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Life in the Roman World of Nero and St. Paul

T. G. Tucker

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Title: Life in the Roman World of Nero and St. Paul

Author: T. G. Tucker

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LIFE IN THE ROMAN WORLD OF NERO AND ST. PAUL

T. G. TUCKER

1924

PREFACE

The reception accorded to my _Life in Ancient Athens_ has led me to

write the present companion work with an eye to the same class of

readers. In the preface to the former volume it was said: "I have

sought to leave an impression true and sound, so far as it goes, and

also vivid and distinct. The style adopted has therefore been the

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opposite of the pedantic, utilizing any vivacities of method which are

consistent with truth of fact." The same principles have guided me in

the present equally unpretentious treatise. I agree entirely with Mr.

Warde Fowler when he says: "I firmly believe that the one great hope

for classical learning and education lies in the interest which the

unlearned public may be brought to feel in ancient life and thought."

For the general reader there is perhaps no period in the history of

the ancient world which is more interesting than the one here chosen.

Yet, so far as I know, there exists no sufficiently popular work

dealing with this period alone and presenting in moderate compass a

clear general view of the matters of most moment. My endeavour has

been to represent as faithfully as possible the Age of Nero, and

nowhere in the book is it implied that what is true for that age is

necessarily as true for any other. The reader who is not a special

student of history or antiquities is perhaps as often confused by

descriptions of ancient life which cover too many generations as by

those--often otherwise excellent--which include too much detail.

I have necessarily consulted not only the Latin and Greek writers who

throw light upon the time, but also all the best-known Standard works

of modern date. It is perhaps scarcely necessary to state that in

matters of contemporary government, administration, and public life my

guides have been chiefly Mommsen, Arnold, and Greenidge; for social

life Marquardt, Friedlaender, and Becker-Goell; for topography and

buildings Jordan, Huelsen, Lanciani, and Middleton; nor that the

Dictionaries of Smith and of Daremberg and Saglio have been always at

hand, as well as Baumeister's _Denkmaeler_, and Guhl and Koner's _Life

of the Greeks and Romans_. The admirable _Pompeii_ of Mau-Kelsey has

been, of course, indispensable. I have also derived profit from the

writings of Prof. Sir W. M. Ramsay in connexion with St. Paul, and

from Conybeare and Howson's _Life and Epistles_ of the Apostle. Useful

hints have been found in Mr. Warde Fowler's _Social Life in Rome in

the Age of Cicero_, and in Prof. Dill's Roman_ Society from Nero to

Marcus Aurelius_. A personal study of ancient sites, monuments, and

objects of antiquity at Rome, Pompeii, and elsewhere has naturally

been of prime value. Those intimately acquainted with the immense

amount of the available material will best realize the difficulty

there has been in deciding how much to say and how much to "leave in

the inkstand."

For the drawings other than those of which another source is specified

I have to thank Miss M. O'Shea, on whom has occasionally fallen the

difficult task of giving ocular form to the mental visions of one who

happens to be no draughtsman. For the rest I make acknowledgment to

those books from which the illustrations have been directly derived

for my own purposes, without reference to more original sources.

I am especially grateful for the permission to use so considerable a

number of illustrations from the _Pompeii_ of Mau-Kelsey, from

Professor Waldstein's _Herculaneum_, and from Lanciani's _New Tales of

Old Rome_.

T.G.T.

October 1909.

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CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTERS

I EXTENT AND SECURITY OF THE EMPIRE

II TRAVEL WITHIN THE EMPIRE

III A BRIEF SURVEY OF THE PROVINCES

IV THE IMPERIAL SYSTEM: EMPEROR, SENATE, KNIGHTS, AND PEOPLE

V NERO THE EMPEROR

VI ADMINISTRATION AND TAXATION OF THE EMPIRE

VII ROME: THE IMPERIAL CITY

VIII STREETS, WATER-SUPPLY, AND BUILDING MATERIAL

IX THE ROMAN TOWN HOUSE

X THE COUNTRY HOMESTEAD AND COUNTRY SEAT

XI ROMAN FURNITURE

XII SOCIAL DAY OF A ROMAN ARISTOCRAT--MORNING

XIII SOCIAL DAY OF A ROMAN ARISTOCRAT (_continued_)--AFTERNOON AND

DINNER

XIV LIFE IN THE MIDDLE AND LOWER CLASSES

XV HOLIDAYS AND AMUSEMENTS: THEATRE, CIRCUS, AMPHITHEATRE

XVI THE WOMEN: MARRIAGE, THE ROMAN MATRON, AND HER DRESS

XVII CHILDREN AND EDUCATION

XVIII THE ARMY: MILITARY SERVICE: PUBLIC CAREER

XIX ROMAN RELIGION--STATE AND INDIVIDUAL

XX STUDY AND SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE AMONG THE ROMANS

XXI PHILOSOPHY--STOICS AND EPICUREANS

XXII THE ROMAN PROFUSION OF ART

XXIII THE LAST SCENE OF ALL--BURIAL AND TOMBS

INDEX

ILLUSTRATIONS

FIG.

Frontispiece

View into Roman Forum from Temple of Vesta, A.D. 64.

(Restoration partly after Auer, Huelsen, Tognetti, etc.).

1. The Pont du Gard (Aqueduct and Bridge).

2. The Appian Way by the so-called Tomb of Seneca (Laneiani, _New

Tales of Old Rome_).

3. Plan of Inn at Pompeii. (After Mau).

4. Ship beside the Quay at Ostia. (Hill, _Illustrations of School

Classics_, FIG. 498 ).

6. The Acropolis at Athens. (From D'Ooge).

7. Plan of Antioch.

8. Emblem of Antioch. (_Dict. of Geog_. i. 116 ).

9. Emblem of Alexandria. (Mau, _Pompeii_, Fig 187).

10. Emblem of Rome. (From the column of Antoninus at Rome).

11. Augustus as Emperor.

12. Coin of Nero. (In the British Museum).

13. Bust of Seneca. (_Archaeiologische Zeitung_).

14. Agrippina, Mother of Nero. (Photo, Mansell & Co.).

15. Bust of Nero.

16. Some Remains of the Claudian Aqueduct.

17. The Rostra: back view. (Modified from Huelsen).

18. Ruins of Forum. (Record-Office in background with modern building

above.) (Photo, Anderson).

19. N.E. of Forum, A.D. 64. (Complementary to Frontispiece).

20. Temple of Fortuna Augusta at Pompeii. (Mau, FIG. 58).

21. So-called Temple of the Sibyl at Tivoli.

22. Vestal Virgin. (Hill, FIG. 340 ).

23. Temple of Mars the Avenger in Forum of Augustus. (After

Ripostelli).

24. Exterior of Theatre of Marcellus. (Present state).

25. Exterior of Theatre of Marcellus. (Restored).

26. A Greek Exedra. (Baumeister).

27. Circus Maximus (restored). (Modified from Guhl and Koner).

28. Building Materials. (From Middleton).

29. Typical Scheme of Roman House.

30. Entrance to House of Pansa.

31. Interior of Roman House. (Restored).

32. House of Cornelius Rufus. (Mau, FIG. 121 ).

33. Peristyle with Garden and al fresco Dining-Table. (After Guhl and

Koner).

34. Peristyle in House of the Vettii. (Present state) (Mau, FIG.

162).

35. Kitchen Hearth in the House of the Vettii. (Mau, FIG. 125).

36. Cooking Hearths. (_Dict. Ant_. i. 672).

37. Shrine in House of the Tragic Poet. (Mau, FIG. 153 ).

38. Household Shrine. (Hill, FIG. 345).

38A. Leaden Pipes in House of Livia. (From a photograph).

39. Portable Braziers. (Daremberg and Saglio).

40. Manner of Roofing with Tiles.

41. House of Pansa at Pompeii. (After Mau).

42. House of the Vettii at Pompeii. (After Mau).

43. Specimen of Painted Room.

44. Specimen of Wall-Painting. (Mau, FIG. 264).

45. Plan of Homestead at Boscoreale. (After Mau).

46. Roman Folding Chair. (Schreiber).

47. Bronze Seat. (Overbeck).

48. Framework of Roman Couch. (Mau, FIG. 188).

49. Plan of Dining-Table with Three Couches.

50. Sigma.

51. Tripod from Herculaneum. (From Waldstein, _Herculaneum_, Plate

41).

52. Chest (Strong-box). (Mau, FIG. 120).

53. Mirrors. (Mau, FIG. 213).

54. Lamps. (Mau, FIG. 196).

55. Lampholder as Tree. (Mau, FIG. 202).

56. Cup from Herculaneum. (Waldstein, Plate 45).

57. Kitchen Utensils. (Mau, FIG. 204).

58. Pail from Herculaneum. (Waldstein, Plate 42).

59. Patrician Shoes. (_Dict. Ant_. i. 335).

60. Roman in the Toga. (Waldstein, Plate 18).

61. Slave in Fetters.

62. Litter. (_Dict. Ant_. ii. 15).

63. Reading a Proclamation. (Mau, FIG. 17).

64. Sealed Receipt of Jueundus. (Mau, FIG. 275).

65. Discus-Thrower. (Photo, Anderson).

66. Stabian Baths. (Mau, Plate 5).

67. Bathing Implements. (Mau, FIG. 209).

68. Acrobats. (Baumeister, i. 585).

69. Surgical Instruments. (Guhl and Koner).

70. Bakers' Mills. (Mau, FIG. 218).

71. Cupids as Goldsmiths. (Wall-Painting.)(Mau, FIG. 167).

72. Garland-Makers. (_Abhandlungen, historische-philologische

Classe Koeniglich Saechsischen Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften_).

73. Bust of Caecilius Jueundus. (Mau, FIG. 256).

74. Ploughs. (Hill, FIG. 383; _Dict. Ant_. i. 160).

75. Tools on Tomb. (_Dict. Ant_. ii. 243).

76. Pompeian Cook-Shop. (Mau, FIG. 131).

77. In a Wine-Shop. (Mau, FIG. 234).

78. Boxing-Gloves. (_Dict. Ant_. i. 329).

79. Theatre at Orange. (Restored.) (Baumeister, iii. 1742).

80. Theatre at Aspendus. (Guhl and Koner).

81. Tragic Actor. (Hill, FIG. 421).

82. Comic Masks. (Terence's _Andria_).

83. Scene from Comedy. (Hill, FIG. 422).

84. Plan of Circus.

85. The Turn in the Circus.

86. Chariot Race. (_Dict. Ant_. i. 434).

87. Amphitheatre at Pompeii. (Mau, Plate 6).

88. Barracks of Gladiators. (Mau, Plate 4).

89. Stocks for Gladiators. (Remains from Pompeii.) (Mau, FIG. 74).

90. Gladiators Fighting. (Guhl and Koner).

91. Toilet Scene. (Wall-Painting.) (Waldstein, Plate 32).

92. Woman in Full Dress. (Waldstein, Plate 7).

93. Hairpins. (Mau, FIG. 211).

94. Writing Materials.

95. Horsing a Boy. (After Saechs.) (Baumeister, iii. FIG. 1653).

96. Papyri and Tabulae. (From Dyer's _Pompeii_).

97. Roman Standards. (Guhl and Koner).

98. Armed Soldier.

99. A Roman General. (Hill, FIG. 465).

100. Centurion. (Hill, FIG. 466).

101. Standard-Bearer. (Hill, FIG. 470).

102. Baggage-Train. (Daremberg and Saglio, FIG. 1196).

103. Soldiers with Packs. (Seyffert, _Dict. Class. Ant_. p. 348).

104. Roman Soldiers Marching. (Schreiber).

105. Imperial Guards. (Guhl and Koner).

106. Besiegers with the "Tortoise." (Hill, FIG. 481).

107. Roman Artillery. (_Dict. Ant_. ii. 855).

108. Auxiliary Cavalryman. (_Dict. Ant_. i. 790).

109. Jupiter. (Vatican Museum).

110. A Sacrifice. (Mau, FIG. 44).

111. Isis Worship. (Wall-Painting.) (Mau, FIG. 81).

112. Household Shrine. (Mau, FIG. 127).

113. The World (approximately) as conceived about A.D. 100.

114. The Dying Gaul.

115. A "Candeliera" or Marble Pilaster of the Basilica Aemilia

(Lanciani, _New Tales, etc._, p. 147).

116. Fragments of the Architecture of the Regia. (Lanciani, p. 70).

117. Wall-Painting. (Woman with Tablets.) (Waldstein, _Herculaneum_,

Plate 35).

118. Wall-Painting from Herculaneum. (Women playing with

Knuckle-Bones.) (Waldstein, Plate 4).

119. Lyre and Harp.

120. "Conclamatio" of the Dead. (Guhl and Koner).

121. Tomb of Caecilia Metella.

122. Street of Tombs. (Mau, Plate 10).

123. Columbarium. (Guhl and Koner).

124. Temple of Jupiter on the Capitol.

MAPS AND PLANS:

Map of Roman Empire, A.D. 64.

Plan of Rome with Chief Topographical Features.

Plan of Forum, A.D. 64.

INTRODUCTION

The subject of this book is "Life in the Roman World of Nero and St.

Paul." This is not quite the same thing as "Life in Ancient Rome" at

the same date. Our survey is to be somewhat wider than that of the

imperial city itself, with its public and private structures, its

public and private life. The capital, and these topics concerning it,

will naturally occupy the greater portion of our time and interest.

But it is quite impossible to realise Rome, its civilisation, and the

meaning of its monuments, unless we first obtain some general

comprehension of the empire--the Roman world--with its component

parts, its organisation and administration. The date is approximately

anno Domini 64, although it is not desirable, even if it were

possible, to adhere in every detail to the facts of that particular

year. In A.D. 64 the Emperor Nero was at the height of his folly and

tyranny, and, so far as our information goes, the Apostle Paul was

journeying about the Roman world in the interval between his first and

second imprisonments in the capital.

One cannot, perhaps, achieve a wholly satisfying picture in a treatise

of the present dimensions. It would require a very bulky volume to

realise with any adequateness the ideal aim. It would be well if, in

the first instance, we could imagine ourselves standing somewhere far

aloft over the centre of the empire, and possessing as wide-ranging a

vision as that of the Homeric gods. From that exalted standpoint we

might gaze upon the active life of towns, upon the labourers working

their lands from the Atlantic to the Euphrates, and upon the men who

go down to the sea in ships and do their business in great waters. We

should perceive their occupations and amusements, their material

surroundings, their various dress and manners, their methods of

travel, the degree of their personal safety and liberty. Then we

should descend to earth in the middle of Rome itself, and become for

the time being inhabitants of that city, privileged to take part in

its public business and its public pleasures, to enter the houses of

what may be called its representative citizens, to share in the

various elements of its social day, and to estimate the moral,

intellectual, and artistic cultivation of Roman society.

Such would be the ideal. Here it must suffice, to select the most

essential or interesting matters, and to present them with such

vividness as the necessary brevity will permit. Very little

preliminary knowledge will be taken for granted; the use of Latin or

technical terms will be shunned, and every topic will be dealt with,

as far as possible, in the plainest of English.

Nevertheless, while aiming at entire lucidity, the following chapters

will aim even more scrupulously at telling the truth. There are

doubtless a number of matters--though generally of relatively small

moment--about which we are, and probably always shall be, uncertain.

The best way to deal with these, in a work which is descriptive rather

than argumentative, is to omit them. For the rest it must be expected

of any one whose professional concern it has been to saturate himself

for many years in the literature of the times, and to study carefully

their monumental remains, that he should occasionally make some

statement, drop some passing remark or judgment, which may appear to

be in conflict with assertions made in other quarters. If a few

examples are met with in the present book, they may be taken as made

with all deference, but with deliberation.

It is perhaps well to say this with some emphasis, in view of the

blunders often innocently committed by those who happen to be speaking

of this period. There are those who know it almost only through the

medium of the _Acts of the Apostles_, and who entertain the most

erroneous notions concerning Gallio or Festus, concerning Roman

justice, Roman taxation, or Roman moral and religious attitudes. There

are those, again, who know it almost only through the manuals of

history; that is to say, they know the dates and facts of the reigns

of the emperors, but have never realised, not to say visualised, the

contemporary Roman as a human being. There exist denunciations of the

morals of the Roman world of this date which would lead one to believe

that every man was a Nero and every woman a Messalina: denunciations

so lurid that, if they were a third part true, the continuance of the

Roman Empire, or even of the Roman race, for a single century would be

simply incomprehensible. On the other hand there have been accounts of

the material glory of Rome which have conjured up visions of splendour

worthy only of the _Arabian Nights_; and sometimes the comment is

added that it was all won from the blood and sweat heartlessly wrung

from a world of miserable slaves. It is not too much to say that none

of these descriptions could come from a writer or speaker who knew the

period at first hand.

The most dangerous form of falsehood is that which contains some

portion of truth. The life of many a Roman was deplorably dissolute;

the splendour of Rome was beyond doubt astonishing; of oppression

there were too many scattered instances; but we do not judge the

civilisation of the British Empire by the choicest scandals of London,

nor the good sense of the United States by the freak follies of New

York. We do not take it that the modern satirist who vents his spleen

on an individual or a class is describing each and all of his

contemporaries, nor even that what he says is necessarily true of such

individual or class. Nor is the professional moralist himself immune

from jaundice or from the disease of exaggeration.

The endeavour here will be to realise more veraciously what life in

the Roman world was like. For those who are familiar with the

political history and the escapades of Nero there may be some filling

in of gaps and adjusting of perspective. For those who are familiar

with the journeyings and experiences of St. Paul there may be some

correction of errors and misconceptions. For those who have any

thought of visiting the ruins of Rome and Pompeii, it may prove

helpful to have secured some comprehension of this period. Pompeii was

destroyed only fifteen years after our date, and all those houses,

large and small, were occupied in the year 64 by their unsuspecting

inhabitants. Meanwhile mansions, temples, and halls stood in splendour

above those platforms and foundations over which we tread amid the

broken columns in the Roman Forum or on the Palatine Hill.

CHAPTER I

EXTENT AND SECURITY OF THE EMPIRE

The best means of realising the extent of the Roman Empire in or about

the year 64 is to glance at the map. It will be found to reach from

the Atlantic Ocean to the Euphrates, from the middle of

England--approximately the river Trent--to the south of Egypt, from

the Rhine and the Danube to the Desert of Sahara. The Mediterranean

Sea is a Roman lake, and there is not a spot upon its shores which is

not under Roman rule. In round numbers the empire is three thousand

miles in length and two thousand in breadth. Its population, which, at

least in the western parts, was much thinner then than it is over the

same area at present, cannot be calculated with any accuracy, but an

estimate of one hundred millions would perhaps be not very far from

the mark.

Beyond its borders--sometimes too dangerously near to them and apt to

overstep them--lay various peoples concerning whom Roman knowledge was

for the most part incomplete and indefinite. Within its own boundaries

the Roman government carefully collected every kind of information.

Such precision was indispensable for the carrying out of those Roman

principles of administration which will be described later. But of the

nations or tribes beyond the frontiers only so much was known as had

been gathered from a number of more or less futile campaigns, from

occasional embassies sent to Rome by such peoples, from the writings

of a few venturous travellers bent on exploration, from slaves who had

been acquired by war or purchase, or from traders such as those who

made their way to the Baltic in quest of amber, or to Arabia,

Ethiopia, and India in quest of precious metals, jewels, ivory,

perfumes, and fabrics.

There had indeed been sundry attempts to annex still more of the

world. Roman armies had crossed the Rhine and had twice fought their

way to the Elbe; but it became apparent to the shrewd Augustus and

Tiberius that the country could not be held, and the Rhine was for the

present accepted as the most natural and practical frontier. In the

East the attempts permanently to annex Armenia, or a portion of

Parthia, had so far proved but nominal or almost entirely vain.

On the Upper Euphrates at this date there was a sort of acknowledgment

of vague dependence on Rome, but the empire had acquired nothing more

solid. Forty years before our date a Roman expedition had penetrated

into South-west Arabia, of which the wealth was extravagantly

over-estimated, but it had met with complete failure. Into Ethiopia a

punitive campaign had been made against Queen Candace, and a loose

suzerainty was claimed over her kingdom, but the Roman frontier still

stopped short at Elephantine. Over the territories of the semi-Greek

semi-Scythian settlements to the north of the Black Sea Rome exercised

a protectorate, which was for obvious reasons not unwelcome to those

concerned. Along or near the eastern frontier she well understood the

policy of the "buffer state," and, within her own borders in those

parts, was ready to make tools of petty kings, whose own ambitions

would both assist her against external foes and relieve her of

administrative trouble.

At no time did the Roman Empire possess so natural or scientific a

frontier as at this, when it was bounded by the Rhine, the Danube, the

Black Sea, the Euphrates, the Desert, and the Atlantic. The only

exception, it will be perceived, was in Britain, but the Roman idea

there also was to annex the whole island, a feat which was never

accomplished. Two generations after our chosen date Rome had conquered

as far as the Firths of Clyde and Forth; it had crossed the Southern

Rhine, and annexed the south-west corner of Germany, approximately

from Cologne to Ratisbon; it had passed the Danube, and secured and

settled Dacia, which is roughly the modern Roumania; and it had pushed

its power somewhat further into the East. But it had not thereby

increased either its strength or its stability.

At the period then with which we are to deal, the Roman Empire

included the countries now known as Holland, Belgium, France, Spain

and Portugal, Switzerland, Italy, the southern half of the Austrian

Empire, Greece, Turkey, Asia Minor, Syria and Palestine, Egypt,

Tripoli and Tunis, Algeria, Morocco, and also the southern two-thirds

of England. Within these borders there prevailed that greatest

blessing of the Roman rule, the _pax Romana_, or "Roman peace."

Whatever defects may be found in the Roman administration, on whatever

abstract grounds the existence of such an empire may be impugned, it

cannot be questioned that for at least two centuries the whole of this

vast region enjoyed a general reign of peace and security such as it

never knew before and has never known since. That peace meant also

social and industrial prosperity and development. It meant an immense

increase in settled population and in manufactures, and an immense

advance--particularly in the West--in civilised manners and

intellectual interests.

Peoples and tribes which had been at perpetual war among themselves or

with some neighbour were reduced to quietude. Communities which had

been liable to sudden invasion and to all manner of arbitrary changes

in their conditions of life, in their burdens of taxation, and even in

their personal freedom, now knew exactly where they stood, and, for

the most part, perceived that they stood in a much more tolerable and

a distinctly more assured position than before. If there must

sometimes be it would be the Roman tyrant, and he, as we shall find,

affected them but little. All irresponsible local tyrannies, whether

of kings or parties, were abolished.

On the high seas within the empire you might voyage with no fear

whatever of pirates. If you looked for pirates you must look beyond

the Roman sphere to the Indian Ocean. There might also be a few to be

found in the Black Sea. On the high road you might travel from

Jerusalem to Rome, and from Rome to Cologne or Cadiz, with no fear of

any enemy except such banditti and footpads as the central or local

government could not always manage to put down. On the whole there was

nearly everywhere a clear recognition of the advantages conferred by

the empire.

It is quite true that during these two centuries we meet with frequent

trouble on the borders and with one or two local revolts of more or

less strength. At our chosen date the Jews were being stirred by their

fanatical or "zealot" party into an almost hopeless insurrection;

within two years the rebellion broke out. Three years later still,

certain ambitious semi-Romans took advantage of a troubled time to

make a determined but futile effort to form a Gaulish or

German-Gaulish empire of their own. Half a century after Nero the Jews

once again rose, but were speedily suppressed. But apart from these

abortive efforts--made, one by a unique form of religious zeal, one by

adventurous ambition, at opposite extremities of the Roman

world--there was established a general, and in most cases a willing,

acceptance of the situation and a proper recognition of its benefits.

