting fire to the city.”

Pudens went out quickly to the parade ground before Tigellinus had time to regret his promise, which he had made out of sheer relief. But Tigellinus stopped to think sufficiently long to call out after him, “That’ll be one hundred sesterces in my private purse for every one of them.”

He knew that Pudens was not a wealthy man and hardly managed to keep himself above the income limit for senators. Emperor Claudius had once in his day put down the difference from his own pocket so that Pudens would not have to leave the Senate on the grounds of poverty. So Tigellinus did not think he could press him for a larger sum.

From the many Christians, Pudens chose men who he knew had been close to Cephas, and women who had children at home or else were in a hurry to get back to their households. He thought it unnecessary to select any girls as he presumed they would not be charged with arson, and none of the women was threatened with danger or punishment, as no legal jurisdiction was possible in view of the meager evidence.

So he contented himself with consoling and encouraging his own friends among the Christians and assuring them that they as respected men would be certain to be released. There was no great crush around him, and in fact some of the people he picked out refused to leave their fellow believers, preferring to share their trials.

Anyhow, Pudens took over two hundred people to be released and bargained with Tigellinus so that in the end the latter looked between his fingers insofar as the final total was concerned, and contented himself with a token sum of only ten thousand sesterces for the lot.

I was so moved by his compliance that I asked if I too might redeem some people whom I recognized as members of Paul’s following in Rome. I thought it was important that some of Paul’s followers should also be released, for the sake of unity among the Jews, else there might be malicious talk afterwards if those in Cephas’ favor received preferential treatment.

These people considered Paul’s teaching unnecessarily involved, while they who used to listen to Paul glorified in understanding the divine mysteries better than others. I felt content and was pleased at the thought of boasting to Claudia of how I had helped the Christians in their distress without gain to myself.

Tigellinus did not even demand redemption fees for them, for he needed my help for an impartial account of the Christian superstition at the court. He also held me in some respect because I had shown no fear of Cephas and had remained in his presence. He expressed his gratitude over this in a few reluctant words.

He himself still retained a healthy fear of Cephas, for the soldiers who had seized Cephas had completely lost the use of their arms. They complained pitifully of their paralysis, which they said was due to the Prefect’s orders to lay hands on a magician. I think they deliberately exaggerated their troubles to get more money. At least, I did not hear later that they had suffered any lasting consequences.

Tigellinus now considered himself ready to put the matter before Nero. He asked me to go with him, for I had shown myself knowledgeable and personally knew the Christians. He thought it was clearly my duty, for I had misled Nero by giving Poppaea inaccurate information about them. He also thought it would do no harm that I personally felt compassion for the Christians and did not wish to believe all the evil he thought he had found as a result of his interrogations. In this way the presentation would be more impartial.

We rode to Esquiline, for to speed the building work after the widening and straightening of the streets, both vehicles and horses were now permitted within the city walls in the daytime. Nero was in the best of moods. He and his suite had just enjoyed a good meal, drunk wine and had cooled themselves with a cold bath to be able to continue eating and drinking until the evening-an occasional habit of his.

He was enormously pleased with himself for discovering what he thought a politically excellent method of diverting the people’s attention from himself to the Christian criminals and thus silencing evil gossip. He was not at all disturbed by Tigellinus’ report on the huge number of detained Christians, for Nero adhered to his idea that they were nothing but loose people, rabble and criminals.

“It’s just a matter of finding a punishment to fit the tearfulness of their crime,” he said. “The more severe their punishment, the more people will accept their guilt. At the same time we can arrange plays and shows for the people of a kind which no one else has ever offered. We can’t use the wooden amphitheater, for the cellars there are still in use as emergency housing, and the great circus lies in ashes. It’ll have to be my circus on Vatican. It’s a bit cramped, of course, but we can arrange festivities for the people and a free feast in the evening in my gardens alongside, below Janiculus.”

I was not sure what he had in mind, but was bold enough to remark that first it would be necessary to hold a public trial and that probably not many people could be charged with arson on the evidence at present available.

“Why public?” asked Nero. “The Christians are criminals and slave runaways without citizenship. There’s no need for a hundred-man college to sit in judgment on such people. A decree by the Prefect will do.”