The only serious war to be feared within the empire itself was a civil

war, begun by some aspiring leader when his chance seemed strong of

ousting the existing emperor or of succeeding to his throne. Four

years from the date at which we have placed ourselves such a war

actually did break out. Nero was driven from the throne in favour of

Galba, and the history of the year following is the history of Otho

murdering Galba, Vitellius overthrowing Otho, and Vespasian in his

turn overthrowing Vitellius. Yet all this is but the story of one

entirely exceptional year, the famous "year of four emperors." Take

out that year from the imperial history; count a hundred years before

and more than a hundred years after, and it would be impossible to

find in the history of the world any period at which peace, and

probably contentment, was so widely and continuously spread. Think of

all the countries which have just been enumerated as lying within the

Roman border; then imagine that, with the exception of one year of

general commotion, two or three provincial and local revolts, and

occasional irruptions and retaliations upon the frontier, they have

all been free from war and its havoc ever since the year 1700. In our

year of grace 64, although the throne is occupied by a vicious emperor

suffering from megalomania and enormous self-conceit, the empire is in

full enjoyment of its _pax Romana_.

Another glance at the map will show how secure this internal peace was

felt to be. The Roman armies will be found almost entirely upon the

frontiers. It was, of course, imperative that there should be strong

forces in such positions--in Britain carrying out the annexation; on

the Rhine and Danube defending against huge-bodied, restless Germans

and their congeners; on the Euphrates to keep off the nimble and

dashing Parthian horse and foot; in Upper Egypt to guard against the

raids of "Fuzzy-Wuzzy "; in the interior of Tunis or Algeria to keep

the nomad Berber tribes in hand. In such places were the Roman legions

and their auxiliary troops regularly kept under the eagles, for there

lay their natural work, and there do we find them quartered generation

after generation.

It is, of course, true that they might be employed inwards as well as

outwards; but it must be manifest that, if there had been any

widespread disaffection, any reasonable suspicion that serious revolts

might happen, there would have been many other large bodies of troops

posted in garrison throughout the length and breadth of the provinces.

In point of fact the whole Roman military force can scarcely have

amounted to more than 320,000 men, while the navy consisted of two

small fleets of galleys, one regularly posted at Misenum at the

entrance to the Bay of Naples, the other at Ravenna on the Adriatic.

To these we may add a flotilla of boats operating on the Lower Rhine

and the neighbouring coasts. Except during the year of civil war the

two fleets have practically no history. They enjoyed the advantage of

having almost nothing to fight against. If pirates had become

dangerous--as for a brief time they threatened to do during the Jewish

revolt--the imperial ships would have been in readiness to suppress

them. They could be made useful for carrying despatches and imperial

persons or troops, or they might be used against a seaside town if

necessary. Beyond this they hardly correspond to our modern navies.

There was no foreign competition to build against, and no "two-power

standard" to be maintained.

The Roman troops, it has already been said, were almost wholly on the

frontier. So far as there are exceptions, they explain themselves. It

was found necessary at all times to keep at least one legion regularly

quartered in Northern Spain, where the mountaineers were inclined to

be predatory, and where they were skilful, as they have always been,

at carrying on guerilla warfare. We may, if we choose, regard this

comparatively small army as policing a lawless district. In but few

other places do we find a regular military force. Rome itself had both

a garrison and also a large body of Imperial Guards. The garrison,

consisting of some 6000 men, was in barracks inside the city, and its

purpose was to protect the wealth of the metropolis and the seat of

government from any sudden riot or factious tumult. It must be

remembered that among the Romans it was soldiers who served as police,

whether at Rome or in the provinces. The Imperial Guards, consisting

of 12,000 troops, were stationed just outside the gates, in order to

secure the safety and position of the emperor himself, if any attempt

should be made against his person or authority. The rich and important

town of Lugdunum (or Lyons) had a small garrison of 1200 men, and a

certain number of troops were always to be found in garrison in those

great towns where factious disturbances were either probable or

possible. Thus at Alexandria, where the Jews were fanatical and at

loggerheads with the Greeks, and where the native Egyptians were no

less fanatical and might be at loggerheads with both, it was necessary

to keep a disciplinary force in readiness. Somewhat similar was the

case at Antioch, where the discords of the Greeks, Syrians, and Jews

stood in need of the firm Roman hand. Nor could a similar regiment be

spared from Jerusalem. The western towns were generally smaller in

size, more homogeneous, and more tranquil. It was around the Levant

that the popular _emeute_ was most to be feared. Doubtless one may

meet, whether in the New Testament or in Roman and Greek writers, with

frequent mention of soldiers, and we make acquaintance with an

occasional centurion--something socially above a colour-sergeant and

below a captain--or other officer in various parts of the empire. But

it should be understood that, except in such places as those which

have been named, soldiers were distributed in small handfuls, to act

as _gendarmerie_, to deal with brigands, to serve as bodyguard and

orderlies to a governor, to bear despatches, to be custodians of state

prisoners. To these classes belong the centurions of the _Acts of the

Apostles_, while Lysias was the colonel of the regiment keeping order

in Jerusalem.

What the Roman army was like, whence it was recruited, how it was

armed, and what were its operations, are matters to be shown in a

later chapter. Regarded then as a controlling agent, maintaining

widespread peace, the Roman Empire answers closely to the British

_raj_ in India. The analogy could indeed be pressed very much further

and with more closeness of detail, but this is scarcely the place for

such a discussion.

CHAPTER II

TRAVEL WITHIN THE EMPIRE

Of the administration in Rome and throughout the provinces enough will

be said in the proper place. Meanwhile we may look briefly at one or

two questions of interest which will presumably suggest themselves at

this stage. Since all this vast region now formed one empire, since

Roman magistrates and officers were sent to all parts of it, since

trade and intercourse were vigorous between all its provinces, it will

be natural to ask, for example, by what means the traveller got from

place to place, at what rate of progress, and with what degree of

safety and comfort.

In setting forth by land you would elect, if possible, to proceed by

one of the great military roads for which the Roman world was so

deservedly famous. Not only were they the best kept and the safest;

they were also generally the shortest. As far as possible the Roman

road went straight from point to point. It did not circumvent a

practicable hill, nor, where necessary, did it shrink from cutting

through a rock, say to the depth of sixty feet or so. It did not avoid

a river, but bridged it with a solid structure such as often remains

in use till this day. If it met with a marsh, wooden piles were driven

in and the road-bed laid upon them. When it came to a deep narrow

valley it built a viaduct on arches.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.--THE PONT DU GARD (AQUEDUCT AND BRIDGE).]

The road so laid was meant for permanence. A width of ground was

carefully prepared, trenches were dug at the sides, three different

layers of road material were deposited, with sufficient upward curve

to throw off the water, and then the whole was paved with

closely-fitting many-cornered blocks of stone. In the chief instances

there were sidewalks covered with some kind of gravel. The width was

not great, but might be anything between ten and fifteen feet. Along

such roads the Roman armies marched to their camps, along them the

government despatches were carried by the imperial post, and along

them were the most conveniently situated and commodious houses of

accommodation. For their construction a special grant might be made by

the Roman treasury--the cost being comparatively small, since the

work, when not performed by the soldiers, was done by convicts and

public slaves--and for their upkeep a rate was apparently levied by

the local corporations. Besides the paved roads there was, needless to

say, always a number of smaller roads, many of them mere strips of

four feet or so in width; there were also short-cuts, by-paths, and

ill-kept tracks of local and more or less fortuitous creation.

[Illustration: FIG. 2.--THE APPIAN WAY BY THE SO-CALLED TOMB OF

SENECA.]

Beside the great highways stood milestones in the shape of short

pillars, and generally there were in existence charts or itineraries,

sometimes pictured, giving all necessary directions as to the

turnings, distances, stopping-places, and inns, and even as to the

sights worth seeing on the way. Wherever there were such objects of

interest--in Egypt, Syria, Greece, or any other region of art,

history, and legend--the traveller could always find a professional

guide, whose information was probably about as reliable as that of the

modern _cicerone_. In Rome itself there was displayed, in one of the

public arcades, a plan of the empire, with notes explaining the

dimensions and distances.

The vehicle employed by the traveller would depend upon circumstances.

You would meet the poor man riding on an ass, or plodding on foot with

his garments well girt; the better provided on a mule; a finer person

or an official on a horse; the more luxurious or easy-going either in

some form of carriage or borne in a litter very similar to the

oriental palanquin. To carriages, which were of several

kinds--two-wheeled, four-wheeled, heavy and light--it may be necessary

to make further reference; here it is sufficient to observe that, in

order to assist quick travelling, there existed individuals or

companies who let out a light form of gig, in which the traveller rode

behind a couple of mules or active Gaulish ponies as far as the next

important stopping-place, where he could find another jobmaster, or

keeper of livery-stables, to send him on further. The rich man,

travelling, as he necessarily would, with a train of servants and with

full appliances for his comfort, would journey in a coach, painted and

gilded, cushioned and curtained, drawn by a team showily caparisoned

with rich harness and coloured cloths. This must have presented an

appearance somewhat similar to that of the extravagantly decorated

travelling-coach of the fourteenth century. The ordinary man of modest

means would be satisfied with his mule or horse, and with his one or

two slaves to attend him. On the less frequented stretches of road,

where there was no proper accommodation for the night, his slaves

would unpack the luggage and bring out a plain meal of wine, bread,

cheese, and fruits. They would then lay a sort of bedding on the

ground and cover it with a rug or blanket. The rich folk might bring

their tents or have a bunk made up in their coaches.

Where there was some sort of lodging for man and horse the average

wayfarer would make the best of it. In the better parts of the empire

and in the larger places of resort there were houses corresponding in

some measure to the old coaching-inns of the eighteenth century; in

the East there were the well-known caravanserais; but for the most

part the ancient hostelries must have afforded but undesirable

quarters. They were neither select nor clean. You journeyed along till

you came to a building half wine-shop and store, half lodging-house.

Outside you might be told by an inscription and a sign that it was the

"Cock" Inn, or the "Eagle," or the "Elephant," and that there was

"good accommodation." Its keeper might either be its proprietor, or

merely a slave or other tenant put into it by the owner of a

neighbouring estate and country-seat. Your horses or mules would be

put up--with a reasonable suspicion on your part that the poor beasts

would be cheated in the matter of their fodder--and you would be shown

into a room which you might or might not have to share with someone

else. In any case you would have to share it with the fleas, if not

with worse.

Perhaps you base brought your food with you, perhaps you send out a

slave to purchase it, perhaps you obtain it from the innkeeper. That

is your own affair. For the rest you must be prepared to bear with

very promiscuous and sometimes unsavoury company, and to possess

neither too nice a nose nor too delicate a sense of propriety. Your

only consolation is that the charges are low, and that if anything is

stolen from you the landlord is legally responsible.

[Illustration: FIG. 3.--PLAN OF INN AT POMPEII.]

Doubtless there were better and worse establishments of this kind.

There must have been some tolerably good quarters at Rome or

Alexandria, and at some of the resorts for pleasure and health, such

as Balae on the Bay of Naples, or Canopus at the Nile mouth. It is

true also that for those who travelled on imperial service there were

special lodgings kept up at the public expense at certain stations

along the great roads. Nevertheless it may reasonably be asked why, in

view of the generally accepted standards of domestic comfort and even

luxury of the time--what may be called middle-class standards--there

was no sufficiency of even creditable hotels. The answer is that in

antiquity the class of people who in modern times support such hotels

seldom felt the need of their equivalent. In the first place, they

commonly trusted to the hospitality of individuals to whom they were

personally or officially known, or to whom they carried private or

official introductions. If they were distinguished persons, they were

readily received, whether in town or country, on their route. In less

frequented districts they trusted to their own slaves and to the

resources of their own baggage. Their own tents, bedding, provisions

and cooking apparatus were carried with them. If they made a stay of

any length in a town, they might hire a suite of rooms.

We must not dwell too long upon this topic. Suffice it that travel was

frequent and extensive, whether for military and political business,

for commerce, or for pleasure. Some roads, particularly that "Queen of

Roads," the Appian Way--the same by which St. Paul came from Puteoli

to Rome--must have presented a lively appearance, especially near the

metropolis. Perhaps on none of these great highways anywhere near an

important Roman city could you go far without meeting a merchant with

his slaves and his bales; a keen-eyed pedlar--probably a Jew--carrying

his pack; a troupe of actors or tumblers; a body of gladiators being

taken to fight in the amphitheatre or market-place of some provincial

town; an unemployed philosopher gazing sternly over his long beard; a

regiment of foot-soldiers or a squadron of cavalry on the move; a

horseman scouring along with a despatch of the emperor or the senate;

a casual traveller coming at a lively trot in his hired gig; a couple

of ladies carefully protecting their complexions from sun and dust as

they rode in a kind of covered wagonette; a pair of scarlet-clad

outriders preceding a gorgeous but rumbling coach, in which a Roman

noble or plutocrat is idly lounging, reading, dictating to his

shorthand amanuensis, or playing dice with a friend; a dashing youth

driving his own chariot in professional style to the disgust of the

sober-minded; a languid matron lolling in a litter carried by six

tall, bright-liveried Cappadocians; a peasant on his way to town with

his waggon-load of produce and cruelly belabouring his mule. If you

are very fortunate you may meet Nero himself on one of his imperial

progresses. If so, you had better stand aside and wait. It will take

him a long time to pass; or, if this is one of his more serious

undertakings, there will be a thousand carriages, many of them

resplendent with gold and silver ornament in relief upon the woodwork,

and drawn by horses or mules whose bridles are gleaming with gold.

And, if the beautiful and conscienceless Poppaea is with him, there

may be a Procession of some five hundred asses, whose it is to supply

her with the milk in which she bathes for the preservation of her

admirable velvety skin.

There are, of course, many other individuals and types to be met with.

If you happen to be traversing certain parts of Spain, the mountains

of Greece, the southern provinces of Asia Minor, or the upper parts of

Egypt, you will perhaps also meet with a bandit, or even with a band

of them. In that case, prepare for the worst. Some of the gang have

been caught and crucified: you may have passed the crosses upon your

way. This does not render the rest more amiable. St. Paul takes it as

natural to be thus "in peril of robbers." Perhaps certain regions of

Italy itself were as dangerous as any. We have more than one account

of a traveller who was last seen at such-and-such a place, and was

never heard of again. It is therefore well, before undertaking a

journey through suspected parts, to ascertain whether any one else is

going that way. There is sure to be either an official with a military

escort or some other traveller with a retinue; at least there will be

some trusty man bearing letters, or some sturdy fellow whom you can

hire expressly to accompany you.

After allowing for this occasional embarrassment--which was certainly

not greater and almost certainly very much less than you would have

encountered in the same parts of the world a century ago--it must be

declared that, on the whole, travel by land in the Roman world of the

year 64 was remarkably safe. If it was not very expeditious, it was

probably on the average quite as much so as in the eighteenth century.

Ordinary travelling by road may not have averaged more than sixty or

seventy miles a day, although hundred miles could be done without much

difficulty, while a courier on urgent business could greatly increase

that speed.

Next let us suppose that our friend proposes to travel by sea. As a

rule navigation takes place only between the beginning of March and

the middle of November, ships being kept snug in harbour during the

winter months. The traveller may be sailing from Alexandria to the

capital or from Rome to Cadiz or to Rhodes. If a trader of sufficient

boldness, he may even be proceeding outside the empire as far as

India. If so, he will pass up the Nile as far as Coptos, then take

either the canal or the caravan route to Myos Hormos on the Red Sea,

and thence find ship for India, with a reasonable prospect--if he

escapes the Arab pirates--of completing his business and returning

home in about six months. Over 120 ships, small and great, leave the

above-mentioned harbour each year on the voyage to India, for

Alexandria is the great depot for the trade round the Indian Ocean,

and the products of India are in lively demand at Rome.

[Illustration: FIG. 4.--SHIP BESIDE THE QUAY AT OSTIA. (Wolf and twins

on mainsail.)]

On such a remote course, however, we will not follow. Let us rather

suppose that our traveller is proceeding from Alexandria, the second

city of the empire, to Rome, which is the first. In this case he may

enjoy the great advantage of going on board one those merchantmen

belonging to the imperial service, which sail regularly with a freight

of corn to feed the empire city. His port of landing will be Puteoli

(Puzzuoli) in the Bay of Naples, which was then the Liverpool of

Italy. The rest of the journey he will either make by the Appian Road,

or, less naturally, by smaller freight-ship, putting in at Ostia, the

port of Rome recently constructed by the Emperor Claudius at the mouth

of the river Tiber. His ship, a well-manned and strongly-built vessel

of from 500 tons up to 1100 or more, will carry one large mainsail,

formed of strips of canvas strengthened by leather at their joinings,

a smaller foresail, and a still smaller topsail. It will be steered by

a pair of huge paddles on either side of the stern. There will be a

crow's-nest on the mast, and at the bows a rehead of Rome or

Alexandria or of some deity, perhaps of Castor and Pollux combined. A

tolerable, but by no means a liberal, amount of cabin accommodation

will be provided. A good-sized ship might reach 200 feet in length by

50 in breadth. One of them brought to Rome the great obelisk which now

stands in the Piazza of St. Peter's; another ship had brought another

obelisk, 400,000 bushels of wheat and other cargo, and a very large

number of passengers. At a favourable season, and with a quite

favourable wind, the ship may expect to reach the Bay of Naples in as

little as eight or nine days: sometimes it will take ten days,

sometimes as many as twelve. The ship may either proceed directly

south of Crete, or it may run across to Myra in Asia Minor, or to

Rhodes, and thence proceed due west. As a rule the ancient navigator

preferred to keep somewhat near the shore. Other ships, picking up and

putting down cargo and passengers as they went along, would pass up

the Syrian coast, calling at Caesarea, Tyre, Sidon, and other places

before passing either north or south of Cyprus. From such a ship it

might be necessary--as it was with St. Paul and the soldiers to whose

care he was committed--to tranship into another vessel proceeding

directly to Italy. If, as we have imagined, the traveller is on a

cornship of the Alexandria-Puteoli line, he will reach the Bay one day

after passing the straits of Messina, and his vessel will sail proudly

up to port without striking her topsail, the only kind of ship which

was permitted to do this being such imperial liners.

There were other famous trade routes of the period. One is from

Corinth; another from the Graeco-Scythian city at the mouth of the Sea

of Azov, whence corn and salted fish were sent in abundance; a third

from Cadiz, outside the straits of Gibraltar, by which were brought

the wool and other produce of Andalusia; a fourth from Tarragona

across to Ostia, the regular route for official and passenger

intercourse with Spain. Yet another took you to Carthage in three

days. Across the Adriatic from Brindisi you would reach in one day

either Corfu or the Albanian coast at Dyrrhachium (Durazzo), where

began the great highroad to the East. Given a fair wind, your ship

might average 125 or 130 miles in the twenty-four hours, and, if you

left Rome on Monday morning, you had a reasonable prospect of landing

in Spain on the following Saturday. From Cadiz you would probably

require ten or eleven days. There was, it is true, no need to come by

sea from that town. There was a good road all the way, with a

milestone at every Roman mile, or about 1600 yards. Unfortunately that

route would generally take you nearly a month.

It is not probable that sea travelling was at all comfortable; but it

was apparently quite as much so, and quite as rapid, as it was on the

average a century ago. Ships were made strong and sound; nevertheless

shipwrecks were very frequent, as they always have been in sailing

days. Wreckers who showed false lights were not unknown. There is also

little doubt that the vessels were often terribly overcrowded; one

ship, it is said, brought no less than 1200 passengers from

Alexandria. That on which St. Paul was wrecked had 276 souls on board,

and one upon which Josephus once found himself had as many as 600. It

is incidentally stated in Tacitus that a body of troops, who had been

both sent to Alexandria and brought back thence by sea, were greatly

debilitated in mind and body by that experience. On the other hand, as

has been already stated, there was generally no such thing as a pirate

to be heard of in all the waters of the Mediterranean.

CHAPTER III

A BRIEF SURVEY OF THE PROVINCES

After thus considering, however incompletely, the manner in which the

people of the Roman world contrived to move about within the empire

itself, we may proceed to glance at the constituent parts of the world

in which they thus travelled to and fro.

And first we must draw a distinction of the highest importance between

the western and eastern halves. Naturally enough, Italy itself was

before all others the land of the Romans. It was the favoured land,

enjoyed the fullest privileges, and was the most completely romanized

in population, manners, and sentiment. Besides its larger and smaller

romanized towns--of which there were about 1200--it was dotted from

end to end with the country-seats and pleasure resorts of Romans.

North and west of Italy were various peoples, differing widely in

character, habits, and religion, as well as in physique. East of it

were various other peoples differing also from each other in such

respects, but for the most part marked by a common civilisation in

which the West had but an almost inconsiderable share. Before the

Roman conquest the nations and tribes of the West had been in general

rude, unlettered, and unorganised. Except here and there in Spain,

where the Phoenicians or Carthaginians had been at work, and in the

Greek colonies sprung from Marseilles, they had hardly possessed such

a thing as a town. They scarcely knew what was meant by civic life,

with its material luxuries and graces, its art and literature. They

were commonly small peoples without unity, brave fighters, but, in all

those matters commonly classed as civilisation, distinctly behind the

times. The superiority of the Roman in these parts was not merely one

of organised strength, military skill, and political method, it was a

superiority also of intellectual life and culture. In Spain, Gaul,

Britain, Switzerland, the Tyrol and southern Austria, and also in

North-West Africa, the Roman proceeded to organise after his own

heart, to settle his colonies, to impose his language, and to

inculcate his ideals. He was dealing with inferiors; this he fully

recognised, and so for the most part did they.

Meanwhile to the eastward also Rome spread her conquests. Here,

however, she was dealing with peoples who had already passed under

influences in many respects superior to those brought by the

conqueror, influences which were in a sense only beginning to educate

the conqueror himself. Let us here, for the sake of clearness, make a

brief digression into previous history.

Throughout the eastern half of the Mediterranean countries, conquering

Rome had been face to face with an older, a more polished, a more

keenly intellectual, and more artistic culture than her own. This was

the civilisation of Greece. We need not dwell upon the character of

Hellenic culture. Anyone who has made acquaintance with the richness

of Greek literature, the clear sureness of Greek art, the keen insight

of Greek science and philosophy, and the bold experiments of Greek

society--especially as represented by Athens--will understand at once

what is meant. When the Romans, more than two hundred years before our

date, conquered Greece, in so far as they were a people of letters or

of effort in abstract thought, in so far as they possessed the arts of

sculpture, architecture, painting, and music, they were almost wholly

indebted to Greece. Their own strength lay in solidity and gravity of

character, in a strong sense of national and personal discipline, in

the gift of law-making and law-obeying. In culture they stood to the

Greeks of that time very much as the Germans of two centuries ago

stood to the French. After their conquest by the Romans the Greeks

perforce submitted to the rule of might, but the typical Greek never

looked upon the Roman as socially or intellectually his equal. He

became himself the philosophic, artistic, and social teacher of his

conqueror. His own language was richer in literature, and it was

better adapted to every form of conversation. The Latin of the Romans

therefore made no progress in Greece or the Greek world. It might be

made the language of the Roman courts and of official documents; but

beyond this the ordinary Greek disdained to study it. On the other

hand the ordinary well-educated Roman could generally speak Greek.

Magistrates and officials were almost invariably thus accomplished,

and in Athens or Ephesus they talked Greek as we should naturally talk

French in Paris--only better, inasmuch as they learned the language in

a more rational and practical way. Nero himself could act, or thought

he could act, a Greek play and sing a Greek ode among the Greeks. Most

probably the Roman noble had been brought up by a Greek nurse, just as

so many English families formerly employed a nurse imported from

France. Nor did the Greeks merely ignore the Latin language. They

refused to be romanized in any other respect. Even the Roman

amusements tended to disgust them, and it is to the credit of his

superior refinement that the average Greek was repelled by those

brutal exhibitions of gladiatorial bloodshed and slaughter over which

the coarser Roman gloated.