Tigellinus explained that a surprising number of the arrested people were citizens and no charge could be brought against them except that they had admitted to being Christians, and that it was difficult for him because he could not keep five thousand people on the Praetorium parade ground for several days.

The arrested citizens also seemed to have sufficient funds to be able to prolong the trial by appealing to the Emperor, even if they were sentenced in the ordinary court. So the Emperor must decide beforehand whether confessing to being a Christian was sufficient grounds to be sentenced by the court.

“Did you say five thousand?” said Nero. “No one has ever yet used so many people at once in a show or even in the greatest triumphs. I think it would be enough with just one show. We can’t have a people’s feast lasting several days. That would just delay the building work even more. Would you be able to have them marched immediately through the city to the other side and lodge them in my circus? Then the people will have a preview of the show and can give expression to their anger over these terrible crimes. As far as I am concerned, they can tear a few of them to pieces on the way, as long as you see to it that there is not too much disorder.”

I saw that Nero still had no real conception of the whole matter or its proportions.

“Don’t you understand?” I said. “Most of them are respectable and honorable people, girls and boys among them, whom no one could suspect of any evil. Several of them wear togas. You’re not seriously thinking of letting the people insult the Roman toga?”

Nero’s face clouded and he peered at me for a moment, while his thick neck and fat chin stiffened.

“You obviously doubt my powers of understanding, Manilianus,” he said, showing his displeasure by using my surname. But then he burst out laughing as he immediately had another idea. “Tigellinus can have them marched through Rome naked,” he suggested, “and then the people will have even more fun and no one will know who is respectable and who isn’t.”

Then he shook his head.

“Their apparent innocence,” he went on, “is only on the surface. My own experience has taught me to doubt those who mask their evil with external piety and virtuous habits. I know so much about the Christian superstition that the severest punishment is too mild for their ill deeds. Do you want to hear?”

He looked around inquiringly. I knew it was best to keep silent when he wished to speak, so we all asked him to continue.

“The Christian superstition,” said Nero, “is so shameful and horrifying that such a thing could only have originated in the East. They practice horrible magic and threaten to burn up the whole world one day. They recognize each other by secret signs and they assemble in the evenings behind locked doors to eat human flesh and to drink blood. For that purpose they collect children which people have left in their care and sacrifice them at their secret meetings. When they’ve eaten and drunk, they fornicate together in every natural and unnatural form. They even have intercourse with animals, at least with sheep, according to what I have heard.”

He looked triumphantly around. I think it annoyed Tigellinus that Nero in this way had forestalled him before he himself had had time to present his summary of the results of his interrogations. Perhaps he also felt the need to speak on his own behalf, for anyhow he spoke now with contempt.

“You can’t try them simply for fornication,” he said. “I know people quite near here who also assemble behind locked doors to fornicate together.”

Nero burst out laughing.

“It’s quite another matter,” he said, “if people assemble in full agreement for their own pleasure and to study such pastimes. But don’t tell Poppaea everything, for she isn’t quite so tolerant as one might wish. But the Christians do such things as a kind of conspiracy in honor of their god, hoping for all kinds of advantages over other people. They think anything is permissible to them, and the day they come to power, they’ll judge everyone else. That’s an idea which could be politically dangerous if it weren’t so ridiculous.”

We did not join in his somewhat strained laughter.

“The cellars under the Vatican circus are much too small for five thousand people,” Tigellinus put in then. “I still think that it’s unnecessary to drag citizens into the matter. I suggest that I am allowed to release all those who honesdy give an assurance that they will disclaim the Christian superstition and who are otherwise honorable citizens.”

“But then there won’t be many left to punish,” protested Nero. “Obviously they’ll all do that if they’re given the chance. They are all part of the conspiracy in the same way, even if they didn’t take a direct part in the burning. If I think there are far too many, which seems very unlikely when one thinks of the fearful crime they’ve committed, then I’ll let them draw lots among themselves. That’s what they do in war when a legion has suffered an ignominious defeat. Corbulo was given permission to have every tenth man executed in Armenia, with the help of lots. They turned out to be heroes and cowards alternately. I suggest that you draw lots for every tenth person to be set free. They’ll presumably be sufficiently frightened by the others’ punishment for the Christian superstition to vanish from Rome forever.”