When, next, we pass from Greece proper--that is to say, from the

Grecian peninsula and the islands and Asiatic shores of the Aegean

Sea--into Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt, we still find the Roman

conqueror annexing peoples more versed in the higher arts of life than

himself. For ages there had existed in these regions various forms of

advanced civilisation. The Assyrian, Babylonian, Phoenician, Hebrew,

and Egyptian cultures were old before Rome was born. Later the Persian

subjugated all these peoples. And then, four hundred years before the

time with which we are dealing, had come the Macedonian Greek

Alexander the Great, and had conquered every one of those provinces

which were subsequently to form the eastern part of the Roman Empire

as represented on our map. The language and culture of Alexander were

Greek, and he carried these and settled them with the most determined

policy in every available quarter. After his death his empire broke up

into kingdoms, but those kings who succeeded him--every Antiochus of

Syria and every Ptolemy of Egypt--were Greek. Their court was Greek,

and Hellenism was everywhere the fashion in life, thought, letters,

and art. All round the coasts, in all the great cities, on all the

main routes, up all the great river valleys of these eastern kingdoms,

this graecizing proceeded. Alexander had founded the city of

Alexandria, and soon that great and opulent city became more the home

of Greek science and literature than Athens itself. His successors

founded other great cities, such as Antioch, and there also the

civilisation was Greek.

Egyptians, Jews, and Syrians who were possessed of any kind of public,

social, or even mercantile ambition therefore naturally spoke Greek,

either only, or more often in conjunction with their native tongue.

This is the reason why the Septuagint appeared in Greek; why Greek as

well as Hebrew and Latin was written over the Cross; why our New

Testament was written in Greek; and why Paul could travel about the

eastern half of the Roman world and talk fluently wherever he went. He

could address a Roman governor directly at Paphos because that

governor had learned Greek at Rome, either in school or under his

nurse or tutor. He could stand before the Areopagus at Athens and

address that distinguished body in its own tongue because it was also

one of _his_ own tongues.

Not that one could expect the Greek culture, or even the language, to

remain pure when thus spread abroad. There were blendings of Oriental

elements, Egyptian, Jewish, or Syrian; but these elements were

themselves derived from advanced and time-honoured civilisations.

It follows, therefore, that all through the Eastern half of its domain

Rome could not contrive to romanize. She did not attempt to suppress

Greek ideas; she preferred to utilise them. So long as the Roman rule

was obeyed in its essentials, Rome was satisfied.

In the main, then, we have, outside Italy, two very distinct halves of

the Roman world: the Eastern, with its large cities, its active civic

life, its high culture, its contributions to science, art, and

luxury--and, it must be added, its general dissoluteness--with here

and there its pronounced leanings to Oriental fanaticism; and the

Western, with very few large towns, with a life more determined by

clans and tribes or country districts, with comparatively little

social culture, contributing almost nothing to art or science,

stronger in its contribution of natural products and virile men than

in those of the more refined or artificial luxury. Over this half the

Roman tongue, Roman dress, and Roman manners spread rapidly. In it

Roman settlers made themselves more at home. The aim of the better

classes of the natives was to render themselves as Roman as possible.

It is in the western part of the empire that you will find the names

which mark systematic Roman settlement and which often denote the work

of an emperor. Towns such as Saragossa (Caesarea Augusta), Aosta,

Augsburg, Autun (Augustodunum), and Augst are foundations of Augustus.

Hence the fact that Spain and Prance speak a Latin tongue at this day,

while no Latin was ever even temporarily the recognised language

between the southern Adriatic and the Euphrates.

This prime division made, let us now pass quickly round the empire,

making such brief observations as may appear most helpful as we go.

In the year 64 the south of Spain, the province of Baetica--of

which we may speak more familiarly as Andalusia--was prosperous

and peaceful, almost completely romanized and latinized. Many

of its inhabitants were true Latins, most had made themselves

indistinguishable from Latins. Along the river Guadalquivir there were

flourishing towns, chief among them being those now known as Seville

and Cordova. The whole region was one of rich pasture and tillage, and

from it the merchant ships from Cadiz brought to Rome cargoes of the

finest wool and of excellent olives and other fruits. The east of

Spain, with Tarragona for its capital, stood next in order for its

settled life and steady produce, including wine, salt fish and sauces,

while in the interior the finest steel--corresponding to the Bilbao

blades of more modern history--was tempered in the cold streams of the

hills above the sources of the Tagus. From Portugal came cochineal and

olives. In several parts of the peninsula--in Portugal, in the

Asturias, and near Cartagena--were mines of gold and silver, which had

been worked by the old Phoenicians and which the Romans had reopened.

The chief trouble of Spain, it may be interesting to learn, was the

rabbits, and against these there were no guns and no poison, but only

dogs, traps, and ferrets. In Gaul there is one province

long-established and fully romanized, with its capital at Narbonne,

and with flourishing Roman towns, which are now familiar under such

names as Aries and Nimes. This is a region over the coast of which the

culture of Greece had managed to stray, centuries before, through the

accident of a Greek colony having been founded at Marseilles. In this

province a Roman might live and feel that he was still as good as in

Italy. But beyond lay what was known as "Long-haired" Gaul, sometimes

"Trousered" Gaul, so called from the distinguishing externals of its

inhabitants, who wore breeches, let their hair grow long, and on their

faces grew only a moustache--three things which no Roman did, and from

which, even in these districts, the nobles, who were the first to

romanize, were beginning to desist.

The peoples of these Gaulish provinces preferred, like all early

Celtic communities, to give their adherence only to clans or tribes,

and to unite no further than impulse or expediency dictated, forming

no towns larger than a village, living for the most part in poor huts

scattered through forests, hills, marshes, and pasture land, and

content to sleep on straw, if only they could wear a fine plaid and

boast of a gold ornament. The names of many such tribes still remain

in the names of the towns which grew up from the chief village of each

canton. Such were the Ambiani, who have given us Amiens, and the Remi,

who have given us Rheims. Paris and Treves denote the administrative

villages of the Parisii and Treveri. Nevertheless the country had its

corn-lands and was rich in minerals and cattle, from which the hides

came regularly down the Rhone to be carried to the Mediterranean

markets. "Long-haired" Gaul was at this date rude and superstitious,

with that weird druidical religion which the Emperor Claudius had done

his best to suppress. Its chief vice was that of drunkenness. As with

the French, who have largely descended from them, the proverbial

passions of the Gauls were for war and for the art of speaking; but at

our date the former passion was decaying and the latter gaining

ground. The Gaulish provinces united at a point on the Rhone, near

which necessarily arose the largest city of that part of the world,

namely, Lugdunum, or Lyons, which speedily became not only a seat of

administration but a noted school of eloquence.

Of Britain there is as yet little to say. For the last twenty years

the Romans had done their best to conquer the Celtic tribes, who

suffered, as Celtic tribes were always apt to suffer, from their own

disunion. They had now reached the Trent--or rather a line from

Chester to Lincoln--had just punished Boudicca (or Boadicea) for her

vigorous effort at retaliation and her slaughter of 70,000 Romans or

adherents of Rome, and were following the true Roman practice of

securing what they had won by building military roads and establishing

strong posts of control, as at Colchester, Chester, and

Caerleon-on-Usk. Some amount of iron-working was being done in

Britain, but its chief exports were, as they had long been, tin, salt,

and hides. The British themselves had no towns. The places so called

were nothing more than collections of huts, surrounded by rampart and

ditch, in some easily defensible spot amid wood or marsh.

Along the Rhine it is enough to note that the Germans were being kept

in hand. South of the Danube the region now known as Styria and

Carinthia was rich in iron, and both here and all along the

mountainous tract of the Tyrol and neighbourhood Rome was steadily

pushing her language and habits by means of settlement, trading, and

military occupation. It may be remarked by the way that at this date

there were in use practically all the Alpine passes now familiar to

us--the Mont Genevre, the Little and Great St. Bernard, the Simplon,

the St. Gothard, and the Brenner.

The Upper Balkans were necessarily under military occupation, but

Macedonia was a flourishing graecized province with Thessalonica--the

modern Salonika--for its capital. Greece proper, known officially as

Achaia, had declined in every respect since the classical age of

Athens. The monuments of that city were, indeed, as sumptuous as ever;

a number had been added in Roman times, though generally in inferior

taste. Athens was still a sort of university, but its professors were

for the most part sophists or rhetoricians, beating over again the old

straws of philosophies which had once possessed a living meaning and

exercised a living force. Athens herself had never properly recovered

from the migration of learning to Alexandria. Delphi, the great

oracular seat of the Greek world, had also declined in importance,

although it could still boast of an imposing array of buildings and

memorials. The centre of commerce and of official life, a Roman colony

in the midst of Greece, a cosmopolitan and a dissolute place, was

Corinth on the Isthmus. Here Nero had intended to cut a canal through

from sea to sea--he had turned the first sod with his own hand--but

his personal extravagance caused an insufficiency of funds, and the

project met with the fate of the first enterprise at Panama. It was,

therefore, still necessary for a traveller proceeding to the East to

cross the Isthmus and reship at Cenchreae. The rest of Greece was

almost all poor and sparsely populated, and many ancient sites and

monuments were already suffering from neglect and dropping into ruin.

[Illustration: Fig. 6--THE ACROPOLIS AT ATHENS (From D'Ooge.)]

Across the Aegean, Asia Minor was in a condition of unprecedented

prosperity. It contained no less than five hundred towns of

considerable repute, chief among them being Smyrna and Ephesus, with

their handsome public buildings, open squares, theatres, gardens, and

promenades. Smyrna in particular boasted of its wide marble-paved

streets crossing each other at right angles, and provided with arcades

running along their sides. Its one defect was the want of proper

sewers. Among the sights of the world was the huge temple at Ephesus,

dedicated to Artemis, the "Great Diana" of the _Acts of the Apostles_.

This temple, the largest in the ancient world, was 425 feet long, 220

wide, and its columns were 60 feet in height and numbered 127.

South-east of the Aegean was situated the opulent Rhodes, the

handsomest and strongest port in the Mediterranean, provided with fine

harbour buildings, a seat of learning, and so full of art that it

contained no less than 3000 statues. In the somewhat desolate interior

of Asia Minor were spacious runs for sheep and horses, but wheat also

was grown, and the country could at least produce tall and sturdy

slaves. In northern Galatia the common people had not yet forgotten

the Celtic tongue which they had brought from Gaul over three

centuries ago. In the south-east, opposite Cyprus, lay Tarsus, the

birthplace of Paul, a city which combined the art of manufacturing

goats' hair into tent-cloth with the pursuit of what may be called a

university instruction in philosophy, science, and letters. In both

these local avocations the apostle employed his youth to good purpose.

Across the water Cyprus produced the copper which still bears its

name.

[Illustration: FIG. 7.--PLAN OF ANTIOCH.]

Of Syria, rich in corn and fruits, the chief city--the third in the

empire--was Antioch, a town splendidly laid out upon the Orontes in a

strikingly modern fashion. A broad street with colonnades extended in

a straight line through and beyond the city for four miles, and was

crossed by others at right angles. This street is said to have been

lighted at nights, while the Roman streets remained dark and

dangerous. In the neighbourhood of the city was the celebrated park

called Daphne, where the voluptuous and almost incredible dissipation

of the ancient world perhaps reached its acme. Like Alexandria,

Antioch was furiously addicted to horseracing.

Further down the coast Sidon produced its famous glass, and Tyre its

famous purple dye. Inland from these lay the handsome city of

Damascus, famed for its gardens and for its work in fine linen. Still

farther south was Hierosolyma, or Jerusalem, of which it is perhaps

not necessary here to give details. Its population was reckoned at a

quarter of a million.

On the coast of Egypt, after you had caught sight, some thirty miles

away, of the first glint from the huge marble lighthouse standing 400

feet high upon the island of Pharos, you arrived at Alexandria, the

second city of the Roman world and the great emporium for the trade of

Egypt, of all Eastern Africa as far as Zanzibar, and of India. From it

came the papyrus paper, delicate glass-work, muslin, embroidered

cloths, and such additions to luxury as roses out of season.

Alexandria, built like Antioch on a rectangular plan, with its chief

streets 100 feet in width, contained a Jewish quarter, controlled by a

Jewish headman and a Sanhedrin; an Egyptian quarter; and a Greek

quarter, in which were the splendid buildings of the Library with its

600,000 volumes, and the University, devoted to all branches of

learning and science--including medicine--and provided with botanical

and zoological gardens. Here also were the temple of Caesar and the

fine harbour buildings. Its population, exceedingly money-loving and

pleasure-loving, and comprising representatives of every Oriental

people, may have numbered three-quarters of a million. The circuit of

the city was about thirteen miles, and its chief street some four

miles in length.

[Illustration: FIG. 8.--EMBLEM OF ANTIOCH.]

Behind it lay Egypt, with its irrigation and traffic canals kept in

good order; with its monuments in far better preservation than

now--the pyramids, for example, being still coated with their smooth

marble sides, and not to be mounted by the present steps, from which

the marble has been torn; with its rich corn-lands, its convict mines

and quarries, the Siberia of antiquity; with its string of towns along

the Nile and its seven or, eight millions of inhabitants--mostly

speaking Coptic--and full of strange superstitions and peculiar

worship of animals.

Coming westward we reach the prosperous Cyrene, and then, by the

rather out-of-the-world Bight of Tripoli, Africa proper, where once

ruled mighty Carthage, the colony of Tyre, and where the Phoenician or

Punic language still survived among the population of mixed

Phoenicians and Berbers. Here, too, are wide and luxuriant stretches

of corn-land, upon which Rome depends only next, if next, to those of

Alexandria. Further west are the Berber tribes of Mauretania, governed

by Rome but hardly yet fully assimilated into the Roman system.

[Illustration: FIG. 9.--EMBLEM OF ALEXANDRIA.]

In the Mediterranean Sea lie Crete, a place which had now become of

little importance; Sicily, as much Greek as Roman, fertile in crops

and possessed of many a splendid Greek temple and theatre; Sardinia,

an unhealthy island infested by banditti, and employed as a sort of

convict station, producing some amount of grain and minerals; and

Corsica, which bore much the same character for savagery as it did in

times comparatively recent, and which had little reputation for any

product but its second-rate honey and its wax. The Balearic Islands

were chiefly noted for their excellence in the art of slinging for

painters' earth, and for breeding snails for the Roman table.

[Illustration: FIG. 10.--EMBLEM OF ROME. From the Column of Antoninus

at Rome.]

It remains to say that the feeling of local pride was very strong in

the rival towns of the empire. Each gloried in its distinguishing

commerce and natural advantages, and the chosen emblems of the greater

cities set forth their boasts with much artistic ingenuity. Thus

Antioch is symbolised by a female figure seated on a rock, crowned

with a turreted diadem, and holding in her hand a bunch of ears of

corn, while her foot is planted on the shoulder of a half-buried

figure representing the river Orontes. Alexandria, with her Horn of

Plenty, her Egyptian fruits, and the representations of her elephants,

asps, and panthers, as well as of her special deities, appears in

relief upon a silver vessel found at Boscoreale near Pompeii and here

reproduced.

Such in brief was the Roman Empire. How all this empire was governed,

what was meant by emperor, governor, taxation, and justice, is matter

for other chapters.

CHAPTER IV

THE IMPERIAL SYSTEM: EMPEROR, SENATE, KNIGHTS, AND PEOPLE

We have seen, and succinctly traversed, the extent of the Roman world.

The next step is to consider, as tersely as possible, its system of

government and administration about the year 64. This task is not only

entirely necessary to our immediate purpose; it is also one of great

interest and profit in itself. If we are either to see in their proper

light the experiences of such a man as St. Paul, or to understand the

long continuance of so wide an empire, we must observe carefully the

principles and methods adopted by the Romans as rulers.

We speak fluently of the "Roman Emperor" and of the "reign of Nero."

What was an emperor? What were his powers, and how did he exercise

them?

In the first place, it must be noted that, strictly speaking, Rome

acknowledged no such thing as an autocrat. It had no monarch; the

title "king" was disowned by the Caesars and entirely denied by the

people; the emperor was technically not a superior sovereign, but, on

the contrary, something inferior to a sovereign. He was the first

citizen, the "first man of the state." The state was nominally a

commonwealth, and the emperor its most important officer.

He was, to begin with, the representative of Rome as civil and

military governor of all provinces containing an army, or apparently

calling for an army. "Emperor" means military commander, and he was

the commander-in-chief of all the forces of the empire, military or

naval, but in a sense far more liberal than would now be intended by

such an expression. Of all the fighting forces he had absolute

control, determining their numbers, their service, all appointments,

their pay, and their discharge. He moved them where he chose, and,

beyond this, he possessed the power of declaring war and concluding

peace. Wherever there existed an armed force, whether in the far-off

field or in garrison, its obedience was due to him. In sign of this

every soldier, on the first of January and on the anniversary of the

emperor's accession, took a solemn oath--and an oath in those days was

felt as no mere matter of form, but as a solemn act of religion--that

he would loyally obey the commander-in-chief. The emperor's effigy was

conspicuous in the middle of every camp, and, in small, it figured on

the standard of every regiment. The sacred obligation of the soldier

to an Augustus or a Nero was kept perpetually in evidence, and he was

never allowed to forget it. Wherever the emperor appeared or

intervened in the provinces, all other powers became subordinate to

his.

[Illustration: FIG. 11.--AUGUSTUS AS EMPEROR.]

Theoretically such a commander might always be deposed by the Roman

people, acting through its Senate. In reality he was master of the

situation. If he was ever deposed, or if a new commander was ever

appointed, it was by the army. If he proved a tyrant, there was no

other means of getting rid of him than by the army, unless it were by

assassination. At such times the Senate might make a show of naming

the successor, and the army might make a show of agreeing with the

Senate, but such expressions, as Tacitus repeats, were "empty and

meaningless words." The madman Caligula had been assassinated. When,

four years after our date, Nero was compelled to flee from his palace

and was persuaded into committing suicide, it was because the soldiers

had declared against him and had elected another.

The vast powers of the emperor had come into the hands of one man

simply because the republic had been found incompetent to handle its

empire, whether from a military or a financial point of view. It

managed neither so consistently nor so honestly as did the individual.

The emperor, then, by a constitutional fiction, was an officer of the

commonwealth, commanding its forces, not only with the freedom of

action which Rome had always allowed to its experts in dealing with

the enemy, but with that freedom greatly enlarged, and with a tenure

of the office perpetually renewed.

But to him that hath shall be given--especially if he is in a position

to insist on the gift. The emperor's military authority, his position

as governor of provinces, could not alone rightfully qualify him to

control Rome itself, with its laws, its magistrates, its domestic and

provincial policy. Theoretically the Roman emperor never did control

these matters.

In practice he did with them very much as he chose. If he seriously

wished a certain course to be followed, a certain law to be passed or

abolished, even a certain man to be elected to an office, it was

promptly done. But how could he thus perpetually interfere and yet

appear to remain a constitutional officer? Not through the mere

obsequiousness of every one concerned, including the Senate. That

would be too transparent, clumsy, and invidious. It was necessary that

he should possess some adequate appearance of real authority, and he

was therefore ingeniously invested with that authority. It was thus.

There were under the commonwealth certain annual officers of wide and

rather indefinite powers called "tribunes of the commons." These

persons could veto any measure which they declared to be in opposition

to the interests of the people. They could also summon the Senate, and

bring proposals before it. Meanwhile their persons were "sacrosanct,"

or inviolable, during their term of office. Here lay the opportunity.

The emperor was invested by the Senate with these "powers of the

tribune." He was not actually elected a tribune, for the office was

only annual and could not be held along with any other, whereas the

emperor must have the prerogatives always, and in conjunction with any

other functions which he might choose to hold. He, therefore, only

received the corresponding "powers" and privileges. This position

enabled him to veto a measure whenever he chose, and with impunity.

Naturally therefore it became the custom, as far as possible, to find

out his wishes beforehand, and to move accordingly. He could also, in

the same right, summon the Senate and bring measures, or get them

brought, before it. To make certainty doubly certain, he was granted

the right to what we should call "the first business on the

notice-paper."

Observe further the shrewdness of the first emperor, Augustus, when he

selected this particular position. The "tribunes of the commons" were

constitutionally popular champions; they represented the interests of

the common people. By assuming a position similar to theirs, the

emperor--or commander-in-chief--made it appear to the common people

that he was their chief and perpetual representative, and that their

interests were bound up with his authority. He took them under his

wing, and saw, among other things, that they did not starve or go

stinted of amusements. He saw to it that they had corn for their

bread, plenty of water, and games in the circus. His "bread and games"

kept them quiet.

Supported by the army on one side, with his person secure, enjoying

the right of initiative and the right of veto, this officer of the

"commonwealth" became indeed the Colossus who bestrode the Roman

world. He was invariably made also the Pontifex Maximus, or chief

guardian of the religious interests of Rome. He might in addition

receive other constitutional appointments--for example, that of

supervisor or corrector of morals--whenever these might suit a special

purpose. What more could a man desire, if he was satisfied to forego

the name of autocrat so long as he possessed the substance? It was

quite as much to the purpose to be called _Princeps_, or "head of the

state," as to be called a king, like the Parthian or other Oriental

monarchs. Among the Romans, therefore, "Princeps" was his regular

title. The Graeco-Oriental half of the empire, which had long been

accustomed to kings and to treating them almost as gods, frankly

styled this head of the state "king" or "autocrat," but no true Roman

would forget himself so far as to lapse into this vulgar truth.

One other title, however, the Romans did attach to their "Princeps."

Something was still wanting to bring home, to both the Roman and the

provincial, the peculiarly exalted position of so great a man;

something which should be a recognition of that majesty which made him

almost divine, at least with the divinity that doth hedge a king. The

title selected for this purpose was _Augustus_, a word for which there

is no nearer English equivalent than "His Highness," or perhaps "His

Majesty," if we imagine that term applied to one who, by a legal

fiction, is not a king. The insane Caligula called himself, or let

himself be called, "Lord and Master," and later Domitian temporarily

added to this title "God," but even Nero claimed neither of these

modest epithets.

Here, then, is the position of Nero: Commander-in-chief of all the

forces of Rome by land and sea, and master of its foreign policy; the

titular protector of its commons and therefore inviolable of person

and virtual controller of laws and resolutions; official head of the

state religion; rejoicer in the style of "His Highness the Head of the

State." To speak ill of him, or to do anything derogatory to his

authority, was _lese majeste_.

[Illustration: FIG. 12.--COIN OF NERO. British Museum.]

Reference has several times been made to the Senate. It is time now to

speak briefly of that body. For the sake of clearness, however, we

must include a survey of the recognised constituent elements or

"orders" of Roman society.

The body politic consisted nominally of all who where known as "Roman

citizens." These included men of every rank, from the artisan, the

agricultural labourer, or even the idle loafer--of whom there was more

than plenty--up through every grade of the middle classes to the

richest and bluest-blooded aristocrat who considered himself in point

of birth more than the equal of the emperor. Any such citizen was

secured in person and property by the Roman laws. It was a punishable

act for the local authorities at Philippi to take Paul, a "Roman

citizen," and, before he was condemned, chastise him with rods.

According to the letter of the constitution, the power of electing all

officers of state, and of passing laws, had belonged to this

miscellaneous body, the "people," gathered in assembly. Meanwhile the

power of determining foreign policy and controlling the finances had

lain with a special body, consisting largely of the aristocracy and of

ex-officers of state, known as the "Senate." We are not here concerned

with the causes of the changes which buried this constitution out of

sight, but only with the actual state of things in the year 64.