Tigellinus remarked that no one had yet accused him of exaggerated mildness in his office.

“My views are purely practical,” he said. “To execute five thousand people in an artistic way, as you wish to, is not possible in a single day in that cramped circus of yours, even if we filled all the gardens with crucifixes. I wash my hands of the whole affair. If you do not wish for an artistic show, then of course a mass execution can be arranged although I suspect it won’t be much of a pleasure to the people. They’ll get bored. There’s nothing so monotonous as continuous executions all day long.”

We were all so appalled by his comments that no one said a word. We had all imagined something like twenty or so of the Christians being executed in some cruel way and the rest performing in some kind of show.

Petronius shook his head and said hastily, “No, my lord, that would not be in good taste.”

“I don’t want you, and perhaps myself too, accused of ignoring the rights of citizenship,” went on Tigellinus. “We must strike while the iron is hot. This is a matter of some urgency. I have ten or so genuine confessions but they’ll not suffice for a public trial, and all those who have confessed won’t be of any use any longer to show in public.”

He was troubled by our looks, and added irritably, “Some of them died trying to escape. That often happens.”

Again I had the feeling of a heavy cloak falling over me, but I had to speak out.

“Imperator,” I said, “I know the Christians and their customs and habits. They are peaceful people who keep to themselves without interfering in matters of State, and they avoid all evil things. I know nothing but good of them. They are foolish perhaps in their belief that a certain Jesus of Nazareth, whom they call Christ and who was crucified during Pontius Pilate’s procuratorship in Judaea, will come and free them of all sin and give them eternal life. But foolishness in itself is not an offense.”

“That’s it, that they believe they’ll be forgiven their worst crimes because everything is permissible for them,” said Nero impatiendy. “If that isn’t dangerous teaching, then I should like to know what is a danger to the State.”

Some said hesitantly that the danger from the Christians was perhaps exaggerated by rumors. If some of them were punished, then the others would be frightened and disclaim their superstition.

“In fact they hate all mankind,” protested Tigellinus triumphantly, “and believe that their Christ will appear and condemn you, my lord, and also me and my immorality, to be burned alive as punishment for our evil deeds.”

Nero laughed and shrugged his shoulders. To his credit, it must be said that he did not mind abuse directed at his own personal weaknesses but used to treat those who composed malicious verses about him with good humor.

But he looked up quickly when Tigellinus turned to me reproachfully and said, “Wasn’t it you, Minutus, who said that the Christians don’t even like theatrical performances?”

“Do they hate the theater?” said Nero, rising slowly to his feet, for abuse of his singing he would not tolerate. “In that case, they are truly enemies of mankind and deserve all punishment. We’ll charge them with arson and with being enemies of mankind. I don’t think anyone will come to their defense.”

I rose, my knees trembling violently.

“My lord,” I protested stubbornly, “I have myself occasionally partaken in the Christians’ sacred meals. I can swear on oath that nothing improper happened at them. They took wine, bread and other ordinary food. They say that these represent the flesh and blood of Christ. After the meal, they kiss each other, but there is nothing wrong in that.”

Nero waved my words away as if brushing off a fly.

“Don’t annoy me, Manilianus,” he said. “We all know that you’re not exactly a genius, even if you have some good qualities. The Christians have pulled wool over your eyes.”

“Exactly,” said Tigellinus. “Our Minutus is much too credulous. The Christian magicians have distorted his eyes. I myself was in some considerable difficulties during the interrogations. Outwardly they show a meek face, seem respectable and entice the poor by offering them free meals. But whoever pursues their mysteries exposes himself to their magic.”

The only thing we achieved was that Nero realized that two or three thousand prisoners would suffice for his show, and he gave Tigellinus authority to release those who disclaimed their superstition as long as there would be sufficient members left for a trial.

“Let us meanwhile think up something pleasant to amuse the people,” he suggested. “Tigellinus, you must see to it that there are also some healthy girls and youths for the theater performance and not just branded slaves.”

When I went back to the Praetorian camp with Tigellinus, I thought that Nero was considering some funny and shameful theater performance as a punishment for most of the Christians, and then releasing them after a few had been executed to satisfy the people.

Tigellinus said nothing. He had his own plans, although I did not know it at the time.

We went out on to the parade ground. The prisoners were exhausted by the sun, for it was a hot autumn day. They had received food and water from the city, but it had not sufficed for them all. Many who were hungry and thirsty asked to be allowed to provide themselves with food, as the laws and custom permitted.

When Tigellinus caught sight of a respectable man in a toga, he stopped and spoke to him in a friendly way.

“Did you take part in setting Rome on fire?” he asked, and on receiving a negative reply, he said, “Have you been punished for any shameful crime before?” When he had received a satisfactory reply, he then cried out delightedly, “Good! You look like an honorable man. You can go free if you promise to disclaim the Christians’ pernicious beliefs. I suppose you’ve got a hundred sesterces to pay for the costs of arrest?”

But he was unpleasantly surprised, and to tell the truth, I was surprised too, to hear one after the other calmly reply that they could not deny Christ, who had saved them from their sins and called them to his kingdom. Otherwise they said they would be glad to go home and pay fifty, a hundred, or even five hundred sesterces to cover the expense they had caused the State.

Finally Tigellinus was in such a hurry to achieve something that he turned a deaf ear and muttered the question: “You forswear Christ then, don’t you?” and answered every denial with a hasty: “Good, then you can go.” He even ceased demanding bribes, as long as the more respectable prisoners would agree to go away. But many of them were so stubborn that they secredy turned back to the parade ground and hid themselves among the other Christians.

Meanwhile Tigellinus had the Praetorians on duty in die city spread it about that he was thinking of having the people responsible for the fire of Rome marched right through the ruins along the via Sacra to the other side of the river, where they would be detained in Nero’s circus. He let it be known to the guards that he had no objections if one or two prisoners were allowed to escape into the crowd on the way. Some of the older people and the weaker women complained that it was a long way, but Tigellinus swore jestingly that he could not provide sedans for everyone for every little promenade.

A howling mob assembled along the road and threw dirt and stones at the Christians, but the procession turned out to be so unimaginably long that even the worst troublemakers’ tired long before the end was in sight. I myself rode back and forth along the procession and saw to it that the Praetorians did their duty and protected the prisoners from the crowd.

Some of them struck the prisoners so hard that they remained lying on the ground in their own blood, but when we reached the via Sacra and the sky turned red and the shadows lengthened, a strange silence descended on the crowds along the wayside. It was as if the whole city had for one moment fallen into a ghost-like silence. The Praetorians looked anxiously around, for among them a rumor had spread that the sky would open and Christ would step down in his glory to protect his people.

Exhausted from hunger, thirst and lack of sleep, many of the Christians sat down on the edge of the road when their legs would no longer carry them, but they were not pestered any longer. They called out after the others, begging not to be left behind and deprived of their share of Christ’s joy. So the more enterprising among the Christians hired some of the wagons used to cart rubble and building stone, and then put those who had fallen by the wayside into them. Soon the procession was being followed by a hundred or so carts so that no one need be left behind. Tigellinus did nothing to stop this, but he swore that the Christians were more obdurate in their superstition than he ever would have imagined.

He made a mistake when he led the procession across Aesculapius island and the Jewish part of Vatican. Dusk had already fallen and when the crowd following the procession saw the Jews, they again became unruly, began to ill-treat them and break into Jewish houses for loot. Tigellinus had to order most of the procession’s escort to restore order, so the stream of Christians had to make their own way to the circus on Vatican.

I heard the men and women at the head of the procession ask one another whether they were going the right way. Some went astray in the darkness of Agrippina’s gardens, but toward the morning, everyone had somehow found his way to the circus. It was said that not a single Christian had run away, but I find that hard to believe. As darkness fell and the fights raged in the fourteenth sector of the city, it would have been a simple matter for anyone to slip away home.

Naturally there was not enough room for that number of people in the cellars and stables, and many had to lie down on the arena sand. Tigellinus allowed them to make up beds from the hay store and he had the water pipes in the stables opened for them. This was not from consideration, but because he as a Roman was responsible for the Christians.

Some children who had lost their parents and some girls whom the Praetorians had singled out of the crowd to defile, thus fulfilling the demands of Roman law that no virgin can be condemned to physical punishment, I sternly commantled to go home, in the name of Christ, for otherwise they would not have obeyed me. I was not the only one who in the confusion was forced to appeal to Christ. I overheard the Praetorians in charge of the queues for water clumsily giving their orders in the name of Christ. Otherwise they would never have kept any order at all.