In point of fact there were, under the emperors, no longer any

assemblies of the "people"; the people at large neither elected nor

legislated. The chief articles of the constitution had fallen into

complete abeyance during the troublous times which preceded the

establishment of that poorly disguised monarchy which we know as the

empire. All real power of electing and law-making came to be in the

hands of the Senate, acting with the emperor. While the emperor

dominated the Senate, he was nevertheless glad to fall back upon that

body in justification of his own actions and as a means of keeping up

the constitutional pretence. He permitted the Senate to pass

resolutions, and to exercise authority, just so far as there was no

conflict with his own pronounced wishes and interests. It was not his

policy to interfere and irritate when there was no occasion. On the

other hand, when he desired a piece of legislation or an important

administrative novelty, he preferred that it should be backed up by

the sanction, or promoted by the apparently spontaneous action, of the

Senate. It then bore a better appearance, and was less open to cavil.

The people are no longer consulted at all in such matters. They have

no say in them, for they have neither plebiscite nor representative

government.

It must not be supposed that there never was friction between emperor

and Senate. The Senate was often--or rather generally--servile,

because it was intimidated. But there were times when it was inclined

to assert itself; some of its members occasionally allowed themselves

a certain freedom of speech, toward which one emperor might be

surprisingly lenient or good-naturedly contemptuous, and another

outrageously vindictive. In the year 64 the Senate was outwardly

docile enough, although at heart it was anything but loyal to his

Highness Nero the Head of the State. It must always be remembered that

among the Senate were included many of the highest-born, proudest, and

strictest of the Roman nobles or men of eminence. To them the whole

succession of emperors was still a series of upstarts--the family of

the Caesars--usurping powers which properly belonged to the Senate.

You could not expect these persons, aristocrats at heart, and many of

them true patriots, bearing names distinguished throughout Roman

history, to acquiesce in the spectacle of one who was no better than

they, as he passed up to his huge palace on the Palatine Hill,

escorted by his guards, or as he entered the Senate-House to give what

were practically his orders, perhaps scarcely deigning to recognise

men whose families had been illustrious while his was obscure. At

times a member here or there was calculating his own chances of

supplanting the man who galled him by condescension, or coldness, or

even insult. These aristocrats felt as the French nobles might feel

with Napoleon. And on his side the emperor, good or bad, never felt

quite safe from a plot to overthrow him. On the whole these earlier

emperors were much engaged in keeping the Senate in its place, and

were inclined, with quite sufficient reason, to be jealous and

suspicious of its more important members.

It was natural, therefore, that they should keep a very practical

control over the composition of that body. The situation was much as

if a modern nation were ruled by a virtual autocrat assisted by a

House of Peers. The senators and their families formed a "senatorial

order." So far as the Romans had such a thing as a peerage under the

empire, it is to be found in the senatorial order. And as a title may

now be either hereditary or conferred by the sovereign as the "fount

of honour," so, under the Roman emperors, the right to belong to the

senatorial order might come from birth or from the choice of the head

of the state. Normally you belonged to the "order" if you were the son

of a senator; you ranked in that class of society. To belong to the

Senate itself and to take part in its debates you must then have held

a certain public office and must possess not less than L8000. The

L8000 is the minimum. Most senators were rich, and some were

enormously wealthy. They are found with a capital of L3,000,000 or

L4,000,000 and an income up to L150,000. As for the public office

which you must first hold, you could not even be a candidate for it

unless you were already of the "order." If, when you are a senator,

there is anything serious against you, or if you become impoverished,

your name may be expunged from the list. Otherwise you remain a

senator all your life, and your son in turn is of the "order," and may

pass into the Senate by the same process. If you were a popular or

highly deserving person, and from any accident had lost your property,

the emperor would frequently make up the deficiency, or your brother

senators would subscribe the necessary amount.

But an emperor could meanwhile raise to the "order" anyone he chose.

He could give him standing, and so make him eligible as a candidate

for that public office which was preliminary to entering the actual

Senate. Moreover, when it came to the elections to this office which

served as the indispensable stepping-stone to the Senate-House, the

vacancies were limited in number, and the emperor had the right of

either nominating or recommending the candidates whom he preferred.

Needless to say, those candidates were invariably elected. It was, of

course, monstrous arrogance for Caligula to boast that he could make

his horse a consul if he chose, but the taunt contained a measure of

truth.

Let us then put the case thus. Imagine that a modern senate is

recruited from persons whose names are in the _Peerage and

Baronetage_, and that, before any scion of such a family can enter the

Senate itself, he must go through some sort of under-secretaryship, to

which he must first be elected.

But next imagine that the sovereign can raise to the rank of "peerage

or baronetage" some favoured person whose family does not yet figure

in _Debrett_. Such a man is then entitled to put his name on the list

of candidates for the necessary under-secretaryship, and, when the

sovereign reviews that list, he marks the candidate as nominated or

recommended by himself. So he passes into the Senate.

Most emperors did this but sparingly. They made the Senate an

aristocratic and wealthy body, keeping its numbers at somewhere near

600. We must not be perpetually assuming that the Caesars were either

reckless or unscrupulous, because two or three were of that character.

Many of them were remarkably capable and sagacious men. They

recognised the need of ability and high character in their Senate.

They had themselves enough of the old Roman exclusiveness to keep

their honours from being made too cheap, and the probability is that

under their rule the Senate was quite as honourable and quite as able

a body as it was at any time under the republic.

The feeling of _noblesse oblige_ was strongly implanted in this

senatorial class. The wealth of most members also put them above the

more sordid temptations. The senator was not permitted to undertake

any mercantile or financial business. The ancient notion still

survived, that the only really honourable occupations for money were

war and agriculture. The senator might own land and dispose of its

produce or receive its rents, but he could not, for instance, be a

money-lender or tax-farmer. Sometimes, no doubt, a senator evaded

these provisions by employing a "dummy," but we must not probe too

deep under the surface. In compensation for this disability it was

from the senatorial class that were drawn all the governors of the

important provinces, except Egypt, and all the higher military

officers. In these capacities they received salaries. The governor of

Africa, for example, was paid L10,000 a year.

Such men were no mere inexperienced aristocrats or plutocrats. They

had regularly passed through a military training in youth, and had

then held a minor civil appointment, commonly involving some knowledge

of public finance. Next they had passed into the Senate and taken part

in its business; had then held other public offices which taught them

practical administration and probably legal procedure; and had

afterwards been put in command of a "legion," that is to say, a

brigade or _corps d'armee_. After performing such functions with

credit, a senator might be sent to govern Syria or Macedonia or

Britain or some other province. He was then a man of varied experience

and ripe judgment, trained in official discipline and etiquette, as

well as in knowledge. This was the kind of man whom Paul met in Cyprus

in the person of the governor Sergius Paulus, or at Corinth in the

person of Gallio.

Certain smaller provinces might be administered by men of another

order, who were neither filled with the senatorial traditions nor had

passed through the senatorial career. These were but "factors" or

"agents" of Caesar, and among them were the Pontius Pilate, Felix, and

Festus, who were administrators of Judaea in New Testament times.

Next in rank to the senatorial order stood that of the "Knights." If

the senators represent, in a certain sense, the peerage and

baronetage, the next order represents--also in a certain sense.--the

knightage. Generally speaking, it comprehended what we should call the

upper middle classes, and particularly those concerned in the higher

walks of finance; such persons as, with us, would be the directors or

managers of great companies and banks. It also included persons whom

the head of the state chose to honour with something less than

senatorial standing. Many of these men were extremely wealthy, but the

minimum property qualification stood at only L3200, and Roman citizens

who possessed that amount were rather apt to pose as knights, and to

be commonly spoken of as such by a kind of courtesy title, although

their names could not be found upon the authorised rolls. Though

several emperors did their best to stop this practice, the endeavour

was for the most part fruitless. Once in England the "esquires" were a

class with certain recognised claims, but nothing could stop the

polite tendency to add "Esq." to the name of a person on a private

letter. The case was somewhat similar at Rome, although the practice

did not proceed quite so far.

Nevertheless there was a distinct and official roll of "Roman

knights," whom the head of the state had honoured with a public

present of "the gold ring," a ceremony corresponding to the royal

sword-stroke of modern times. This body, mounted on horses nominally

presented by the public, and riding in procession through the streets,

was reviewed and revised every year. Their roll was called, and if a

name was omitted from its proper place, it meant--without explanation

necessary--that by the pleasure of the emperor the person in question

had ceased to be a knight. Every member of the already-mentioned

higher or senatorial order was by right a knight until he actually

became a senator, from which time he ceased to enjoy the privileges of

a knight because he was enjoying those of the higher order rank. For

there were privileges as well as disabilities in each case. As a

senator could govern large provinces and command armies, but could not

engage in purely financial business; so the knight could--and almost

alone did--conduct the large financial enterprises of the Roman world,

but could not command armies nor hold any of the great public offices

or higher provincial appointments, except the governorship of Egypt.

Relatively to the senators the emperor was technically only "first

among equals"; he was the first senator, as well as the first man of

the state. At this date a senator would hold a truly public office,

civil or military, with or under this "superior equal," but he would

not act as his personal agent or assistant. The Roman aristocrat had

not yet learned to serve in that capacity, still less on the

"household" staff of the autocrat. There were as yet no highly placed

Romans serving as Lord High Chamberlain, much less as Private

Secretary. The "knights" stood in a different position. They were

prepared to be the emperor's personal agents, just as they were

prepared to be the agents of any one else, if sufficiently

remunerated. They would take his personal orders, whether in managing

his estates, collecting his provincial revenues, or relieving him of

some routine portion of his own official labour.

It follows that it was often more lucrative to be a knight than a

senator, and a number of senators were not unwilling to give up their

rank, for the same reasons which induce a modern peer to serve on

companies or a peeress to open a shop. On the other hand many a knight

would have declined to become a senator, at least until he had

sufficiently feathered his nest. The inducement to become or remain a

senator was the social rank, the honour and dignity, with their

outward insignia and the deference paid to them, the front seat, and

the reception at court. In these the wives also shared, and at Rome

the influence of the wife could not be disregarded.

If you met a senator, or a person of senatorial rank, in the street,

you would know him for such by the broad band of purple which ran down

the front, and probably also down the back, of his tunic, and by the

silver or ivory crescent which he wore upon his black shoes. His wife,

it is perhaps needless to say made even more show of what is called

the "broad stripe." If you met a knight, you would perceive his

standing by his two narrow stripes of purple appearing upon the same

part of his dress. Each would wear a gold ring; but that in itself

would prove nothing, since, despite all attempts at prohibiting the

custom, every Roman who could afford a gold ring permitted himself

that luxury.

If you entered one of the large semicircular theatres, which are to be

described in due course, you would find that the men wearing the broad

stripe seated themselves in the chairs which stood upon the level in

front of the stage, while those wearing the narrow stripes would

occupy the first fourteen tiers of seats rising just behind them. No

one else might, occupy those places. If some one who had been

improperly posing as a knight, or who had been degraded from his rank

because he had wasted his credit and his money and no longer possessed

either L3200 or a reputation, ventured to seat himself in the fourteen

rows in the hope of being unnoticed, he would be speedily called upon

by the usher to withdraw. Snobs occasionally made the attempt, and, at

a somewhat later date, we have an amusing epigram of Martial

concerning one who repeatedly but unsuccessfully dodged the usher and

who was at last compelled to kneel in the gangway opposite the end of

the fourteenth row, where it might look to those behind as if he were

sitting among the knights, while technically he could claim that he

was not sitting at all.

Elsewhere also, as for instance at the chariot-races in the Circus,

and at the gladiatorial shows in the amphitheatre, there were special

places set apart for the two orders.

Below the senators and the knights came the "people,"--the "commons,"

or "third estate"--with all its usual grades and its usual variety of

occupation or no occupation, of manners and character or absence of

both. With the life of these, as with the life of a noble, we shall

deal at the proper time.

So much for the Roman citizen proper. Other elements of the population

were the foreigners. At Rome these were exceedingly numerous, and the

city may in this respect be called--as indeed it was called--a

microcosm, a small copy or epitome of the Roman world. Gauls,

Africans, Greeks, Jews, Syrians, and Egyptians were perhaps the most

commonly to be seen, but particularly prominent were the Greeks and

the Jews. The Greeks were recognised above all as the clever men, the

artists, the social entertainers, and the literary guides. The Jews,

who formed a sort of colony in what is now known as Trastevere--the

low-lying quarter across the Tiber--were not yet the princes of high

finance. As yet they were chiefly the hucksters and petty traders,

notorious for their strange habits and for the fanaticism of their

religion, which nevertheless exercised a strange potency and made many

proselytes even in high places, especially among the women. Poppaea,

the wife of Nero himself, is commonly considered to have been such a

proselyte, although the strange notion that she herself was a Jewess

is without any sort of foundation. It is a common error to suppose

that the Jews came to Rome only after the destruction of Jerusalem.

The dispersion had occurred long before Rome had anything to do with

Judaea, and naturally the enterprising Jew was to be found in all

profitable places, whether in Alexandria, Antioch, Smyrna, Corinth,

Rome, or farther afield.

In the political sense all these foreigners belonged to their own

provinces and communities. They might be citizens there, but they were

not citizens at Rome. At Rome they had no public claims and no

official career, unless--as not seldom happened--they received, for

some service or some distinction, the gift of the Roman citizenship.

Sometimes the citizenship was given wholesale to a town, or even to a

province. How the Hebrew father or grandfather of St. Paul became a

Roman citizen, we do not know. Their own abilities or the emperor's

favour might carry such citizens, or their children, up all the steps

which were open to the ordinary Roman.

After the foreigners come the slaves. At Rome itself they formed about

one-third of the population. This is not the moment for any detailed

account of their employment, their treatment, or their liberation.

Suffice it for the present that the slave possessed no rights at all.

He was the chattel of his master, who possessed over him the full

power of life and death, limited only by public opinion and prudential

considerations. A Roman might have at his disposal one slave or ten

thousand slaves. He could use them as he liked, kill them if he chose,

and, subject to certain limitations, set them free if he willed,

provided that he did not set too many free at once. The last

restriction was especially necessary, inasmuch as a slave who was

manumitted by his master with the proper ceremonies became _ipso

facto_ a Roman citizen, but was still bound by certain ties of loyalty

to his former master. For a Roman to possess too large an attachment

of "freedmen," as they were called, might prove dangerous. The

"freedman," though a citizen, could not himself enter upon a public

career; neither, in ordinary circumstances, could his children; but in

the third generation the family stood on an entire equality with any

other Roman family in that respect.

For the present it may be added that our conception of the meaning of

the word "slave" must not be that attached to its modern use. Many

such slaves were men of great special or general ability, or men of

high culture, especially if Greeks, Syrians, Jews, or Egyptians. They

were frequently superior to their masters, and subsequently, as free

citizens, added much to either the refinement or the over-refinement

of Roman life. Perhaps it is as well, in passing, to point out that

the later Roman people was in no small degree descended from all this

aggregation of foreigners and emancipated slaves, and that we must

speak with the greatest reservation when we describe the modern Roman

as a direct descendant of the ancient stock who fought with Hannibal

and subjugated the world.

CHAPTER V

NERO THE EMPEROR

Roughly then this is the situation at the centre of government.

Sumptuously housed on the Palatine Hill--the origin of our word

"palace"--is His Highness Claudius Nero, Head of the State,

Commander-in-Chief of the Forces, Empowered to act as Tribune of the

People, and Head of the State Religion: in modern times commonly

called "the Emperor." Every day and night his palace is surrounded by

a regiment of the Imperial Guards, and attached to his person is a

special corps for bodyguard, and orderlies. In practice, whatever be

the theory, he possesses the control of legislation and appointments;

upon him practically depends all recognised distinction of social

rank. Down below, to the side of the Forum, is the Senate-House, in

which there gathers, twice each month, and oftener if summoned, the

great deliberative body which, in spite of all disturbances, civil

wars, and limitations or broadenings of its power, is the continuation

of the assembly of grave Roman fathers who first met some eight

hundred years before. These men, who are of birth and wealth and

commonly of sound public training, are the nominal upholders and

directors of the commonwealth, still left to perform many functions

and to administer the more peaceful provinces in their own

way--especially if they relieve the emperor of trouble--but in

practice controlled by His Highness whenever and however it suits his

purpose. They and the emperor form a partnership in authority, but the

Senate is very distinctly the junior partner. They lend him advice or

sanction when he seeks it, and they sometimes act as a break on his

impetuosity. It is not well to alienate them, for they are proud; they

are jointly, sometimes individually, powerful; and their moral weight

with army and public is not to be despised.

Thus stands the central government, while socially there follows the

order of the Knights, depending for their rank upon the emperor, and

in many cases serving in his employ. Below these the populace, of

whose rights and liberties the emperor is an official champion to whom

theoretically any Roman citizen can appeal against a sentence of death

or against cruel wrong. It is hard to conceive of a stronger position

for one man to hold.

When we survey this vast aggregation of various provinces, with their

differences of race, language, religion, and habits; when we remember

that it was on the whole strictly, energetically, and legally

administered; it is hard--even allowing for a wise Senate and capable

ministers--to realise a man competent for the position.

Yet Augustus had been conspicuously successful, and Tiberius not less

so; Claudius, despite a certain weakness, cannot by any means be

called a failure; after Nero, Vespasian and Titus were capable enough;

while Trajan deserves nothing but admiration. On the other hand

Caligula, it is true, had had more than a touch of the madman in his

composition, and had believed himself to be omnipotent and on a level

with Jupiter. Nero had begun well, but had been led by vanity, vice,

and extravagance to an astounding pitch of folly and oppression.

Nevertheless it must be remarked, and it should be firmly emphasised,

that what is called the tyranny of Caligula and Nero is mainly--and in

Caligula's case almost solely--a tyranny affecting the Romans

themselves, affecting the lives and property of the Roman senators and

other prominent persons, and affecting the lives and honour of their

wives and daughters. The outcry against these two emperors comes from

the Romans, not from the subject peoples. At least in Caligula's case

the provinces were as peaceful and prosperous as at other times. It is

true that the madman once meant to insist on the Jews putting up his

own statue in the temple at Jerusalem, but this was because his vanity

was aggrieved by their unwillingness. Under Nero the case is much the

same. His tyranny for the most part took the shape of cruelty, insult,

and plunder in Rome itself. It was only when he was becoming

hopelessly in debt that he began to plunder the provinces as well as

Italy by demanding contributions of money, and in particular to seize

upon Greek works of art without paying for them. It is a mistake to

think of Nero as habitually and without scruple trampling under his

blood-stained foot the rights and privileges of the provinces, or

grinding from them the last penny, or harrying, slaying, and violating

throughout the empire.

There is nothing to show that, during the greater part of his reign,

the provinces at large felt any material difference between the rule

of Nero and the rule of Claudius, or that they rejoiced particularly

in his fall. In many quarters he was a favourite. In the latter half

of his reign he made himself a brute beast, and often a fool, in the

eyes of respectable Romans. But it was, as still more with Caligula,

rather in his immediate environment that his tyranny was felt to be

intolerable; that is to say, among the men and women who had the

misfortune to come in his way with sufficient attraction of purse or

beauty to awaken his cupidity. And these were the Romans themselves,

senators and knights, not the populace, and in but a small degree, if

at all, the provincials in Spain or Greece or Palestine.

[Illustration: FIG. 13.--BUST OF SENECA. Archeologische Zeitung.]

Perhaps this is the time to look for a little while at this Nero,

whose name has deservedly passed into a byword for heartless

bestiality. In the year 64 he is 27 years of age, and has been seated

on the throne for ten years. Four years more are to elapse before he

perishes with the cry, "What an artist the world is losing!" In his

early years his vicious propensities, inherited from an abominable

father, had been kept in check partly by his preceptor, the

philosopher Seneca, and by Burrus, the commander of the Imperial

Guards, partly by his domineering and furious-tempered mother,

Agrippina, who seems to have so closely resembled the mother of Lord

Byron. But at this date he had got rid of both his tutors. Burrus was

dead, probably by poison, and Seneca was in forced retirement. The

emperor had also caused his own mother to be murdered. Poisoning,

strangling, drowning, or a command--explicit or implied--to depart

this life, were his ways of shaking off any incubus upon a free

indulgence of his will. His follies and vices had revealed themselves

from the first, and had gone to outrageous lengths, but now he is

entirely unhampered in exhibiting them.

[Illustration: Photo--Mansell & Co. FIG. 14--BUST OF AGRIPPINA, MOTHER

OF NERO.]

Educated slightly in philosophy, but better in music and letters, he

could speak, like others of his day, Greek as well as his native

Latin. His aim was to be an "artist," but if the want of balance which

too often goes with what is called the "artistic temperament" ever

manifested itself in its worst form, it was in Nero. Apart from his

passion for music and verse, he developed an early mania for

horse-racing, and when he was caught talking in school--where such

conversation was forbidden--about a charioteer who had fallen out of

his chariot and been dragged along the ground, he explained that he

was discussing the passage in Homer where Achilles drags the body of

Hector round the walls of Troy. In after life he carried both forms of

mania to amazing lengths. The highest form of music was then

represented by singing to the harp. Nero's ambition was no less than

to compete with the champion minstrels of the world. As he remarked,

"music is not music unless it is heard," and he decided to make public

appearances upon the stage like any professional. Whenever he did so,

a number of energetic youths, salaried for the purpose, were

distributed among the audience as _claqueurs_--the words actually used

for them being perhaps translatable as "boomers" or "rattlers." He

acted parts in plays--a proceeding which would correspond to an

appearance in opera--and made a peregrination through Greece and back

by way of Naples as an exponent of the art of singing to the harp.

While upon this tour, whenever he was performing in the theatre, the

doors were shut, and no one might leave the building for any reason

whatever. "Many," says the memoir-writer, "got so tired of listening

and praising that they jumped down from the wall, or pretended to be

dead, so as to get carried out." Naturally he always won the prize,

and, on his side, it should be remarked that he honestly believed he

had earned it. He practised assiduously, took hard physical training,

regulated his diet for the cultivation of his voice, which was not

naturally of the best, and probably became not at all a bad amateur.

His monstrous self-conceit did the rest. Besides singing to the harp,

he was prepared to perform upon the flute and the bagpipes, and to

give a dance afterwards. All this, of course, was undignified and

ridiculous, but it was scarcely tyranny. Doubtless there was

sufficient suffering among the audience, but that cruelty was hardly

deliberate. In the Roman noble, whose ideal of behaviour included

dignity and gravity, these public appearances perhaps often aroused

more indignation and scorn than did his sensual vices. The same

contempt was often evoked by other proceedings of a similar nature.

His insatiable fondness for horse-racing, or rather chariot-racing,

induced him to appear also as a charioteer. First he practised in his

extensive private park or gardens, which were situated across the

Tiber on the ground now approximately occupied by St. Peter's and the

Vatican. When he appeared at the Olympic games driving a team of ten

horses, he was thrown out of the car, and had to be lifted into it

again. Though he was eventually compelled to abandon the race, he was,

of course, crowned victor all the same. He dabbled also in painting

and modelling.

We must not dwell too long upon his eccentricities. One might describe

how in his earlier years he often put on mufti and roamed the streets

at night with a few choice Mohawks, broke into shops, and insulted

respectable citizens, throwing them into the drains if they resisted;

how, being unrecognized, he once received a sound thrashing from a

person of the senatorial order, and was thereafter attended on such

occasions by police following at a distance. One might describe his

dicing at L3 or L4 a pip, or his banquets, at one of which he paid as

much as L30,000 for roses from Alexandria. After the great

conflagration which swept over a large part of Rome in this very year

64 he began to build his enormous Golden House, in which stood a

colossal effigy of himself 120 feet high, and in which the circuit of

the colonnade made three Roman miles. Whether he deliberately set fire

to the city in order to make room for this stupendous palace is open

to doubt. It was naturally believed at the time, and, in order to

divert suspicion from himself, he turned it upon those persons for

whom the Roman populace had at that moment the greatest contempt,

because, as the historian puts it, of their pestilent superstition and

of a profound suspicion that they harboured a "hatred of the human

race." These were the new sect of the Christians, and with burning

Christians did Nero proceed to light up his gardens on one famous

night, as a means of placating the populace whom he had offended, but

who for the most part loved him for his misplaced generosity in the

matter of "bread and sports." The tolerant attitude of the Romans

towards foreign religions will be discussed in its own place; but the

cruelty of a Nero in the year 64 can hardly be put down as properly a

religious persecution in any way typical of the Roman government.

The sensual vices of Nero are indescribable, and that word must

suffice. His extravagances, whether in lavish presents or in personal

expenditure, soon rendered him bankrupt. He had no means of paying the

soldiers or meeting his own appetites. Then began, or increased, his

attacks on wealthy persons, his executions and banishments of senators

and other wealthy men, and his flimsy pretexts for all manner of

confiscation. The Senate he hated and the Senate hated him.

Nevertheless, so far as the empire itself was concerned, no systematic

or widespread oppression can have been perceptible. His officers and

the officers of the Senate were apparently all the time governing and

administering the law and the taxation throughout the empire in as

sound and steady a way as if an Augustus sat upon the throne.

If we wish to picture Nero to ourselves, here is his description: "He

was of a fairly good height; his skin was blotched, and his odour

unpleasant; his hair was inclined to be yellow; his face was more

handsome than attractive; his eyes were grayish-blue and

short-sighted; his neck was fat; he was protuberant below the waist;

his legs were very slender; his health was good."

Such was the man to whom St. Paul elected to have his case referred,

when at Caesarea he exercised his privilege as a Roman citizen and

appealed to the titular protector of the commons. "Thou hast appealed

unto Caesar, and unto Caesar shalt thou go." There is indeed no great

probability that the apostle was ever brought directly before this

precious emperor. We may perhaps draw from bur inner consciousness

elaborate and interesting pictures of the two men confronting each

other, but we must not forget that they will be pure imagination. The

appeal of a citizen did not imply such right to an interview, for the

Caesar in such minor cases commonly delegated his powers to other

judicial authorities at Rome. Paul's object was gained if his case was

safely removed from the local influences of Judaea and the weaker

policy of its governor, the "agent of Caesar," to the capital with its

broader-minded men and its superiority to small bribes and local

interference.

[Illustration: FIG. 15.--BUST OF NERO.]

CHAPTER VI

ADMINISTRATION AND TAXATION OF THE EMPIRE

We are now brought to the consideration of the methods by which this

huge empire was organised and governed.

And first let us observe that the Romans--strict disciplinarians and

great lawyers as they were--never sought to impose upon the subject

provinces any uniformity. They never sought, any more than Great

Britain has sought, to erect one code of law, one form of

administration, one standard of rights, one rate of taxation, one

religion, and to make it equally applicable to Spain and Britain,

Greece and Africa, Gaul and Asia Minor. There were, of course, common

to all the empire certain rules essential to civilisation, certain

natural laws and laws of all nations. Murder, violence, robbery,

deliberate sacrilege, and so forth were punishable everywhere, though

not necessarily by the same authority nor in the same manner.

Necessarily it was held everywhere that contracts must be fulfilled

and debts paid. Beyond the fact that Rome demanded peace and order and

the essentials of civilised life, and provided machinery to secure

those ends, she troubled little about differences of local procedure

and varieties of local law, so long as the Roman rule was duly

recognised and the Roman taxes duly paid. As with Great Britain, her

care was for results, not for machinery, or, as the great Roman

historian puts it, she "valued the reality of the empire, not the

show."

Outside Italy there spread the provinces. These had been conquered or

peacefully annexed at various times. A number of small states had come

in by perpetual alliance. Some provinces, such as Gaul, had formerly

been divided among tribes and tribal chiefs. Some, such as Greece, had

consisted of highly civilised city-communities with small territories

and managing their own affairs, although they might all alike be

acknowledging the suzerainty of some powerful prince. Some, such as

Cappadocia, Syria, and Egypt, had been under their native kings.

Judaea was a peculiar example of a small theocratic state, in which

the chief power lay with the priests.

Rome was too wise to meddle more than she need with existing

conditions. She preferred as far as possible to accept the existing

machinery and to use it, with only necessary modifications, as her

instrument of administration. To the Sanhedrin at Jerusalem, for

example, she conceded a large criminal jurisdiction over

ecclesiastical offenders, so long as that jurisdiction did not limit

the universal rights of a "Roman citizen."

When a province was conquered, all its territory became technically

the property of the Roman state. Some of it was kept as such, and

mines of gold, silver, lead, iron, and salt, or quarries of marble,

granite, and gravel, were commonly annexed as state property. If it

was expedient to allot some portion of the conquered land to a Roman

settlement--commonly a settlement of veteran soldiers called a

"colony"--that was done. Such a settlement meant the founding of a

town, to which was granted a certain environment of land. Those who

took part in its formation were "Roman citizens" and forfeited no

rights as such. As the native people came in from the surrounding

districts to reside in it, they also, it appears, somewhat easily

acquired similar privileges. Here the Roman law existed in its

entirety. A colony was almost exactly a little Rome in respect of its

system of officers and its legal procedure. Sometimes a town which had

not originally been so founded might be made a "colony" by receiving a

draft of Romans, and sometimes it was made such in sheer compliment.

In the Eastern half of the empire such settlements were comparatively

rare; they were but dots upon the map, as at Corinth, Philippi,

Antioch in Pisidia, or Caesarea. In the West they were much more

numerous. The south of France contained many; a number also existed in

southern Spain. So many indeed were planted in these parts that they

became, as has been already remarked, completely romanized. Farther

north Cologne still perpetuates its Roman name of Colonia.

Nevertheless in the West the bulk of the land of the provinces is far

from being taken up, in the year 64, by colonies.

Apart from the lands thus appropriated, what happens to the rest of

the conquered territory which is theoretically Roman property?

Generally it is handed back to its original inhabitants, on condition

that they pay rent for it, whether in money or in kind, or partly in

each. Egypt pays in kind when it sends to Rome the corn in the great

merchantmen; Africa pays in kind when it does the same; the Frisians

of Holland pay in kind when they supply a certain quantity of hides.

Before the days of the Emperor Augustus there had existed for the

empire in general the abominable system of tithes, which were farmed

by companies. But after him, and at our date, for the most part the

payment is by a fixed sum of money, which has been calculated upon the

basis of those tithes. In the imperial Record Office there is a

its producing value. The amount of the land-tax to be paid into the

Roman treasury is therefore fixed. Those who read in the New Testament

that Augustus Caesar sent forth an order that "all the world--that is,

the Roman world--should be taxed" need find no difficulty in

understanding what it means. "Taxed" is Old English for assessed, as

when we speak of "taxing a bill of costs." The Greek word means simply

that a register should be made. The order of Augustus was that a

census should be taken throughout the provinces; that a return should

be made of population, property, trades, and all that a reasonable

government requires to know; and that payments should be determined

thereby. All the world had been "taxed" in the modern sense long

before Augustus, and it has been taxed, unfortunately without much

promise of respite, ever since.

The chief revenues of Rome were derived from this land-tax; but, when

combined with other taxes, a large proportion of it was spent in the

administration of the province from which it was obtained. No error

could be greater than to suppose that Roman officers simply came and

carried off all this money as booty to Rome for the pampering of its

emperor and populace. Naturally the balance which accrued for the

feeding of Borne, for Roman enjoyment and Roman buildings was very

large; and doubtless this fact was bad for the morale of Rome itself

and requires considerable casuistry to defend it. But it would be a

monstrous misconception to imagine that all the "tribute paid to

Caesar" was absolutely drained, by an act of sheer oppression, clean

out of the province year by year. No country can be protected,

policed, and have its justice administered without taxes, and the

provincials were not paying more, and were often paying much less, as

well as paying it in a more just and rational way, than when they were

being taxed by their own kings, their own oligarchies, or their own

socialistic democracies. The Roman settlements--the colonies--unless

specially exempted, had to pay the land-tax as much as any other

community. The only land which was exempt from it was Italy, and Italy

paid sundry other taxes to make up for it, at least in part. But

though Italy was first and foremost in the imperial regard, the

emperor was by no means indifferent to the welfare of the provinces.

If an earthquake, a fire, or other great calamity befell a town, it

was by no means rare for the emperor to send a large sum of money in

relief.

Besides the land-tax there was also a tax on persons and personal

property. The tax on persons was not precisely a poll-tax, except in

places like Britain and Egypt, where it was difficult to make proper

estimates otherwise, but a tax on occupations and trades. This, if we

choose, may be put down as a crude form of income-tax, although it was

not actually assessed on income. In another sense it may be regarded

as a tax on a license, assuming that we demand a license for every

kind of occupation. Italy again was exempt from this taxation also.

Obviously a census, and a regularly revised census, was necessary to

carry out this system; and Rome required a whole army of agents, just

as a modern state would require one, for assessing and collecting

these dues.

The land-tax and the person-tax were the two chief sources of Roman

revenue. These were regular and direct. There were others, subject,

like our own taxes, to increase or decrease according to

circumstances, but for the most part kept at very much the same

standards under several consecutive emperors. For instance there were

customs duties, paid on the frontiers of the empire and also on those

of provinces or natural groups of provinces, not as part of any

protective system, since the empire is all one, but as a means of

raising money from commodities. In Italy there was a duty of 2-1/2 per

cent. Luxuries from India and Arabia via Red Sea ports were specially

taxed at 25 per cent. If you sold a slave, you would pay from 2 to 4

per cent on the purchase-money. Occasionally there was a tax on

bachelors. In Italy, but not elsewhere, 5 per cent legacy duty was

paid when the recipient was not a near relative, and when the legacy

was not under L1000.

Add to these revenues the rents of state pastures, state forests, and

state mines. Into the treasury came also unclaimed property and the

property of certain classes of condemned criminals.

So much for the nature of the taxation. In point of government, the

Romans were singularly liberal. When a province was conquered or

annexed, the Senate sent out a commission of ten persons, who

carefully considered the existing state of things, the laws and forms

of administration actually in vogue, and drew up a constitution for

the province, embodying as much of these as was possible or at all

commendable; as much, in fact, as was compatible with the Roman

connection. This constitution, when sanctioned by the Senate, was

binding, whatever governor might be appointed by Rome to the province.

Such a governor might interpret the law; he could not alter it.

But though a province was a unit in so far as it was under one

governor, the Romans were firm believers in strictly local

administration. Their policy in this, as in conquest, was "divide and

rule." It did not suit their ends to make any large part of the empire

conscious of a corporate existence. The unit of administration was,

therefore, a town and its district--a "community." In Gaul there were

about sixty such divisions, each roughly corresponding in size to a

modern French "department." Such a community had its own local council

and officials, who were ultimately responsible to the governor. So

long as they performed their municipal or communal functions correctly

and honestly they were not interfered with. The chief principle upon

which Rome insisted was that their local government should be

aristocratic, or rather that office should be based on wealth. The

governor, of course, stepped in when he felt it to be his duty. He was

required to suppress all secret societies or political unions. A

strike of the bakers in one city of Asia Minor was promptly put down

by the governor as interfering with social order and social needs.

The communities made their own by-laws, they collected the land-tax of

their own district and handed it over to the financial representative

of the Roman government. This was done by men of their own people,

often of a low class, known in the Gospels as the "publicans," who

were so commonly associated with sinners. St. Matthew had been one of

the minor agents for such collection in Galilee. Other taxes--those

which were indirect--might be collected by the great tax-farming

companies of Roman "knights," who offered a lump sum for them to the

government, and made what they could out of the bargain.

One incidental consequence of this systematic division into communes

was that there spread throughout the empire a strong municipal

patriotism, especially in the Greek world. This was followed by

liberal local expenditure on the part of rich provincials in

beautifying their centres with public buildings and works of art,

chiefly, no doubt, given for the sake of the local honours with which

they were repaid, but given nevertheless.

Most of the towns or communities throughout the empire were in the

position described. Some communities, however, such as Thessalonica,

though situated inside a province, were for some special service in

the past exempted from the interference of the governor, and were

allowed to exercise their own laws to the full, even upon Roman

citizens who might happen to reside there. These were called "free"

towns. In other cases the community, having come into voluntary

alliance with Rome at an earl; date and before conquest, was still

treated as an "allied" state, and was exempted from either

interference or taxation, so long as it supplied its quota of soldiers

when called upon. Such cities, however, were distinctly the exception,

and most of them in the end preferred to come directly within the

Roman sphere of administration. They often found their burdens smaller

and less capricious than when they taxed themselves through their own

authorities.

* * * * *

The function of the governor was to see that the various local bodies

did their work, kept within their rights, and paid their taxes. He

also, either in person or by his deputies, administered justice

wherever the Roman laws were concerned. Where they were not concerned,

he necessarily acted as Gallio did with the Jewish charges against

Paul at Corinth; he dismissed the case as not demanding his

jurisdiction. Said Gallio: "If it were a question of a misdemeanour or

a crime, I should be called upon to bear with you; but if they are

questions of (mere) words and names and of your (Jewish) law, you must

see to it yourselves." When the Greeks who were standing by proceeded

to beat the chief of Paul's Jewish accusers, the governor shut his

eyes to the matter. This may have been a laxity, but it would almost

appear as if Gallio liked their behaviour.

For the purposes of justice a province was divided into "Assize

Districts," and the governor or his deputies went on circuit. In the

court he sat upon a platform in his official chair and with his

lictors in attendance. The official language of the court and of its

records was of course Latin, but in the Eastern half of the empire the

bench cannot always have pretended not to understand Greek. Since it

would not, however, understand Hebrew, the Jews would need to speak

through a representative who knew Latin, and this is apparently the

reason for the appearance of Tertullus against St. Paul at Caesarea. A

Roman citizen--that is, a person possessed of full Roman rights--if he

either denied the jurisdiction or was in danger of being condemned to

capital punishment, might, unless he had been caught red-handed in

certain heinous crimes, appeal to Caesar and claim to be sent to Rome.

Unless the governor had been expressly entrusted with exceptional

powers, or unless the case was so self-evident that he had nothing to

fear from refusing, he had no alternative but to send the appellant on

to the metropolis. Arrived there, the prisoner was taken to the

guardrooms or cells in the barracks of a special prefect who had

charge of such arrivals from abroad, and his case would in due course

be taken either by the emperor himself, if it was sufficiently

important, or by magistrates to whom the emperor delegated his powers

for the purpose.

Meanwhile, provincials other than full Roman citizens enjoyed no such

privilege. They could make no appeal. The governor was supreme judge,

and his verdict or sentence was carried out. In matters of doubt,

whether administrative or judicial, the governor might refer to the

emperor for direction or advice, and we have at a somewhat later date

a considerable collection of letters and their replies which passed in

this manner between Pliny and the Emperor Trajan.

* * * * *

A glance at the map will show some provinces named in heavy type and

some in italics. Those in _italics_ are the provinces to which the

Senate has the right to appoint the governors, in this case called

"proconsuls." Of course His Highness the Head of the State is

graciously pleased to approve the choice of the Senate; which means

that the Senate will not attempt any appointment which the emperor

would dislike. The revenues of these provinces go into a treasury

controlled by the Senate. Of those named in heavy type the emperor is

himself the governor or proconsul. Theoretically he is made governor

of all these simply because they contain, or may need, armies, and he

is the commander-in-chief of those armies. But since he is at Rome,

and in any case cannot be everywhere at once, he governs all such

provinces by means of his deputies, whom he appoints for himself. They

are his lieutenants, and are so called--to wit, "lieutenants of

Caesar" and "deputies of the commander." The revenues of these

imperial provinces are collected by an "agent" or "factor" of Caesar,

and go into a treasury controlled by the emperor. In any one of his

provinces the emperor would be its governor, and would exercise the

usual military and civil powers of a governor. His lieutenant to each

province simply acts in his place, receives the same powers, and is

the governor of that province exactly as the proconsul sent by the

Senate is governor in his. But whereas the governors in the senatorial

provinces wear the garb of peace, and are appointed, like other civil

officers, for one year only, the "deputies of Caesar," the

commander-in-chief, wear the military garb, and are kept in office

just so long as their superior thinks fit. It is as if in modern times

the governor of the one kind of province made his public appearances

in civilian dress, and the governor of the other kind in uniform.

The actual outcome of this system was that the provinces of the

emperor were on the whole better administered than those of the

Senate. In the latter, changes were too frequent, and a governor might

sometimes strain a point to enrich himself quickly. But it must on no

account be imagined that at this date a governor could with impunity

be extortionate or oppress the provincials, as he too often did in the

good old days of the republic. He was paid his salary, which might be

anything up to L10,000; his allowances and power of making

requisitions, such as of salt, wood, and hay when travelling, were

strictly defined by law; any pronounced extortion, oppression, or

dishonesty laid him open to impeachment; and such a charge was

tolerably certain to be brought. Among so many governors it was

inevitable that a number should have been impeached. We know of

twenty-seven instances, resulting in twenty condemnations and only

seven acquittals. The emperors at least looked sharply to their own

provinces; nor would they readily tolerate any gross irregularity in

those other provinces which were nominally controlled by the Senate.

On leaving his province every governor must make out duplicate copies

of his accounts, one to be left in the province, one to be forwarded

to Rome.

In the _Acts of the Apostles_ we have mention of two governors of

senatorial provinces--in other words, two "proconsuls"--Gallio in

Achaia (or Greece), and Sergius Paulus in Cyprus. It is instructive to

compare the lenient and common sense attitude of these trained Roman

aristocrats with that of the turbulent local mobs who dealt with St.

Paul in Asia Minor, Judaea, or Greece. Of the minor governors of

smaller provinces--styled "agents" or "factors" of Caesar--we meet

with Pontius Pilate, Felix, and Festus.

It remains only to remark that, while the Senate's treasury, which

received the revenues from the senatorial provinces, paid the expenses

of their management and also of the administration of Italy, the

emperor's treasury, which received the revenues from the other

provinces, provided for their administration, for the pay of the army,

for the corn and water of Rome, for public buildings, for the great

military roads, and for the imperial post. Nevertheless the emperor

could handle all this latter money exactly as he chose, and it is upon

this chest that Nero was drawing for all his lavish prodigalities and

his undeserved and wasteful bounties. Yet even Nero was scarcely so

bad as Caligula, who managed to spend L22,000,000 in less than one

year.

CHAPTER VII

ROME: THE IMPERIAL CITY

In the year 64 the capital of the Roman Empire was, it is true, a

large and splendid city and an "epitome of the world," but it had not

yet reached either its zenith of splendour or its maximum, of size.

Many of the largest and most sumptuous structures of which we possess

the records, and in most cases the ruins, were not yet built or even

contemplated. There was no Colosseum; there were no Baths of Trajan,

Caracalla, or Diocletian. The Column of Trajan, still soaring in the

Foro Traiano, and of Marcus Aurelius, now so conspicuous in the Piazza

Colonna, are of a later date. So also are the three great triumphal

arches which are still standing--those of Titus, Severus, and

Constantine. The Mausoleum of Hadrian, now stripped of its outward

magnificence of marble and sculpture, and known as the Castle of Sant'

Angelo, was not built for two generations. On the Palatine Hill the

palaces of the Caesars were wide and lofty, but not more than half so

spacious and imposing as they became by the end of the following

century.

Down in the Forum there stood no Basilica of Constantine; the place of

several later temples and shrines was occupied by edifices of less

dignity; many columns and statues, and much ornament of gilt or

marble, were still to come. Beside and beyond the two embellished

public places which had been added to the public comfort and

convenience by Julius Caesar and Augustus, and which were known

respectively as the Julian and the Augustan Forum, lay only the houses

of citizens or streets of shops. Up from the Forum towards the later

Arch of Titus and the Colosseum, the "Upper Sacred Way" ran as but a

narrow road between buildings for the most part of ordinary character,

principally shops catering for luxury. It was later by two centuries

and a half that this street was converted into a broad avenue forming

a worthy approach to the "hub of the universe."

In the ruins which lie on the Palatine Hill, or along the valley of

the Forum below, or up the Sacred Slope towards the Colosseum, or

across where the streets wind round from the "Roman" Forum through the

Forum of Trajan to the Corso, the modern visitor to the Eternal City

does not behold simply the remnants of the temples, halls, squares,

and arches which actually existed in the days of Nero. We must not say

of these places that St. Paul trod the very paving-stones or gazed on

the very walls which we now find in their worn and broken state. In a

few cases it may be so; in most it is certainly otherwise. Either the

building was not there, or what we now behold is part of a

reconstruction or an enlargement. Fire, flood, earthquake and the wear

and tear of time called for many a rebuilding or restoration. In the

very year upon which we have fixed, there swept over all this part of

the city perhaps the most disastrous fire that it ever experienced.

Another only a little less destructive occurred in A.D. 283, and when

we say that the remains of the glory of ancient Rome are still visible

in the excavated Forum, we must recognise that the glory which they

represent is the glory of the place as restored after that year.

This does not mean that the general plan and appearance were markedly

different under Nero, nor that there was any lack of magnificence; it

is only meant by way of caution against a frequent misconception.

[Illustration]

If there was no Arch of Severus in the Forum, there was an Arch of

Augustus, near the Temple of Castor, surmounted by his statue in the

four-horsed chariot of the conqueror, and there was an Arch of

Tiberius near the temple of Saturn. If to the north there was as yet

no bridge or "castle" of Sant' Angelo to celebrate the dead Hadrian,

there was, on the near side of the Tiber, not far from the modern

Piazza del Popolo, a splendid Mausoleum of the deified Augustus and

his family. In the chief Forum the Temples of Vesta, of Julius Caesar,

of Castor, Saturn, and Concord existed under Nero in the same spots

and in much the same style as they did through all the remainder of

Roman history. Above them towered the Capitoline Hill, with its

resplendent Temple of Jupiter on the one summit and its great shrine

of Juno on the other. Beyond, in the "Field of Mars"--the site of the

densest part of modern Rome--was an almost continuous cluster of

public buildings and resorts, of theatres, temples--including the

first form of that incomparable edifice, the Pantheon, the only

building of ancient Rome which still remains practically whole--of

baths, porticoes, and enclosed promenades.

[Illustration: FIG. 16.--SOME REMAINS OF THE CLAUDIAN AQUEDUCT.]

Away in the opposite direction stretched the Appian Way, and in the

year 64 the beautiful tomb of Caecilia Metella, which is so familiar

in picture, stood as perhaps the noblest among the multitude of

patrician tombs. The Apostle Paul certainly passed close by it on his

way from Puteoli. The aqueduct, of which so many arches still meet the

eye as you cross the Campagna, was the work of Nero's predecessor,

Claudius, and it still bears his name--the Aqua Claudia. Where now you

go out of the gate to St. Paul's Outside-the-Walls there stood--more

free and visible than now--that pyramid of Cestius, close to whose

shadow lie the graves of the English Shelley and Keats. There was no

gate at this spot in the days of Nero, for the great wall, of which so

many portions--more or less restored--are still conspicuous, had no

existence till a much later date, when the empire was already

tottering to its fall, and when Aurelian was driven to recognise that

the heart of the empire, after remaining secure for centuries, must at

last look to be assailed. There was, it is true, an inner wall of

ancient date (to be seen upon the plan) which had enclosed the "Seven

Hills" before Rome was mistress of more than her own small

environment. But the city had long ago overflowed this boundary, and

the newer quarters lay as open to the country as do our own modern

cities.

How far the suburbs stretched, or precisely how far Rome proper

extended, in the days of Nero, is no easy matter to decide. We shall

in all probability be near the mark if we accept the line of the later

wall of Aurelian as practically the limit of what might be included in

the "Metropolitan Area." The total circumference of the whole city

would be about twelve English miles, a circuit which fell somewhat

short of that of Alexandria and probably of Antioch, although in

actual importance these cities took but the second and third rank

respectively.