Depressed, I returned to Tigellinus and we again reported to Nero on Esquiline.

“Where have you been?” Nero said impatiently when he saw me. “Just when I needed you for once. Tell me what you’ve got in the way of wild animals in the menagerie?”

I told him the choice was very limited, for we had been forced to reduce the number of animals because of the water and fodder shortages caused by the fire. For hunting game, I explained unsuspectingly, I had virtually nothing except Hyrcanian bison and harrier hounds. Sabina had her lions, of course.

“But,” I said gloomily, “with the crushing new water taxes, I don’t think we’ll be able to increase our stock of animals.”

“During my reign,” said Nero, “I have been accused of being too mild and of widening the gap still further between the people and the former great virtues of Rome. So for once, they will have what they want, however distasteful I personally think it is. But the Christians’ terrible crime and their enduring hatred of mankind justify it. So they’ll go to the wild animals. I’ve already gone through the myths to find ideas for suitable tableaux. Fifty virgins can be the Danaides and fifty youths their menfolk. Dirce was the one who was tied to the horns of a bull.”

“But,” I protested, “during your reign, not even the worst criminals have been condemned to the wild animals. I thought we’d finished with that kind of barbaric custom. I’m not prepared for that sort of thing. I haven’t the necessary wild animals. No, I refuse to consider it.”

Nero’s neck swelled with rage.

“Rome is mistaken if she thinks I’m afraid to see blood in the sand,” he cried. “You will do as I say. Whoever represents Dirce shall be tied to the horns of the bison. The hounds can tear a hundred or so to pieces.”

“But, my lord,” I said. “They are trained to hunt only wild animals. They won’t touch human beings.” After a moment’s thought, I added cautiously: “Of course, we could arm the prisoners and let them hunt the bison with the hounds. Even experienced hunters can lose their lives in that kind of hunting. You’ve seen that for youself.”

Nero stared at me and then his voice became dangerously quiet.

“Are you defying my wishes, Manilianus?” he said. “I think I have made it quite clear what kind of display I wish from you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” I cried. “You are out of your mind, my lord. There isn’t time.”

Nero raised his great head and looked at me.

“Nothing is impossible for Nero,” he said boastfully. “Tomorrow is Idus day. The Senate assembles at dawn, and I shall inform it that the fire-raisers have been exposed. As soon as the entire Senate has had time to get to the circus, the displays will begin. My decision in a case like this is a legally valid verdict and a trial will not be necessary. My learned friends here are in agreement on that. Only out of respect for the Senate and to put an end to certain evil rumors once and for all, shall I make this statement to the Senate and invite them to the circus and then they can see with their own eyes that Nero is not afraid of blood.”

“I’ve no wild animals for the purpose,” I said curtly, prepared at the same time to receive a goblet thrown at me or a kick in the stomach. Such actions were of no importance, for as long as Nero could find an outlet for his rage in physical violence, he would calm down and soon be placated.

But this time he turned quieter than ever, and, pale with anger, he stared at me.

“Was it not I who once appointed you superintendent of the menagerie?” he asked coldly. “Are they your animals or mine?”

“The menagerie is unquestionably yours even if I have spent a great deal of money of my own on the buildings there,” I said. “This I can prove. But the animals are my own personal property. In the State accounts and in your own accounts you can see for yourself that I have sold the necessary animals to the hunting games, and for the displays of trained animals I have debited a fee in accordance with the value of the show. I neither sell nor hire out my wild animals for what you now want them. Neither you nor even the Senate can force me against my will to hand over my private property to satisfy a merciless whim of yours. Roman law secures that right. Am I not correct?”

The lawyers and the senators nodded uneasily. Nero suddenly smiled at me in a wholly friendly manner.

“We were just discussing you too, my dear Minutus,” he said. “I defended you as best I could, but you are very much involved in the Christian superstition. You know much too much about it. Also, last summer during the fire, you stole a valuable and irreplaceable horse from my stables on Palatine and never returned it. I have not reminded you of this, for Nero is not small-minded whatever else can be said of him. But is it not strange that your house alone was spared in Aventine? It is also said that you have remarried without telling me. Don’t be afraid. There are many reasons for keeping a marriage secret. But I rather mind when it is said of a friend of mine that his wife is a Christian. And you said yourself that you have taken part in their secret meals. I hope that here among friends you can immediately clear yourself of such tiresome charges.”

“Gossip is gossip,” I protested desperately. “One would think that you at least, yes, you more than anyone, my lord, would despise unfounded slander. I did not think you ever listened to such things.”

“But you force me to, Minutus,” said Nero mildly. “You put me, as your friend, in a very difficult position. It is politically necessary to punish the Christians swiftly and thoroughly. Or would you prefer to accuse me of setting fire to Rome, as certain senators, owing to an inherited envy, are doing behind my back? You oppose the punishment I wish for the Christians. You must know that your reluctance is of a political nature. I cannot see it as anything else but a demonstration against myself as regent. You presumably don’t wish to force me, your friend, to condemn you as a Christian, naturally not to the wild animals, but to lose your head because you are an enemy to mankind and to me. That would presumably be the only way to acquire your property legally for the State. Do you really love the Christians and your wild animals more than myself or your own life?”

He smiled, pleased with himself, knowing he had trapped me. For the sake of form, I still hesitated, but I thought quickly as I did so. In my defense, I must plead that I was thinking more of Claudia and my unborn child, that is you, Julius, than myself. At least, I gave some thought to you both.

Finally I gave in.

“We could, of course,” I said, “dress some of the prisoners in bearskins and wolfskins. Perhaps the hounds would attack them if they smelled the scent of wild animals. But you don’t give me much breathing space, my lord, to arrange a good display.”

They all burst into relieved laughter and no further mention was made of my connection with the Christians. Perhaps Nero had wished only to frighten me and not deliberately threaten me. But he had commantleered my animals all the same, for the menagerie’s accounts would not stand up to a thorough scrutiny as I had debited my expenditure to both the State treasury and to Nero’s own fiscus, as far as their resources would go.

I think that Nero would in any case have had my animals at his disposal whatever had happened to me. So I still consider I did the only possible thing. I cannot see what good it would have done the Christians or myself if from sheer obstinacy I had allowed my head to be cut off. When I made the decision, of course I had no idea of my father’s intentions in connection with this deplorable story.

It would have been useless to resist. By the time the evening stars were out, Nero had already had his heralds announce the feast day in the remaining parts of the city and had called the people to a spectacle in the circus on Vatican. The procession of Christians had not then reached there.

I was in such a hurry to get to the menagerie that we had time only to outline the main points of the program. That same night I still had to find time to select the animals and have them ferried across the river, which was no easy task, even if I say so myself. I had the alarm sounded at the menagerie at once and had torches and large bowls of oil lit, so that the whole area was as clear as daylight.

The animals naturally grew even more uneasy than the people when they were awakened from their sleep by the flickering lights and the general clamor. But the rumble of carts and ox-drawn sledges mixed with the bellowing of the bison, the trumpeting of the elephants and the dull roar of the lions made such a noise that it could be heard all the way to Mars field, and the people there rushed out of their temporary dwellings in the belief that the fire had broken out again.

In addition to our own vehicles, I requisitioned the strong wooden ox-sledges which day and night dragged building stone from the quarries outside the city. I had their loads emptied on the spot. Tigellinus put a cohort of Praetorians at my disposal, whom I bribed with money and wine to work at top speed, although they were tired out after twenty-four hours’ continuous duty.

My worst obstacle was, of course, Sabina, who rushed at me with reproaches, straight from Epaphroditus’ bed.

“Are you mad?” she shouted. “What are you doing? What do you mean by this?”

She did not wish under any circumstances to allow her trained lions to take part in Nero’s show, for all her long and patient training would be wasted if such lions were allowed to tear a person to pieces just once.

Fortunately Epaphroditus was more sensible and realized the urgency of the matter, and he himself helped cage three untamed lions which had arrived from Africa two months before. The worst of it was that the animals had all had their evening meal and were much too satisfied. Several old slaves who could still remember Emperor Claudius’ great wild animal displays fifteen years earlier shook their heads worriedly and said the animals would not be much use.