Some parts within this line were thickly inhabited, in some the houses

must have been but sparse. Particularly along the upper slopes of the

hills--of the Pincian, Quirinal, Esquiline, Caelian, and

Aventine--were the spacious houses and gardens of the wealthy. The

Palatine was almost, though not completely, monopolised by the

emperors' palaces and sundry temples. The Campus Martius was mostly a

region of public buildings and grounds for promenade and exercise,

although some of the finest shops stood very close to where they stand

to-day, in that Flaminian Way which is now called the Corso of

Humbert. On one side below the Palatine Hill, space was taken up by

the vast Circus or racing-ground; on the other lay the public places

known as the Fora. It was left for the poorer inhabitants to crowd

themselves into the valleys of the town, either between the Forum and

the spurs of the several hills which trend towards the centre--up

under Quirinal, Viminal, Esquiline, or Caelian--to the left behind the

buildings as you now go from the bottom of the Forum to the Colosseum;

or between the Forum and the Tiber in the low-lying ground called the

Velabrum and there-abouts; or else across the river in that

"Transtiberine" region which still bears the name of Trastevere.

If, therefore, it is asked what may have been the Population of

Neronian Rome, it need cause no surprise if the number should appear

comparatively small to one who is accustomed to our huge modern towns.

Rome had never been a seat of manufactures. Its wealth and luxury came

almost wholly from its empire, and it was emphatically a city for the

rich and ruling classes. In Nero's day it was still growing, and even

in its fullest times it is doubtful if the population ever exceeded or

even reached a million and a quarter. Perhaps for the year 64 we may

most safely put it down at about 750,000.

* * * * *

Now suppose yourself to be standing at F in the recognised centre of

Roman life, the "Roman Forum." Here, before we begin our rapid

exploration of the city, it is well to clear our minds of one false

notion which too commonly prevails. Think of any modern town you

please, and remember that, whatever may be the accumulation of

architectural magnificence around any given spot, the people of that

town treat it all with familiarity and without any waste of sentiment.

They will set up their shops or stalls wherever they are allowed; they

will carry on their traffic and their amusements; they will saunter

and sit on steps and misbehave without feeling oppressed by any

appreciable awe of their surroundings. So was it, and even more so, in

ancient Rome. The fact that there were shrines or public buildings on

all sides did not prevent the Romans from loitering and loafing in the

Forum, from sitting on the steps of a temple or a basilica, or leaning

against its columns or statues, or playing at a sort of draughts or of

backgammon on its marble platforms--the lines to put the "men" upon

are here and there still visible upon the pavements--or even

scratching a name or a drawing on a pillar. In certain parts the Forum

was alive with the bustle of financial business and, doubtless under

certain limitations, with the traffic of the pedlar. Curiosities were

exhibited, the crier shouted his advertisements, and, in short, the

place was almost as freely used for the vulgar purposes of ordinary

life as for the dignified gatherings and ceremonies which to our minds

appear so much more appropriate to it. Though we are not yet dealing

with the social life of Rome, whether indoor or outdoor, it seems

advisable to make this observation before proceeding.

[Illustration: FIG. 17.--THE ROSTRA: BACK VIEW. (Probable

restoration for A.D. 64.)]

Let us now stand at F and look about us toward the Capitol, noting

only the chief features of the scene. The reader would do well to

consider the plan along with the frontispiece to this book. We are

upon an open space paved with marble slabs, round which stand sundry

honorary statues and various minor monuments into which we need not

now enquire. Facing us, toward the far end, is a platform about 80

feet long and 11 feet in height, with marble facing. A trellis-work

rail, or pierced screen, runs along it at either side, and also

extends along the front for one-third of the distance from either end.

The one-third in the middle of the front is open. This platform is

approached by a flight of steps at the back, while in the sheer face

are set as ornaments rows of bronze "beaks" or "rams" cut from ships

captured in war. From these "beaks" the platform obtains its name--the

Rostra. It is the platform for harangues delivered to the Roman

people--the Roman citizens who are politely assumed to be the body

politic--and the open space on the front is the position for the

orator. It is from this stand that important announcements are made to

the people at large. An emperor or his nominee may speak from it; a

magistrate may deliver some pronouncement; a political exhortation may

be uttered; in the case of a public funeral, or even of the private

obsequies in some eminent family, an oration over the deceased may be

spoken with that finished and animated elocution which the Romans so

zealously cultivated, and which the Italians still affect with no

little success. It is not indeed the same platform as was used by

Cicero and the orators of the republic: this stood elsewhere, and

doubtless the substance of public speaking had declined deplorably

since that day. Nevertheless many a torrent of rich and sonorous Latin

must have streamed over the Forum from that noble standing-place, and

it must still have been worth while for a Roman to develop both his

speaking voice and his oratorical art. Still further back, to the

right behind the Rostra, there stands the Temple of Concord, where the

Senate in older times gathered on more than one occasion to listen to

Cicero, and where the emperors have formed practically a gallery of

works of art; to the left is the Temple of Saturn, long used as the

Roman Treasury, of which eight pillars still remain as perhaps the

most conspicuous feature among the existing ruins. Another object in

the background to the left, at the rear of the Rostra, will be a stone

pillar coated with gilded bronze, upon which the first emperor,

Augustus, inscribed the names of the great roads leading out from Rome

into the length and breadth of the empire, with a list of the chief

towns to which those roads would take you, and their distances. The

name of this pillar is the "Golden Milestone." Behind these objects,

running along the high face of the Capitoline Hill, are visible the

arcades of the Record Office, of which the greater portion still

exists, though stripped of its architectural graces and built over and

about in more modern times, in the state represented in FIG. 18. Still

higher on the summit to the left, with its gilded tiles glistening in

the sun--at least they were gilded within the next few years--rises

the most sacred structure of all, the building most closely identified

in the Roman mind with the eternity of the empire. This is the

splendid temple of Jove, Supreme and Most Benign. Of this edifice

nothing considerable except its platform now remains, its site being

occupied by an object of which the existence would have been

inconceivable to the ancient Roman--to wit, the German Embassy. On the

other summit, a fortified citadel to your right stands the temple of

the consort of Jupiter. In this shrine she was known as Juno Moneta,

and since, attached to her temple in this citadel, was the office of

the Roman coinage, her name Moneta has become familiar to modern

mouths in the form of "the Mint." If you seek the place of this temple

now, you must look for it under the Church of Santa Maria in Ara

Coeli.

[Illustration: FIG. 18.--RUINS OF FORUM.]

[Illustration: Photo, Anderson. (Record Office in background with

modern building above.)]

Next, instead of looking up at the hill, glance to your left, and you

will see running along that side of the Forum, beside the Sacred Way,

a spacious public building known as the Basilica of Julius, that is to

say, of Julius Caesar. It is an edifice of a type familiar in cities

of the Roman world. You mount the steps from the Sacred Way and find

yourself under an outer two-storied arcade suitable for lounging or

promenading while discussing business or gossip with your friends.

Passing from this inwards you are in a building which consists of a

covered colonnade, or nave, about 270 feet in length, with a row of

pillars on either hand. On each side is a gallery, or upper floor,

from which spectators may look down upon the interior, or, from the

outer side, upon the open Forum. At the far end is a recess with a

raised tribunal, shut off, if necessary, by railings. In other

basilicas there may be an apse at this point, similarly enclosed. This

serves as a court of justice, round which the curious may stand, or

upon which listening spectators may gaze from the ends of the

galleries above. Meanwhile up and down the open space of the nave all

kinds of verbal business may be transacted by appointment, exactly as

such business used to be carried on in old St. Paul's Cathedral in

London or in churches elsewhere. In what may be called the inner

side-aisle are situated offices of various kinds, including those of

sundry public corporations, boards, or commissions. The whole of this

great hall is paved with coloured marbles; its pillars are coated with

marble; its ceiling is adorned with painting and gilt; it is

embellished with statues; and it is lighted from above by a

clerestory. Though the question has been debated, it is almost certain

that it was mainly from buildings like this, or from rooms similarly

constructed in palatial houses, that the early Church developed its

basilicas--with their nave, aisles, and clerestory, and with their

railed apse at the end, where was placed the chair of the bishop on

its dais. Across the Forum on the opposite side, to your right, lies

another structure of the same kind, in artistic respects more

excellent. In this, the Basilica Aemilia, the chief business was that

of the bankers and money-changers, although it served various other

purposes according to convenience.

If you could see round the farther end of this basilica to the right,

you would perceive the beginning of one of the busiest streets in

Rome--the Argiletum--chiefly known to fame as a favourite quarter of

the booksellers, who fasten on their door-posts, or on the pillars

which support a balcony or upper floor, the lists of the newest or

most popular publications to be bought within. And where that street

enters the Forum, though standing back a little from your line of

vision--perhaps you can catch sight of the top of it over the corner

of the Basilica--is the temple-like Senate-House with its offices.

Here is the meeting-place of the six hundred who nominally govern

jointly with the emperor. If you visit Rome to-day you will find the

greater part of the actual chamber, though miserably despoiled,

bearing the name of the church of S. Adriano.

[Illustration: FIG. 19.--N.E. OF FORUM, A.D. 64. (Complementary to

frontispiece.)

From left: in background, Record Office, with Temple of Concord and

Rostra below; on summit, Temple of Juno and Citadel; below, Prison,

with shrine of Janus in front. To right: Basilica Aemilia, with gable

of Senate-House beyond. (Largely after Tognetti.)]

The little building, half arch, half shrine, which you observe

standing free where the roads converge upon the Forum, is the famous

sanctuary of Janus, of which the doors are never shut unless there is

complete peace throughout the Roman world. So long as Rome is anywhere

engaged in a great or little war, the open doors of Janus tell the

fact to a people which might otherwise be unconscious of so slight or

remote a circumstance.

* * * * *

[Illustration: FIG. 20.--TEMPLE OF FORTUNA AUGUSTA. (Pompeii.)]

We need not describe in detail the temple of Castor, or rather of the

"Twin Brethren," which stands immediately to your left, or that of the

deified Julius Caesar, which is just behind you, on the spot where the

body of the great dictator was burned. It is perhaps more interesting

to note the ordinary--though not by any means the only--form of the

Roman temple in general. Those who have seen the so-called Maison

Carree at Nimes will possess a fair notion of the commonest or most

typical shape and arrangement. For the most part we have a rather

lofty platform, mounted from one end by steps, which are flanked by

walls or balustrades, often bearing at their extremities equestrian

statues or other appropriate figures. Upon the platform stands the

temple proper, consisting of a chamber containing the statue of the

god. Where more than one deity are combined in the same temple--as in

that of Jupiter on the Capitoline Hill, where the supreme deity has

Juno and Minerva to left and right of him--there may either be as many

separate chambers or as many chapel-like bays as there are deities.

The altar for sacrifice stands outside opposite the entrance, being

placed either upon the top of the main platform or more commonly on a

minor platform of its own in the middle of the steps. In most cases

the chamber stands back behind a row, in some instances two rows, of

columns, which support the characteristic entablature seen in the

illustrations. In the case of the more grandiose temples a series of

columns may run all round the building, carrying an extension of the

roof, under which is thus formed a covered colonnade. More commonly

the sides and back of the chamber have only what are known as

"engaged" columns, as it were half-embedded in the wall. The roof is

gabled and tiled, with ornaments along the eaves. The front has an

embellished entablature, with its triangle of masonry called the

"pediment," consisting of a cornice overhanging a sunken surface

decorated with a sculptured group. Over each angle, right, left, and

summit, is a base of stone supporting some conspicuous ornament, such

as a statue, an eagle, or a figure in a chariot. In the middle of the

front of the building, behind the columns of the portico, are double

doors, commonly made of decorated bronze, with an open grating of the

same metal above them. The whole is outwardly of marble, either all

white or with colour in the pillars, but the core of at least the

platform is commonly made of the immensely strong Roman concrete, or

else of blocks of the less beautiful and costly kinds of stone.

In point of architectural style the Romans of this date--who in

artistic matters were but imitators of the Greeks and far less certain

in taste than their masters--affected the Corinthian, as being the

most florid. Even this they could not leave in its native purity, but

for the most part converted it into Graeco-Roman or composite

varieties. A prime fault of the Roman taste was then, as it has always

been, a love of gorgeousness, of excessive and obtrusive ornament. In

almost any Roman church of to-day we find the walls and pillars stuck

about with figures, slabs, and so-called decorations to such an extent

that the finer lines and proportions are often ruined, The ancient

Roman likewise was commonly under the impression that the more

decoration you added, the more magnificent was the building. There

were doubtless many buildings in simpler and purer taste, probably

executed by Greek artists under the authority of some Roman who

happened to possess a finer judgment or less self-assertiveness.

Nevertheless the fault of over-elaboration is distinctly Roman.

[Illustration: FIG. 21.--SO-CALLED TEMPLE OF THE SIBYL AT TIVOLI.]

We must not omit to say that, besides temples of this typical

rectangular form, there were others of a round shape, encircled by

columns, like that graceful structure at Tivoli commonly, though

mistakenly, known as the temple of the Sibyl, and that small building

which still exists in an impoverished condition near the Tiber, and

which used to bear the erroneous title of the temple of Vesta. Others

again were simply round and domed, like the true temple of Vesta in

the Forum, or the superb and impressive Pantheon in the Campus

Martius. So far as the bare round was broken in these cases, it was

either by a pillared portico, as with the Pantheon, or by engaged

columns and ornament, as with the true temple of Vesta.

The mention of the temple of Vesta reminds us that it is time to face

about, and, passing behind the temple of Julius, to look in the

opposite direction, from V. Before us lies this circular shrine, a

form gradually developed from the primitive round hut which once

served as house to the prehistoric ancestors of the Roman stock. As it

was the duty of the maiden daughters of that ancient tribe to keep

alight the fire upon the domestic hearth, so through all the history

of Rome it was the duty of certain chosen virgins to keep perpetually

burning the hearth-fire of the city. The roof of the temple is open in

the middle, and you may perhaps see the smoke issuing from it. But if

you are a male, you may not enter. No man, except the chief Pontifex,

may set foot inside the shrine of the virgin goddess, who is attended

by virgin priestesses. Close behind the temple stands the house of

these Vestals. They are in a large measure the ancient prototype of

the modern nun, and their house is the prototype of the convent. Six

nobly-born young women, sworn to chastity, and dressed in a ritual

garb, live in an edifice of much magnificence under the rule of one

who is the chief Vestal, a sort of Mother Superior. Many pedestals of

the statues of such chief priestesses still remain, and we can clearly

trace the arrangement of their abode, with its open court--once

containing a garden and cool cisterns of pure water--its separate room

for each Vestal, its baths, and its resources of considerable comfort

and even luxury.

[Illustration: FIG. 22.--VESTAL VIRGIN]

If, as you face this way, you look up to your right, you will perceive

the Palatine Hill rising steeply above you, with its summit crowned by

the lofty palaces and gardens constructed by the Caesars. At the side

and corner which look down upon the Forum stands the part built by

Caligula, the epileptic who thought himself no less than a god, and

who in consequence not only turned the temple of Castor into a lower

vestibule to his own house, but also built a bridge across the valley

over the temple of Augustus and the Basilica of Julius to the

Capitoline Hill, so that he might visit and converse with Jupiter, his

only compeer. From the top of the Basilica he occasionally threw money

into the Forum to be scrambled for by people who crushed each other to

death in the process. It would require too much space if we climbed

the sloping road which leads on to the Palatine and examined the

various structures upon that hill. As we now see it in its ruins it is

perhaps the most mysteriously impressive place in the world. But many

alterations and enlargements of the palaces were made after the date

of Nero, and we cannot now be sure of the precise aspect of the

hill-top in his day. Suffice it that, overlooking the Forum,

overlooking the Velabrum Valley which leads from the Forum to the

Tiber, and overlooking the middle of the valley where the vast Circus

or race-ground separated the imperial hill from the Aventine, there

were portions of the huge imperial abodes, rising in several stories

gleaming with marble, and enjoying the purest air and the widest views

obtainable within the city. Nero himself, it is true, was not content

with such mere human housing. After the great fire of this year 64, he

proceeded to make for himself what he called "a home fit for a man,"

and so built--though he never finished--that famous or infamous

"Golden House," which ran from the Palatine all across the upper

Sacred Way and the hollow now occupied by the Colosseum far on to the

opposite hills--a house of countless chambers, with three miles of

colonnade, enclosed gardens large enough to be called a park, and a

statue of himself 120 feet in height. The epigram went that the people

of Rome must migrate, inasmuch as what had once been a city was now

but a private house. This, however, had not yet occurred, and we have

rather to think of palaces and gardens rich indeed, but by no means

occupying the whole of the Palatine Hill alone. There were, of course,

numerous buildings more or less connected with the imperial

establishment, among them being quarters for the officers and soldiers

of the guard. There were also a number of temples, one of which, the

magnificent shrine of Apollo, the god of light and learning, stood in

a court marvellously enriched with sculptured masterpieces, while

connected with it were libraries filled with Greek and Latin books and

adorned with the busts and medallion-portraits or statues of great

authors.

If we proceeded now to walk up the Sacred Way, along the narrow street

edged by jewellers' and other shops, we should meet as yet with no

Arch of Titus, nor in descending beyond should we see any Colosseum,

but only a block of ordinary dwellings, to be swept away later in this

year by the fire which made room here for the ornamental waters of

Nero's Golden House. Turning to the right along the valley between the

Palatine and Caelian Hills, we should not have to pass under any Arch

of Constantine; but, after glancing up to the left at the great

unfinished temple of Claudius and going under the Claudian aqueduct

which carries water to the Palatine, we should proceed between private

houses and gardens till we reached a famous gate in the ancient wall

and found ourselves on that noted Appian Way, which would take us to

Capua and thence over the Apennines to Brindisi and the East. Just

outside the gate we should find the livery-stables, with their

vehicles and horses or mules waiting to be hired for the stage which

would carry us as far as the slope on the southern edge of the Alban

Hills.

But we will not proceed in this direction. From our stand at V in

front of the temple of Vesta we will turn back, walk over the Forum to

the right of the Rostra, between the sanctuary of Janus and the front

of the Senate-House. Thence we will cross an enclosed forum, or public

place, erected by Julius Caesar, with its temple of "Venus the Mother"

in the middle, and so enter the Forum of Augustus. This is worth a

pause. As you pass to-day up the narrow Via Bonella and perceive near

the Pantani Arch a few imposing columns and a patch of rather

depressing bare wall, it requires much effort to realise that here was

once a noble space enclosed by marble-covered walls 100 feet in

height, and that those walls contained in a series of niches a gallery

of statues of all the military heroes and patriots of Roman history

from Aeneas downwards. Meanwhile the few columns at your side are the

sole survivors of the number which surrounded the splendid temple of

Mars the Avenger, the shrine which was identified in imperial times

with the military power of Rome, and which received the standards

captured from the enemy, just as captured flags are to be seen in many

a modern church.

Leaving this Forum, we will not bear to the right to find ourselves

amid the dense population of the Subura and its neighbourhood, but we

will turn to the left and pass between the Capitoline and Quirinal

Hills, which then met more steeply and closely than they did fifty

years later, when Trajan had cut away the rising ground and levelled

an open space which must have been an incalculable advantage to the

convenience of the city. It is perhaps well to observe here that the

piling up of fallen ruins and the deliberate levellings and gradings,

both in ancient and modern times, have greatly altered the appearance

of the often-mentioned hills of Rome, especially of the Quirinal,

Viminal, and Esquiline.

[Illustration: FIG. 23.--TEMPLE OP MARS THE AVENGER IN FORUM OF

AUGUSTUS. (After Ripostelli.)]

Emerging from this too narrow passage-way and proceeding a short

distance, we enter that straight Flaminian Road which has been

replaced by the modern Corso beginning at the Piazza Venezia. For the

first part of its course it was also known as "Broadway." We are now

in that more open part of Rome which lies outside the ancient wall,

and which is commonly spoken of loosely as the Campus Martius. Here

again, it is impossible to inspect all the various sights visible in

the year 64. A few examples must suffice. As you walk along this

straight thorough-fare--the commencement of the road which would

eventually carry you to the North of Italy--you will find but few

buildings of any note on your right. Lying to your left is a long and

wide cloistered space which contains not only certain public offices

and a pillared promenade, but also the richest shops in Rome, where

are sold gold and silver work, objects of art, tapestries, and fine

fabrics from Alexandria, Syria, and farther East. The place is, in

fact, mainly a huge bazaar. Up the Flaminian Way beyond this enclosure

we go under a triumphal arch erected by the late Emperor Claudius to

record his conquest of Britain, where he subdued "eleven kings"

without Roman loss. Keeping straight on we pass, this time on our

right, another large enclosure surrounded by arcades, where is now the

east side of the Piazza Colonna. In and about this locality are

carried on not only promenades and saunterings but also various

athletic exercises, including feats of horsemanship. Farther on still,

and you will see to your left the Mausoleum of Augustus, rising some

220 feet into the air. Its base, coated with sculptured marble,

contains one grand sepulchral chamber for Augustus himself, and

fourteen smaller chambers for members of his family. Above this base

towers a conical mound of earth planted with evergreen trees, and on

the summit is a colossal statue of the first emperor. Close by is a

paved space, where the bodies of the Caesars are cremated before their

ashes are placed in the Mausoleum. From this spot a ready faith saw

their immortal part carried up to heaven by the eagle, messenger of

Jove.

Turning back and passing across the Campus we arrive at the public

baths erected by Nero, and then at the Pantheon. This building, though

shorn of many of its decorative splendours both within and without,

still stands structurally intact, at least as it was restored and

enlarged two generations later than our date. It is scarcely possible

to say how far its shape was altered at its restoration under Hadrian,

but we may provisionally treat the edifice as already belonging to our

period. It is still, after all these centuries, an entirely noble

pile, and forms a fit receptacle for the tomb, not only of Victor

Emanuel, but of Raphael. Its form is that of a rotunda, with walls of

concrete 20 feet in thickness and with a dome of concrete cast in a

solid mass. The middle of the dome is open to the sky, and by that

means the building is lighted in a manner most perfectly suited to it.

Could we behold it fully restored and at its best, we should see above

its portico, which is supported by huge marble pillars each made of a

single stone, large bronze reliefs of gods and giants. To one side of

the doors would be a colossal statue of Augustus; on the other a

colossal statue of the builder Agrippa, the son-in-law of that

emperor. Inside there is a series of niches for colossal effigies of

Mars, Venus, and other deities connected with the Julian family. The

marble pillars dividing the niches have capitals of fine bronze, and

the coffered ceiling of the dome, now bare and colourless, shines with

gilt on blue, like the sky lit up with stars. The doors, which have

mysteriously remained entire, are also of noble bronze; the roof

consists of tiles of bronze thinly plated with gold. The gold has

naturally vanished, after passing into Saracen hands; of the bronze

nearly half a million pounds weight has been stripped from the

building, some to make cannon for the defence of the Castle of St.

Angelo, some to form the twisted columns which now support the giant

baldacchino under St. Peter's dome.

At a short distance behind this magnificent temple Agrippa--who was in

charge of the aqueducts and water-supply--had also built the first

great public baths. It would probably be incorrect to found any

detailed description of them upon what we know of the stupendous

structures of Caracalla and Diocletian, which were perhaps the most

amazing exhibitions of public luxury ever seen in the world. Of these

we know how huge and splendid were the halls, with their coloured

marbles, their mosaic floors, their colossal masterpieces of statuary,

their elaborate arrangements of baths--cold, tepid, hot and

dry-sweating--their conversation-rooms and reading-rooms. But we

cannot pretend to say how far the Agrippan and Neronian baths of the

year 64 corresponded in magnificence to these. We shall be safer in

simply assuming that, since the baths of Pompeii were in full swing in

the year in question, Home must have possessed establishments of a

similar kind but on a larger and more sumptuous scale.

[Illustration: FIG. 24.--EXTERIOR OP THEATRE OF MARCELLUS. (Present

state.)]