We had no transport cages for the Hyrcanian bison, for they were usually driven along a stout enclosure and an underground tunnel to the stables in the wooden amphitheater. We had to catch them and tie them up in their grazing enclosure. When one thinks that there were thirty or so of them and capturing them took place partly in the dark, with the animals bolting in all directions and butting each other in their excitement over the noise and the flaring torchlight, then I think I deserve some respect for accomplishing the task before dawn.

To set an example, I had to help too, after two inexperienced Praetorians had been gored to death and several others trampled so that they were crippled for life. I myself was trodden on once and had several grazes, but did not break any bones or notice the pain in the rush. One of the bears paralyzed my arm with a blow, but it only pleased me to feel the tremendous strength of these beasts.

I had had tailors and shoemakers all over the city routed out of their beds. We happened to have enough wild animal pelts, for it had become unfashionable to use skins as bedcovers and wall-hangings since Greek refinements had made headway in noble households. This had caused me considerable financial losses, but now I thanked Fortuna that I had plenty in my stores.

When the day dawned, complete chaos reigned in Nero’s circus, as the theater people came with their costumes, soldiers put up poles and slaves built sheds and leafy huts all round them. Whole houses were speedily constructed on the sand in the area, and I had a block of stone hauled into the middle of the arena.

It was impossible to stop the violent quarrels which arose, for each person looked upon his own task as his part in the preparations and as the most important. The worst were the Christians, who were lying all over the place or were wandering inquisitively about, getting in everyone’s way.

The circus was extremely cramped. I was forced to use all the cellars and stables and hastily strengthen the walls for my animals, for the circus had been used only for races. The strongest of the Christians were put to work and the others driven up onto the spectators’ stands. There were not enough privies for such a huge number of prisoners and in the end they had to hurry around cleaning and scrubbing all the passages they had soiled. In spite of this, we still had to burn incense everywhere and use great quantities of perfume to make the Imperial box and the senators’ seats presentable. I admit that my animals were partly responsible for the unpleasant smell, but I myself was so used to the stench of wild animals that I did not notice it any longer.

The Christians were made uneasy by the general confusion and gathered in groups to pray and praise Christ. Some of them jumped about and danced in ecstasy, with their eyes rolling. Others spoke in tongues which no one understood. When they saw this, many Praetorians said that it was Nero’s first sensible measure as Emperor to eradicate such witchcraft from Rome.

But even the most sensible Christians did not yet know the fate that awaited them, and they watched all the preparations in surprise. Some who knew me by sight came innocently up to me in the middle of all the rush to ask how long they would remain under arrest and when the trial would begin. They considered they had many important matters to arrange and see to in their work. I tried in vain to explain to them that the verdict had already been pronounced and that it would be best if they prepared themselves to die courageously in different ways and in honor of Christ, to make a memorable spectacle for the Senate and the people of Rome. But they just shook their heads and did not believe me.

“You’re just trying to frighten us for fun,” they said. “Such things cannot happen in Rome.”

They did not even believe me when they had to strip and the tailors and shoemakers hurriedly began to sew them into animal skins. On the contrary, some of them laughed and gave advice to the sewers. Young boys and girls growled and pretended to claw at each other after being dressed in a panther skin or a wolfskin. So great is human vanity, that they even competed for the most beautiful pelts when they saw that they were going to be forced to wear them. They did not realize why, although they could hear the continuous howling of my harrier hounds in the cellars.

When the theater people selfishly began to select the most beautiful and attractive people for their own purposes, I thought I had better look after my own interests and had the thirty most beautiful women selected for me for the Dirce number. While the Danaides and their Egyptian bridegrooms were being dressed in their costumes, I managed to collect what I thought was a satisfactory supply of women ranging from sixteen to twenty-five years of age, and had them taken to one side, so that no dishonest theater people could come and snatch them from me.

I think the Christians first realized the truth when the first rays of sunlight began to fall across the sand and the soldiers began to crucify the worst criminals. I had been forced to use the beams and planks that had been brought for the purpose to strengthen the walls of the stables, but even so it was no use putting up crosses too near each other on the sand, for they would only have obstructed both the view and the displays.

Tigellinus had to hurry off to the Senate. Hastily, I decided that only fourteen crosses, one for each sector of the city, should be raised in the arena. On each side of the entrances there would be space for more crosses, but beyond that they would have to be content with nailing as many as there was room for to the wooden fencing which ran around the race-course.

To make more room, Tigellinus had sent a thousand men and a thousand women under guard to Agrippina’s gardens, where Nero was to invite the people to a meal in the evening. But the people would have to be offered something during the show too, for the Vatican circus is so far from the city itself that one could not expect the people to go home for their midday meal. Thanks to the excellent organization in the Imperial kitchens, innumerable food hampers now began to arrive as quickly as the men could carry them, one basket per ten spectators, special baskets with wine and roast chicken for the senators, and two thousand baskets for the Noble Order of Knights.

I thought that it was unnecessary to have so many Christians nailed to the fencing around the arena, using so many expensive nails. In addition I was afraid that the cries from the crucified would disturb the displays, although at first, perhaps from nothing but surprise, they were astonishingly quiet. I do not say this from envy. It becomes monotonous, watching the crucified writhing about when there are so many of them. So I was not in the least afraid that the crowd’s attention would be distracted from my animals to the advantage of Tigellinus’ innovation.

But when a thousand people scream with pain, it is a sound which drowns the best bear growls and even the roaring of lions, not to mention the heralds’ explanations of the mimes, I thought I acted correctly when I assembled some of the leading Christians and sent them around to ask the crucified people to be quieter during the show, or at most cry out in the name of Christ so that the people would know for what they were being punished.

The Christian teachers, several of whom were already sewn into animal skins, understood their task exactly. They spoke to the groaning people and assured them that theirs was the greatest honor, for they were being allowed to die on the cross as Jesus of Nazareth had done. Their trials were to be short compared with the eternal salvation which awaited them in the kingdom of Christ. That very evening they would be in paradise.

The teachers spoke so convincingly that I had to smile. But when with even greater fervor they began to tell the crucified people that this day was the day of greatest joy, in which the innocent were to be allowed to suffer to the glory of Christ and as his witnesses ascend to heaven, I began to bite my lips.

It was as if these teachers seriously envied the fate of those who had been crucified. I could not look on all this as anything else but a display. So I remarked quite brusquely that as far as I was concerned, they could exchange their own brief agony for the lengthy agony of crucifixion if they liked.

But so incurable was their blindness that one of them tore off his bearskin and begged me for the honor of being crucified. I could do nothing else but comply and ordered the Praetorians to crucify him in one of the intervals.

The Praetorians, annoyed at this extra work, struck him several times, for their arms were numb and aching from, driving in so many coarse nails with heavy hammers. I had nothing against their beating him, for the law prescribes that those who are to be crucified are first scourged out of mercy so that they die sooner on the cross. But unfortunately we had no time to scourge the Christians. The most indulgent of the Praetorians contented themselves with poking them here and there with the points of their spears to give the blood some outlet.

And still I must admire the Roman ability to organize, thanks to which Nero’s command, which had seemed quite absurd, could be carried out so admirably. When in the bright morning the people began to stream through the circus entrances and the roads outside were white with the crowds, all the spectators’ stands were clean, the buildings ready in the arena, the performers dressed, the order of events decided, the roles allocated and the crucified in their places, jerking and whimpering quietly.

The howls of the hounds and the bellowing of the bison sounded promising to the ears of the crowd. While the most eager among them fought for the best seats, everyone who came quietly through the gates was given newly baked bread and a morsel of salt, and anyone who wished could have a mug of diluted wine.

I felt great pride in Rome as I hurriedly washed myself and changed into my red-bordered festive costume beside a pile of hay in the stables. The ever-increasing hum of contentment coming from a crowd waiting with tense expectation makes a deep impression. After drinking a couple of mugs of wine, I realized that one of the reasons for my joyful pride was the joyousness of the Christians. They exhorted each other not to weep and assured each other that it was better to laugh in an ecstasy of joy as they waited to be allowed to witness at the gates of the kingdom of Christ.

As the wine rose pleasantly to my weary head, I was all the more convinced that this show, at least as fax as I was concerned, could not but succeed. I should scarcely have felt so calm and proud of what I had arranged, had I known what was happening at the same time in the Curia. When I think about it now, I am seized with such sorrow and oppression that I must begin a new’book in order to be able to tell you about it without agitation.