Leaving without further mention the various temples of Minerva, Isis,

Serapis, and other deities which might be found about the Campus

Martius, we note an undistinguished stone amphitheatre, the only

resort of the kind as yet possessed by the metropolis. In this were

exhibited the sanguinary combats of gladiators with each other, and

the fights with wild beasts performed by trained professionals or by

criminals selling their lives as dearly as possible. Of these "sports"

we have to treat in a later chapter. Coming nearer to the Tiber, while

returning towards the city proper, we pass in succession the three

great theatres, lofty semicircular constructions of stone and concrete

faced with marble, one computed to hold 40,000 spectators, but

probably accommodating not more than 25,000, and the others some

20,000 and 12,000 respectively. In these matters we must allow both

for Roman exaggeration and Roman close-packing. The theatres rise in

three stories, of which the outward sides consist of open arcades

adorned with pillars in varied styles, while round their bases are

shops for the sale of sweetmeats, beverages, perfumes, and other

articles which the theatre-goer or the loitering public may require.

What a theatrical Performance was like is a matter belonging to the

question of spectacles and amusements. At the back of the largest

theatre--that of Pompey--lies a large square surrounded by colonnades

of a hundred pillars, where sycamores form avenues and fountains play,

while statues of finished workmanship stand where they produce the

best effect. Particularly grateful to the Roman lounger were the seats

in the large semi-circular bays, so placed as to offer full protection

from too hot a sun or too cold a wind.

[Illustration: FIG. 25.--THEATRE OF MARCELLUS. (Restored.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 27.--CIRCUS MAXIMUS (restored); Imperial Palaces

on Palatine to left.]

By the time that we have passed the last theatre of the three we have

arrived at the river end of the low valley leading into the Forum

between the Capitoline Hill and the Palatine, a place which had once

been a cattle-market but had now become an open place surrounded by

dwellings of the humbler sort. It still, however, bore the name of

"Cattle-Market." If from this point we followed the river bank, we

should come to the wharves, to which the smaller ships bring up the

Tiber the freights of grain transhipped from the larger vessels from

Alexandria or Carthage, or of marble from the quarries of Numidia,

Greece, and Phrygia, or of granite and porphyry from Upper Egypt. All

along this bank are the offices and storehouses of such cargoes, and

here too is performed much of the shaping of those blocks which Rome

is using in such astonishing profusion. Along the river by the stone

embankment the ships are moored, with their cables passed through huge

stone corbels or sculptured lions' mouths. No busier part of Rome

could be found than this, but we have no time to proceed further in

this direction.

In front of us rises the Aventine Hill, another quarter of the

wealthy, but otherwise chiefly distinguished by its temples of Juno

the Queen and of Diana. Turning our eyes from the Aventine to the left

we see lying in the valley between Aventine and Palatine--where now

are the Jewish Cemetery and the grimy Gasworks--the vast Circus

Maximus or Hippodrome. This structure, devoted chiefly to

chariot-racing, is some 700 yards in length and 135 in width, and will

at a pinch hold nearly a quarter of a million spectators. In all

probability it would seat 150,000. It consists, as the illustration

will show, of long tiers of seats sweeping down the sides and round

the curved end of an oblong space. As with the theatres, its outside

view presents three tiers of marble arches, and through the lowest

tier are numerous staircases leading to the various sections of the

seats within. Those seats themselves are laid upon large vaults of

concrete; the lower rows are of marble, the upper ones are as yet of

wood. How the chariot-races were run, and what is meant by the "sports

of the circus," will naturally require a separate narration.

Coming back from the entrance of this mammoth place of amusement and

turning up the Velabrum Valley, we pass by a temple of Augustus, to

which is attached a public library, and issue by the temple of Castor

into the Forum to our first standing-point at F.

CHAPTER VIII

STREETS, WATER-SUPPLY, AND BUILDING MATERIAL

After this rapid walk through the more interesting parts of the

capital, we may consider one or two connected topics of natural

interest.

Amid all this splendour and spaciousness of public buildings, what is

the aspect of the ordinary streets? In this respect Rome was by no

means fortunate. As in Old London, Old Paris, or Old New York, the

streets had for the most part grown up as chance circumstances would

have it. There were very few thoroughfares laid out straight from the

first like the Flaminian or "Broad" Road. Alexandria and Antioch were

the creations of monarchs who began with a clear field and a

consistent scheme. Their straight, broad streets might well be the

envy of the capital. The Romans, then as now, possessed the

engineering genius, but they could not well undo the work of a

struggling past, which had necessitated the crowding of population,

within the defences of a wall. They knew how to supply the city

abundantly with water, and how to drain it with sewers of great

capacity and strength. The chief of such sewers--the Cloaca

Maxima--which passed underneath the Forum to the Tiber and was laid

down more than twenty-five centuries ago, is still in working order.

But no republican or imperial government ever took it in hand to

Hansmannise the city, even after one of those devastating

conflagrations which might seem to have cleared the way. It is true

that all traffic of vehicles, except for special processions, for

Vestal Virgins, and a few other cases--was forbidden for ten hours in

the day. All through the morning and afternoon there were no wheels in

the Roman streets, unless some public building imperatively demanded

its load of stones or timber, or unless the few privileged persons

were proceeding in their carriages to some festival. Nevertheless the

rich men and women in their litters or sedan-chairs, attended by their

servants or their clients; the porters carrying their heavy loads; the

itinerant hucksters; and the ordinary man on errand or other business

bent, made up crowds which were often difficult to pass through.

Another consequence of the old compression within narrow walls was

that, as population increased, the houses grew more lofty. How high

the Romans built, or were allowed to build, in republican times we

cannot tell. The tendency was certainly to build higher and higher,

and sky-scrapers would perhaps have become the rule if the ancient

Roman had understood the use of materials both sufficiently light and

sufficiently strong, or if he had been forced to establish his work on

secure foundations. In point of fact there had been, and there

continued to be, too much of jerry-building. Houses sometimes

collapsed, and many were unsubstantially shored up. A flood or an

earthquake was apt to find them out, and there was frequent peril in

the streets. The majority of the abodes of people of humble means were

not like those in smaller towns, such as Pompeii, still less like

those in the country. They were "tenement houses," large blocks let

out in rooms and flats, and it was natural that landlords should make

haste to run them up and to increase the number of their stories. When

Augustus became emperor he enacted what may be called a Metropolitan

Building Act, which insisted on firmer foundations and limited the

height to 70 feet. That act was apparently still in force in the age

of Nero, and we may take it that along the more frequented streets the

houses commonly ran to a height of four or five stories. They looked

the taller because of the narrowness of the street itself. While it is

perhaps, though not necessarily, an exaggeration for the

epigrammatist--who lived "up three pair of stairs, and high ones"--to

say that he could touch his opposite neighbour with his hand, it is at

least an indication of the truth. Some of the narrower lanes between

blocks cannot have been more than a few feet across.

Nor does it appear that the occupants' of rooms opening on the streets

were very particular as to what they threw out in the way of rubbish

or dirty water. It is true that there were aediles, or officers to

look after the order of the streets and public places, but their

efforts seem to have been mainly directed to preventing conspicuous

obstruction. Practices which we should regard as heinous were treated

lightly or disregarded. To make matters worse, the shopkeepers, who

occupied the lower fronts of most of such houses, took the greatest

liberties in encroaching upon the roadway when exhibiting their wares,

and it was not till twenty years later than our date that the Emperor

Domitian ordered them to keep within their own thresholds.

Apart from the question of the freedom of traffic, it can be readily

imagined that, with all the wooden counters, doors, and shutters down

below, and with the disproportionate quantity of woodwork in the

beams, floors, and even walls above, fires were of the commonest

occurrence, and, with streets so high and narrow, the conflagration of

a whole quarter of the town was speedy and complete. Augustus had

divided the metropolitan area into fourteen regions, and had

distributed over these a force of 7000 watchmen to keep the peace and

to deal with fires at night; but it was not to be expected, if a fire

occurred in a lofty block, that this body, assisted or hampered by the

neighbours, could do much with the buckets, siphons, and wet blankets

which formed the extinguishing apparatus of the time.

Another serious danger, or, when not danger, at least discomfort, came

from the trick which the Tiber has always had of flooding the lower

parts of the city. Somewhat later than our date the river restrained

by strong stone embankments, which one had to descend by steps in

order to reach the river at the ferries or other boats; but this must

have been but inadequately achieved in the early period of the empire,

and a severe flood might bring the houses in the Velabrum, for

example, tumbling about the ears of their inhabitants.

* * * * *

On the whole the streets of Neronian Rome were neither very

comfortable nor very safe to walk in. At night there was no lighting,

except when, at some great festival, illuminations might be made by

order of the emperor for a whole night or perhaps a series of nights.

In ordinary times torches and lanterns must be provided by yourself,

and even the 7000 watchmen scarcely gave you a full feeling of

security. The precise arrangements made for scavenging are unknown,

but presumably it was done by the public slaves under the supervision

of the aediles. It is, however, easy to discover from contemporary

complaints that the streets were often annoyingly wet and slimy.

One thing the ordinary Roman appears never to have minded, any more

than it is minded at the present day. This was noise. There are

studious men enough in ancient literature who complain that sleep or

study is impossible in Rome. They exclaim upon the bawling of the

hawkers, the canting songs of the beggars, the banging of hammers, the

sing-song of schoolboys learning to read in the open-air verandahs or

balconies which often served as schools, and the shouting in the

baths. All night long there was the rattle of carts and the creaking

of heavy waggons. But the average Roman cared, and still cares, very

little for quiet or sleep, and no emperor attempted to check the

annoyance. Perhaps he could devise no check. Perhaps he himself, being

on the Palatine, and his counsellors, being in their own comparatively

secluded houses on the hills, scarcely realised the full enormity of

the nocturnal roar of Rome. In any case the fact of the noise is

unquestionable. It was then very much as it is now if one tries to

sleep in rooms in the Corso or the Via Babuino. The saying that "God

made the country and man made the town" is met with in a Roman writer

of the age of Augustus, and the noise is one factor in the difference.

The ancient Romans, we have said, were masters of practical

engineering, and a chief glory of the city was its abundant supply of

water. Apart from the Tiber and the natural springs, there were in the

year 64 at least eight aqueducts bringing drinkable water into the

city. It was the emperor's concern to see to this matter, as he did to

the corn-supply, but in practice he appointed what he might call his

Minister of Water-supply, and gave him liberal means to provide a

large staff of engineers, surveyors, masons, pipelayers, inspectors,

and custodians. It is a common error to imagine that the Romans were

ignorant of the simple hydraulic law that water will find its own

level, and to suppose that their aqueducts were built in consequence

of that ignorance. In point of fact they knew the law as well as we

do. Their earlier aqueducts were conduits almost wholly underground;

their later were all on arches. When they wished to carry water to a

height within the city, up a watertower to a distributing cistern, or

to the top storey of a building, they did so by pipes, just as we

should; but when they brought water from forty miles away they

preferred to bring it in channels lined with impermeable cement and

carried upon arches, which wound across the country according to the

levels in order to avoid the excessive pressure of too steep a

gradient. The reasons for their choice are simple enough. Their chief

difficulty was in making pipes of iron of sufficient capacity. On the

other hand, it was easy to construct a cemented channel in masonry of

any size you desired. In the next place the water about Rome rapidly

lays a calcareous deposit, and it is much easier to clear this from a

readily accessible channel than from pipes buried in the ground. The

pipes which the Romans commonly made were of lead, bronze, or wood.

None of these could be made and cleared cheaply enough to serve for

the volume of water required for household use, the baths, and the

public fountains of Rome. Meanwhile slave labour was inexpensive, and

the cost of building an aqueduct of any length was of little account

to the Roman.

When the water reached the city it was conducted into settling and

distributing reservoirs and its flow regulated. Thence it was carried

by pipes, mostly of lead, wherever it was required. When Agrippa was

minister of water-supply he constructed in the city 700 public pools

or basins and 500 fountains, drawing their supply from 130 collecting

heads or reservoirs. And it is to the credit of Agrippa and of Rome

that all these pools, fountains, and reservoirs were made pleasant to

the eye with suitable adornment. There is mention of 400 marble

columns and 300 statues, but these are to be regarded as only chief

among the embellishments.

The streets of Rome were commonly paved with blocks of lava quarried

in the neighbourhood from the abundant deposits which had formed in a

not very remote volcanic period.

The materials employed for substantial building were various; in the

older days red and black tufa--a stone so soft as to require

protection by a layer of stucco; later the dark-brown peperino, the

golden-creamy travertine, marble white and coloured, and concrete. The

modern visitor to Rome who regards the ruins but superficially would

naturally imagine that many of the edifices were mainly constructed of

brick. In reality there was no building so composed. The flat

triangular bricks, or rather tiles, which are so much in evidence, are

but inserted in the face of concrete to cover the nakedness of that

material. Concrete alone might serve for cores and substructures, but

those parts of the building which showed were required to present a

more pleasing surface. At the date of Nero this might be achieved by a

fronting of marble slabs and blocks, but more commonly it was obtained

by means of the triangular red or yellow tiles above mentioned. In

buildings of slightly earlier date the exterior often presented a

"diamond pattern" or network arrangement of square pieces of stone

inserted in the concrete while it was still soft. The huge vaults and

arches affected by the Romans made concrete a particularly convenient

material, and nothing could better illustrate its strength than the

tenacity with which it has endured the strain in the unsupported

portions of the vaults of the Basilica of Constantine. Any of the more

imposing buildings which were not mainly of concrete were composed of

blocks of stone, held to each other by clamps soldered in with lead.

Few, if any, such buildings were made entirely of marble. In the case

of those composes of the other varieties of stone already named, the

surface was commonly coated either with stucco or with marble facings

attached by hook-like clamps fixed into the main structure Externally

the appearance of Rome--so far as its public buildings are

concerned-was that of a city of marble. The present having been for

centuries torn away, either to be used elsewhere, or more often to be

burned down for lime.

[Illustration: FIG. 28.--BUILDING MATERIALS. (From Middleton.)]

CHAPTER IX

THE ROMAN TOWN HOUSE

We have taken a general survey of the city of Rome, its open places,

streets, and public buildings. We may now look at the houses in which

the Romans lived, and at the furniture to be expected inside them.

Mention has already been made of the large and lofty tenement houses

or blocks, often mere human rookeries, which were let out in lodgings

to those who did not possess sufficient means to occupy a separate

domicile of their own. These buildings, which were naturally to be

found in the busier streets and more thickly inhabited quarters, were

not, however, the habitations most typical of the romanized world.

They were created by the special circumstances of the city, and might

recur in other towns wherever the conditions were similar. The cramped

island part of Tyre, for example, possessed houses even loftier than

those of Rome. Where there was sufficient room--that is to say, where

there was no large population crowded into a space limited by nature

or by walls of defence--the ordinary house was of a very different

character. It was built on a different plan and seldom ran to more

than two stories, if so high. We shall shortly proceed to describe

such a house; but it is first desirable to say something more of the

tenement "block" in the metropolis. It is to be regretted that no such

building has actually come down to us; we are therefore compelled to

form our notions of one from the scattered references and hints of

literature. Nevertheless if these are read in the light of customs

still observable in Rome itself and in other parts of Italy, the

picture becomes fairly definite.

A block--or "island," as it was called--might be a building of four or

five stories, surrounded by four of the narrow streets, lanes, or

alleys which formed a network in the city. Whether managed by the

landlord, by his agent, or by a tenant who sub-let at a profit, it was

divided into lodgings, which might consist either of a single room or

of a suite. Some such rooms and flats were "ordinary," others were

described (as they are still in the advertisements of modern Rome) as

"suitable for a gentleman," or, to use the exact language of the day,

"suitable for a knight." Access to the respective quarters of the

house was to be gained, not solely through a main door, but by

separate stairs leading up directly from the streets and lanes. It

would appear that each tenant had his own key, corresponding, though

hardly in convenience of size, to our latch-key. Whereas it will be

found that the ordinary private house of one storey was for the most

part lighted by openings in the roof and by wide courts, this

arrangement could manifestly be applied only partially to the tall

tenement buildings. There might, it is true, exist in the middle

interior of such a block an open space or "well," with galleries

running round it at each floor, so that the inner rooms could obtain

light from that quarter. It is also to be assumed that stairs ran up

to these galleries, so that the inward rooms or flats were made

accessible in this way. Mainly, however, the light came from windows

opening on the street. If we glanced up at these from below we should

find them narrower than ours at the present day--since we have

discovered how to produce large and entirely diaphanous sheets of

glass--but probably not narrower than those of a century ago. They

were either mere openings with shutters, or, in the better houses,

were glazed with transparent material. In the brighter part of the

year they contained their boxes of flowering or other plants, and were

often provided with a shade-awning not unlike those so familiar in

Paris.

The roof of such a building was either gabled and covered with tiles

or, though perhaps less often, it was flat. The flat roof sometimes

formed a terrace, on which the plants of a "roof-garden" might be

found growing either in earthenware tubs or in earth spread over a

layer of impermeable cement. The lowest floor, level with the street,

commonly consisted of shops, which were open at full length in the

day, but were shuttered and barred at night. As with the shops which

are now built into the sides of large hotels and the like, they had no

communication with the interior of the building. Regularly, however,

they possessed a short staircase at the back or side leading to an

upper room or _entresol_, where, in the poorer instances, the

shopkeeper might actually reside. To the aristocratic Roman, with his

contempt of petty trade, "born in the shop-loft" was a contemptuous

phrase for a "son of nobody."

Meanwhile the more representative houses of the strictly Roman part of

the Roman world--that is to say, the dwellings of Romans or of

imitators of Romans, wherever they might be settled, as distinct from

the Greek and Oriental houses or from the various kinds of primitive

huts to be found among the Western provincials--were of three chief

kinds. These were the town house, the country seat, and the country

homestead. There was, of course, nothing to prevent a wealthy Roman

from building his town house exactly like a country seat, or vice

versa, if he had so chosen, but from considerations of purpose, apart

from those of local space and view, it would have been altogether

irrational to take either course. The conditions of his life in town

and country differed even more widely than they do with us. The

average Roman, moreover, was a lover of variety in respect of his

habitation. We find in a somewhat later epigrammatist that one grandee

keeps up four town houses in Rome itself, and moves capriciously

from one to the other, so that you never know where you will find

him. At different seasons or in different moods he might prefer

this or that situation or aspect. As for country seats of various

degrees of magnificence, a man might--like many modern nobles or

royalties--possess three, four, a dozen, or twenty. He might, for

example, own one or more on the Italian Lakes, one in Tuscany, one on

the Sabine or Alban Hills, one on the coast within a half-day's run of

Rome, one on the Bay of Naples, one down in the heel of Italy, and so

on. Pliny the Younger, who was born in the reign of Nero, was not a

particularly rich man, yet he owned several country seats on Lake Como

alone, besides others nearer to Rome on north and south, at the

seaside, or on the hills.

We may begin with a town house, and our simplest procedure is to take

a plan exhibiting those parts which were most usual for an

establishment of even moderate pretensions. Let it be understood that

it is but the symmetrical outline of a general scheme which was in

practice submitted to indefinite enlargement or modification. In the

house of Livia, the mother of Augustus, on the Palatine Hill at Rome,

and in various houses at Pompeii--such as those of the Vettii, of

"Sallust," of the "Faun," or of "The Tragic Poet"--there will be found

much diversity in the number and arrangement of the rooms, halls, and

courts. Nevertheless the main principle of division, the general

conception of the portions requisite for their several purposes, was

practically the same. Some of the differences and enlargements may be

illustrated after we have considered our first simple outline. Before

we undertake this, however, it may be well to warn any one who may

have visited or be about to visit Pompeii, that he must exclude from

his thoughts all those small premises of a room or two which face so

many of the streets. These were mostly shops, with which we are not

now dealing. He must also exclude all the public edifices. This done,

he must remember that we now possess only portions of the walls

without the roofs, and that in such circumstances apartments always

appear to be much smaller than they are by actual measurement, or than

they appear when they contain their furniture and appointments

properly disposed. Finally, he must not take a Pompeian house, even

the most spacious, as a fair example of either the size or splendour

of the great houses in the metropolis. Pompeii was but a small place,

with a population of no great wealth or standing, and its houses would

have cut but a provincial figure among those of the same date on the

Aventine, Caelian, Esquiline, or Quirinal Hills. Nevertheless they are

extremely useful to us in reconstructing the type. It is that type and

not the exception which we now consider.

A town house might either be detached or it might stand in a street,

like one of the tenement-blocks, with shops let into the less

important parts of the outer wall of the ground floor. Much would

naturally depend upon the means and dignity of the owner. In any case

the interior portions would belong to the private residence. As a rule

the exterior of the ordinary house was little regarded. No

architecture was wasted upon it; decoration and other magnificence

belonged to the interior. Provided a house possessed a more or less

imposing doorway its exterior walls might be left either to shops or

to a dull monochrome of stucco, pierced here and there, if necessary,

at 9 or 10 feet from the ground by barred slits, which cannot be

called windows, for the admittance of light. The general principle of

a Roman house, as of a Greek, was that of rooms surrounding spaces

lighted from within. Privacy from the outer world was not indeed so

scrupulously sought by the Romans as by the Athenians--principally

because of the more free position occupied by the Roman

women--nevertheless it was secured by the absence of ground-floor

windows opening on any thoroughfare.

[Illustration: FIG. 29.--TYPICAL SCHEME OF ROMAN HOUSE.]

Before the actual door there was commonly an open recess or space a

little backward from the street, in which callers could wait until the

door was opened. This was the "vestibule," and in the case of the

larger houses of the nobles it was often adorned with honorary

statues, on horseback or otherwise, while above the door might be seen

the insignia of triumphs won by the family, a decoration in some

measure corresponding to the modern hatchment, except that it was

permanently fixed. This regularly remained as a mark of the house even

when it changed owners. It was in such a vestibule of his Golden House

that Nero erected his own colossal statue, destined afterwards to give

its name to the Colosseum. Over the larger vestibules there might be a

partial roof, but generally, and perhaps always at this date, they

were without cover.

Facing you in the middle of the vestibule are double or folding doors,

more or less ornate with bronze, ivory, and other work, and generally

bearing a large ring or handle to serve either as a knocker or to pull

the door to. Above them is a bronze grating or fretwork for further

adornment and to admit light and air. Some householders, more

superstitious or conventional than the rest, affected an inscription,

such as "Let no evil enter here," and over some humbler entrance you

might find a cage containing a parrot or magpie, which had been

trained to say "Good luck to you" in Greek. At either side of the

door, or of the actual entrance to the vestibule, is a column or

pilaster, either made of timber and cased with other woods of a more

beautiful and costly kind, or consisting of coloured marble with an

ornate capital. These "doorposts" were wreathed with laurel or other

foliage on festal occasions, such as when the occupant had won some

distinguished honour in the field, in the courts, or at the elections,

or when a marriage took place from within. At funerals small cypress

trees or branches would be placed in and about the vestibule. At one

side of it you might sometimes find a smaller door, to be used for the

ordinary going in and out when it was unnecessary or inconvenient for

the larger doors to be opened.

[Illustration: FIG. 30.--ENTRANCE TO HOUSE OF PANSA. (Pompeii.)]

The doors themselves turn, not upon hinges of the modern kind, but

upon pivots, which move, often too noisily, in sockets let into the

threshold and lintel. The fastenings consisted of locks--often highly

ingenious--of a bar laid across from wall to wall, of bolts shot

across or upward and downward, and sometimes of a prop leaning against

the inside of the door and entering a cavity in the floor of the

passage. The floor of the entrance passage itself might be paved with

marble tiles, or made simply of a polished cement with or without

patterns worked in it; or it might consist of small cubes of stone,

white and black or more variously coloured, frequently worked into

figures, and now and then accompanied by an inscription just within

the threshold, such as "Greeting" or "Beware the Dog." In one Pompeian

house the floor bears the well-known mosaic likeness of a dog held

upon its chain. At the side of the passage there is often a smaller

room for the janitor. When there is none, he must be supposed to have

used a movable seat.

Passing through the passage, you find yourself in a rectangular hall,

upon which was lavished the chief display in the way of loftiness and

decoration. In the middle of the ceiling is an open space, square or

oblong, to which the tiles of the gabled roof converge from above, and

in the middle of the floor beneath is a corresponding basin, edged and

paved with coloured or plain marble. The basin is of no great depth,

and contains the water which has been poured into it from the

ornamental pipe-mouths of bronze or terra-cotta projecting, like

gargoyles, from the edge of the opening above. Sometimes the basin

contained a fountain. There is of course an outlet pipe for the

surplus water, but some of that overflow often ran into a covered

cistern, over which you would find a small circular well-mouth,

ornamented with sculptured reliefs. The opening in the ceiling may be

formed simply by the space between the four cross-beams, or it may be

supported by a pillar--of marble or of brick cased with marble--at

each corner, or it may rest upon a greater number of such pillars. It

is this opening which lets in the light and air to the hall, and it

should always be remembered that the Italian house had more occasion

to seek coolness and freshness than warmth. On a day of glaring

sunshine and heat it was always possible to spread under the opening

an awning or curtain of purple or other colour, of which the reflected

hues meanwhile lent a richness to the space below. If we take one of

the finer houses, we shall see, in glancing at the ceiling which

covers the rest of the hall, that it is divided into sunken panels or

coffers, which are adorned with reliefs in stucco and are painted, or

else are decorated with copper, gold or ivory. The height may be

whatever the owner wishes, but perhaps 25 feet would be a modest

average estimate. The floor in such a house will generally consist of

slabs of marble or of marble tiles arranged in patterns. In houses of

less show it may be made of the same materials as those described for

the entrance passage. To right and left are various chambers, shut off

by lofty doors or by portieres or both. To these light is admitted

their doors and the gratings over them, from the high window-slits

already mentioned in the outer wall, or sometimes, when there is no

upper storey, from sky-lights. And here let it be observed that the

notion that the Romans of this date used very little glass is

altogether erroneous, as the discoveries at Pompeii and elsewhere

sufficiently prove.

[Illustration: FIG. 31.--Interior of Roman House. (Looking from

Reception-hall to Peristyle.)]

The walls of the hall are in the better instances either coated with

panels of tinted marble, or parcelled out in bright bands or oblongs

of paint, or decorated with pictures of mythological, architectural,

and other subjects worked in bright colours upon darkened stucco. To

our own taste these colours--red, yellow, bluish-green, and others--as

seen at Pompeii, are often excessively crude and badly harmonised. But

while it is true that the ancients appear to have been actually

somewhat deficient in colour-sense, it must be borne in mind that many

of the Pompeian houses were decorated by journeymen rather than by

artists, and, above all, full allowance must be made for the

comparatively subdued light in which most of the paintings would be

seen. The hall might also contain statuary placed against the walls or

against the supporting pillars, where these existed. At the farther

end from the entrance you will perceive to right and left two large

recesses or bays, generally with pilasters on either side. These

"wings" were utilised for a variety of purposes. One of them might

occasionally serve for a smaller dining-room, or it might hold presses

and cupboards. In noble houses one of them would contain certain

family possessions of which the occupants were especially proud. These

were the effigies of distinguished ancestors, which served as a

family-tree represented in a highly objective form. At our chosen date

there would be a series of portrait busts or else of portrait

medallions, in relief or painted, while in special receptacles,

labelled underneath with name and rank, were kept life-like wax masks

of the line of distinguished persons, which could be brought out and

carried in procession at the funeral of a member of the family. Though

there was no "College of Heralds" in antiquity, it was commonly quite

possible for a wealthy parvenu to get a pedigree invented for him. It

is true that by use and wont the "right of effigies" was confined to

those families which had held the higher offices of state, but there

was no specific law on the subject, and the Roman _nouveau riche_

could act exactly like his modern representative in securing his

"portraits of ancestors."

[Illustration: FIG. 32.--HOUSE OF CORNELIUS RUFUS. (Pompeii.)]

Having thus glanced to right and left, to the ceiling and the floor,

we now look at the end of the hall facing us. The middle section of

this is open, and is framed by a couple of high pillars or pilasters

and a cornice, which together formed perhaps the most distinguishing

feature of this part of the house. Between the pillars is an apartment

which may or may not be raised a step or two above the level of the

hall. This, unlike the hall itself, is of the nature of a

sitting-room, reception-room, or "parlour" (in the old sense of that

word), and contains appropriate furniture. In it the master receives a

guest, interviews his clients, makes up his accounts, and transacts

such other private business as may fall to his lot. At the back it may

be entirely closed, or it may contain a large window, through which we

can catch a vista of the colonnaded and planted court beyond. The

floor may here consist of a large carpet-like mosaic, such as that

famous piece, taken from the House of the Faun at Pompeii and now in

the Naples Museum, which represents a battle between Alexander and the

Persians. To one side of the entrance to this "parlour" there will

often stand on a pedestal the bust of the owner, as "Genius of the

home." On the other side there is a passage serving as the means of

access to the second or inner division of the house.

[Illustration: FIG. 33.--PERISTYLE WITH GARDEN AND AL FRESCO

DINING-TABLE.]

On making our way through this passage we find ourselves in a space

still more open than the hall. It is commonly an unroofed,

quadrangular court surrounded by a roofed colonnade, and thence known

as the "peristyle." Or the colonnade may extend only round three

sides, the back being free to the garden. In the uncovered space lying

between the rows of pillars there are ornamental shrubs and flowers,

marble tables, a cistern of water containing goldfish, a fountain, and

marble basins into which fresh water is spouted from bronze or marble

statuettes, from figures of animals, or from masks. Under the

colonnade are marble floors or other more or less rich pavements,

decorated walls, and such works of art as the owner most affects.

[Illustration: FIG. 34.--PERISTYLE IN HOUSE OF THE VETTII. (Present

state.)]

When it seems desirable for shade and coolness, coloured curtains or

awnings may be suspended between the columns, so that one can sit or

walk with comfort under the cloistered portion. At the sides are

apartments for different purposes. At the far end, or elsewhere, there

is regularly the largest dining-room, often with mosaic floor and

generally with pictured walls. Whereabouts in the house the family or

an invited party should dine would depend partly on the number to be

present, partly on the season of the year, and partly on some passing

inclination. A house of any pretensions would possess several rooms

used, or capable of being used, for this purpose. Some dining-rooms

had what we should call French windows on three sides, permitting the

diners to enjoy the view of the garden or the shrubbery outside.

Other large and airy apartments or saloons off the peristyle were used

for social conversation, or as drawing-rooms. Farther back still,

approached by another passage or door, there was often to be found a

garden, containing an arbour or a terrace covered with a trailing

vine, of the kind known in modern Italy as a _pergola_. In suitable

weather _al fresco_ meals were often taken here, and occasionally

there were fixed couches and tables of masonry always ready for that

purpose.

Coming back from the garden into the court, we might explore other

passages, leading to the kitchen or to the bathrooms of hot, warm, and

cold water. These offices would be respectively situated wherever

circumstances made them most convenient. In the kitchen the part

corresponding to our "range" consisted of a flat structure of masonry,

on which the fire was lighted. The cooking pots were placed either

upon ridges of masonry running across the fire or upon three legged

stands of iron. The accompanying illustrations will sufficiently show

what is meant. The bedrooms, little better than cells, of the slaves,

and also the storerooms, were variously distributed. Underground

cellars were apparently exceptional, although examples may be seen at

Pompeii.

[Illustration: FIG. 35.--KITCHEN HEARTH IN THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII.]

[Illustration: FIG. 36.--KITCHEN HEARTHS (Drawing).]

Somewhere in one of the bays of the hall, at the back of the peristyle

court, or elsewhere, would be found a small shrine for the worship of

the domestic gods. This was variously constructed. Sometimes it was a

niche or recess containing paintings or little effigies and with an

altar or altar-shelf beneath, sometimes a miniature temple erected

against the wall. There was apparently no special place to which,

rather than any other, it was to be assigned. To the nature and

meaning of the household gods we may refer again when dealing with the

general subject of religion.

[Illustration: FIG. 37.--SHRINE (IN BACKGROUND) IN HOUSE OF THE TRAGIC

POET.]

In the homes of persons of culture there would also be included a

library and, perhaps less regularly, a picture-gallery. The library,

which sometimes comprised thousands of rolls, would be a room not only

surrounded by large pigeon-holes or open cupboards containing the

round boxes for the parchment rolls, but also traversed by lower

partitions provided on either side with similar shelves. About the

room, over or by the shelves, stand portrait busts or medallions of

great authors, both Greek and Roman, the "blind" Homer being

represented in traditional form, but the majority, from Aeschylus and

Thucydides down to Virgil and Livy, being authentic and excellent

likenesses. In the picture-gallery would be found paintings either

done upon the stucco walls in a frame-like setting or upon panels of

wood attached to the walls, very much as we hang our modern pictures.

[Illustration: FIG. 38.--HOUSEHOLD SHRINE.]

It was scarcely ever the case that a second storey--where one existed

at all--extended over the whole house. If upper rooms were used, they

were placed over those parts where they would interfere least with the

light, the comfort, and the appearance of the ground-floor

arrangements. The stairs leading to them were variously disposed and

as little as possible in evidence. In such upper apartments there was

naturally not the same risk from the curious or the burglar as in the

case of the lower, and windows of perhaps 4 by 2-1/2 feet were

therefore freely employed. In some instances, though we cannot tell

how frequently, the second storey projected on strong beams over the

street, as in the example at Pompeii known as the "House of the

Hanging Balcony."

It remains to make brief observations upon one or two matters

interesting to any practical householder. These are the questions of

water-supply, drainage, warming, and roofing.

In respect of water there was no difficulty. It was brought in the

ordinary way, from those reservoirs which formed the ends of the

aqueducts or conduits, by means of pipes, mostly made of lead, though

sometimes of bronze. These were conducted to the points where they

were required, and there the flow was manipulated by means of taps and

plugs. In order to make a water-pipe, a sheet of lead or bronze was

rolled into a cylinder, the joining of the two edges taking the shape

of a raised ridge, which was soldered. One end of a section was

squeezed or narrowed so that it might be inserted into the widened end

of the next. Lead pipes of no inconsiderable size, stamped with the

name of the owner, are to be seen preserved in the Palatine House of

Livia, and a number of smaller ones remain at Pompeii. For drainage

there the sewers, and also pipes to carry the less offensive overflow

of water into the street channels, which in their turn led into

underground drains.

[Illustration: FIG. 88 A.--LEADEN PIPES IN HOUSE OF LIVIA.

(Palatine.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 39.--PORTABLE BRAZIERS.]

For the warming of a house the Romans not only portable braziers with

charcoal for fuel, but in the larger establishments there existed a

system of "central" heating, by which hot air was conducted from a

furnace in the basement through flues running beneath the floor and up

through the walls, where its effect might be regulated by adjustable

openings or registers. The only fixed fire-place in a town house was

in the kitchen. From this the smoke was carried off by a flue,

constituting to all intents and purposes a chimney. The belief that

the Romans were unacquainted with such things as chimneys has been

proved to be untrue.

[Illustration: FIG. 40.--MANNER OF ROOFING WITH TILES.]

The roofing, when constructed, as it most frequently was, in a gabled

form, consisted of terra-cotta tiles arranged on a regular system.

First came the flat layers, each higher row overlapping the lower. The

descending edges of a row of these flat plates, as they lay side by

side, were turned up into a kind of flange of about 2-1/4 inches in

height, so that at the points of contact a ridge was formed down the

roof. Over this line was laid a series of other tiles shaped into a

half-cylinder, the lower end of each tile overlapping the next. By

this means the rain was prevented from penetrating the crevice between

the flanges. At the bottom, above the eaves, the line of semicircular

tiles ended in a flower-like or mask-like ornament, which broke the

monotony of the horizontal edge of the roof.

After this description of what may be considered a representative

Roman house, it is necessary to repeat that it is but typical. Many

were considerably smaller, containing, for example, no peristyle. Many

on the contrary were far more spacious and sumptuous, possessing more

than one hall and more than one peristyle, and varying the nature as

well as the number and position of those portions of the house. In

exceptional cases the hall had no opening in the ceiling and therefore

no basin below, but was covered with a simple gabled roof which shed

the rain-water into the street. In exceptional cases also there was no

"parlour" of the kind described a little while ago. The situation of

the house, enlargements made after the main part was built, the

joining of two houses into one, or other causes, often modified the

rectangular and symmetrical appearance presented in the plan hitherto

given. Such modifications are, however, better illustrated by a

comparison of the plans of two well-known Pompeian houses than by any

amount of verbal description. The first is that of Pansa, which forms

the main portion of a whole block, smaller dwellings and shops

unconnected with the Pansa establishment being built round and into it

at various points. The arrangements of this house closely approach the

normal or simple type described in this chapter. The second is the

famous house of the Vettii, which departs somewhat freely from the

customary disposition of apartments.

[Illustration: FIG. 41.--HOUSE OF PANSA AT POMPEII.]

The parts within the dark lines belong to the one house; the rest are

other houses and shops built into the block.

1. Vestibule 11. Rooms

2. Passage 12. Dining-Room

3. Hall 13. Winter Dining-Room

4. Rooms 14. Saloon (Drawing-Room)

5. Wings 15. Kitchen

6. Dining-Room 16. Carriage Room

7. Parlour 17. Boudoir

8. Passage 18. Portico

9. Library? 19. Saleroom

10. Peristyle 20. Passage to Side Door

[Illustration: FIG. 32.--HOUSE OF CORNELIUS RUFUS. (Pompeii.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 42.--HOUSE OF THE VETTII AT POMPEII. A second

storey extended over the corners and front parts included under the

nine small crosses.]

[Illustration: FIG. 43--SPECIMEN OF PAINTED ROOM.]

It would be tempting to indulge in rhetoric and to dwell upon the

magnificence of some of the more luxurious houses of the wealthy

Romans; to describe their ostentation of rich marbles in pillar, wall,

or floor--the white marbles of Carrara, Paros, and Hymettus; the

Phrygian marble or "pavonazzetto" its streakings of crimson or violet;

the orange-golden glow of the Numidian stone of "giallo antico"; the

Carystian marble or "cipollino" with its onion-like layers of white

and pale-green; the serpentine variety from Laconia, and the porphyry

from Egypt. We might descant upon the lavish wall-paintings,

representing landscapes real and imaginary, scenes from mythology and

semi-history, floating figures, genre pictures, and pictures of still

life; or upon the mosaics in floor and wall depicting similar subjects

and often serving to the occupants not so much in the place of

pictorial art as in the place of wall-papers and of Brussels or

Kidderminster carpets. We might speak of the profuse collections of

statuary, of the gilding on ceiling and cornices, of the colours shed

by the rich curtains and awnings of purple and crimson, of the

grateful sound of water plashing in the fountains and basins or

babbling over a series of steps like a broken cascade in miniature.

But perhaps too much of such description might only encourage still

further the erroneous notion that the Roman houses were all of this

nature, and that even the average Roman lived in the midst of an

abundance of such domestic luxury and art. It requires but a little

sober thought to realise that such homes were, as they have always

been, the exception. It would be as reasonable to judge of an average

London house by the most opulent specimens in Park Lane, or of an

American house by the richest at Newport, as to judge of the abodes of

Romans in the time of Nero by the examples which appeal so strongly to

the novelist or the romancing historian. Suffice it that beside the

modest and frugal homes, the tenement flat, and the hovel, there were

houses distinguished by immense luxury; and, since Romans have at all

times sought the ostentatious and grandiose, perhaps such dwellings

were larger and more pretentious in proportion to wealth than they are

in most civilised countries at the present day. Seneca, who made

himself extremely comfortable in the days of Nero, exclaims upon the

rage for costly decoration. Says he of the bathing of the plutocrat:

"He seems to himself poor and mean, unless the walls shine with great

costly slabs, unless marbles of Alexandria are picked out with reliefs

of Numidian stone, unless the whole ceiling is elaborately worked with

all the variety of a painting, unless Thasian stone encloses the

swimming baths, unless the water is poured out from silver taps."

These, indeed, are comparatively humble. "What of the baths of the

freedmen? a mass of statues! What a multitude of pillars supporting

nothing, but put there only for ornament! What an amount of water

running over steps with a purling noise--and all for show!"

[Illustration: FIG. 44.--SPECIMEN OF WALL-PAINTING. (Pompeii.)]

CHAPTER X

THE COUNTRY HOMESTEAD AND COUNTRY SEAT

Throughout the romanized parts of the empire--in other words, wherever

Romans settled, in Italy, Spain, Gaul, Britain, and also wherever the

richer natives imitated the Roman fashions--the house in any city or

considerable town was built as nearly as possible after the type

described.

In the country the poor naturally had their much simpler cottages and

cabins of a room or two, commonly thatched or shingled, knowing

nothing of hall and court and all these arrangements of art and

luxury. In the case of the more well-to-do country people of

Italy--the larger farmers, wine-growers, olive-growers, and the

like--the homestead was of a kind which made for simplicity and

comfort. It was in such homes that one would find the most wholesome

life and the soundest moral fibre of the time.

Normally the homestead would be a large, and often a rambling,

building of one storey, except where a tower served as a store-room

for the mellowing wine or a loft for the mellowing fruit. When we read

in Horace about the liberal stack of wood to be kept in readiness near

the hearth, and about the wine-jar drinking in the smoke in the

store-room we must think of his country homestead on the Sabine Hills,

not of a house in Rome, for at Rome there was no blazing hearth to sit

round and no smoky tower-loft for the ripening of the Caecuban.

You enter an open court or yard, round the sides of which may run the

stalls of the horses and oxen of the farm, the tool-rooms, the lofts

of hay and corn, the quarters of the labourers--herdsmen, ploughmen,

vine-dressers--and the great farm-kitchen. It is in this kitchen that

you will find the bright hearth in winter-time, where all the members

of the homestead gather round the fire. It is here that they then all

eat, and in it the women of the establishment perform their work,

spinning and weaving and mending. Off from the court will be situated

the wine-press, or the olive-press, the-granaries, the fruit mellowing

on mats, and the various rooms or bins where wine is fermented and

stored, or where the olive-oil is treated and stocked. Commonly a more

retired court will contain the private rooms of the owner, and

somewhere in the homestead will be found the fowl-yard, with its hens,

ducks, geese, and guinea-fowl, the sties, and the preserves for

various toothsome animals, including perhaps dormice and snails.

[Illustration: FIG. 45.--PLAN OF HOMESTEAD AT BOSCOREALE.]

Frequently a Roman of the city affected a country house of this

character, to which he would flee during the tyrannous reign of the

Dogstar or the Lion---in other words, during that hot season of the

year which requires no description for those who have been so

ill-advised as to sojourn in Rome in July, August, and early

September. Many of his town slaves he would take with him, and what

was a holiday for him was also a holiday for them. His rural homestead

would possess great charm for the quieter type of man who had no real

love for the pomps and shows the rattle and tumult, of the city. The

vision of wholesome country-produce--of fresh milk and eggs and

vegetables, and of tender poultry--is one which still attracts our

city-folk. But the vision, then as now, was often subject to

disillusion. Complaints are many that you had to feed the homestead in

place of it feeding you, and when Martial has given a pleasant picture

of a family reaching the gate of Rome with a coachful of the typical

produce of the country, he ends by suddenly letting you know that they

are not coming in from their country house but are going out to it.

The complaint of the English seaside town that there will be no fish

"till the train comes in from London," is thus a sufficiently old one.

Yet the same Martial supplies another picture, painted with such zest

of frank enjoyment that we are at once convinced of its truth. Some

portions of it perhaps admit of translation in the following terms:--

Our friend Fundanus' Baian seat,

My Bassus, is no pleasance neat,

Where myrtles trim in idle lines,

Clipped box, and planes unwed to vines

Rob of right use the acres wide:

'Tis farm-life true and countrified.

In every corner grain is stacked,

Old wines in fragrant jars are packed:

About the farmyard gabbling gander

And spangled peacock freely wander:

With pheasant and flamingo prowl

Partridge and speckled guinea-fowl:

Pigeon and waxen turtle-dove

Rustle their wings in cotes above.

The farm-wife's apron draws a rout

Of greedy porkers round about;

And eagerly the tender lamb

Waits the filled udder of its dam.

With plenteous logs the hearth is bright.

The household Gods glow in the light,

And baby slaves are sprawling round.

No town-bred idlers here are found:

No cellarer grows pale with sloth,

No trainer wastes his oil, but both

Go forth afield and subtly plan

To snare the greedy ortolan.

Meanwhile the garden rings with mirth,

While townfolk dig the yielding earth:

No need for the page-master's voice;

The saucy long-haired boys rejoice

To do the manager's commands.

At morn 'tis not with empty hands

The country pays its call, but some

Bring honey in its native comb,

Or cones of cheese; some think as good

A sleepy dormouse from the wood;

And honest tenants' big girls bring

Baskets with "mother's offering."

The visit to the country in the season of the "mad star" and the

scirocco was as necessary to the ancient Roman as is his

_villeggiatura_ to the modern. But there were other seasons when he

fled from town. If to the heat of summer he sought the hills, in the

colder he might seek the south of Italy, and in spring or autumn the

seaside at various points the mouth of the Tiber to southward of

Salerno, might run away from inconvenient business or ceremonies, or

through a mere desire to get rest or sleep or change. He might wish,

as Cicero and Pliny did, to get away from the "games" and to study and

write in quiet. He might fancy that his health called for baths in the

hot springs on the Bay of Naples, or for sea-bathing somewhere on the

Latian or Campanian coasts. To put it briefly, he was very much like

our worried, bilious, or exhausted selves. His life of ceremony was a

hard one, and often he ate and drank too much. But whereas nowadays we

can make free choice of any agreeable spot, since every such spot

possesses its "Grand Hotel" or "Hotel Superbe," where we can always

find the crowd and discomfort which we pretend to be escaping, the

Roman idea was different. It corresponded more to that of our English

nobles, who, in Elizabethan or Queen Anne days or later, built

themselves country seats, one, two, or more, indulging in

architectural fancies and surrounding all with spacious gardens,

ponds, and rockeries. The Roman man of wealth created no hotels. He

dotted his country seats about in places where the air was warm for

winter and spring, or cool for summer and autumn, by the seashore, on

the lower hills, or high on the mountain side. You would find them on

the Italian lakes or elsewhere toward the north. In greater numbers

would you find them on the hills near Rome, at the modern Tivoli or

Palestrina, on the Alban heights near what are now Frascati, Albano,

or Genzano, along the shore at Antium, Terracina, Baiae, Naples,

Herculaneum, Pompeii, Castellamare, and Sorrento.

Perhaps it is not too much to say that more than a hundred and twenty

miles of this coast were practically a chain of country houses. The

shore of the Bay of Naples has been compared to a collar of pearls

strung round the blue. Wherever there was a wide and varied landscape

or seascape, there arose a Roman country house. We are too prone to

assume that the ancients felt but little love or even appreciation of

scenery, and to fancy that the feeling came as a revelation to a

Rousseau, a Wordsworth, or a nineteenth-century painter. That Roman

literature does not gush about the matter has been absurdly taken for

proof that the Roman writer did not copiously enjoy the glories

presented to his eyes. But, though Roman literature does not gush, it

often exhibits the same feelings towards scenery which at least a

Thomson or a Cowper exhibits. Perhaps it was so accustomed to scenic

beauties that it took for granted much that an English or German

writer cannot. At any rate we are sure that the Roman chose for his

country seat a site commanding the widest and most beautiful outlook,

and that he even built towers upon his house to command the view the

better. In this respect he was like the mediaeval monks, when they

chose the sites of monasteries at San Martino or Amalfi, and his love

of a belvedere was probably quite as great as theirs.

The country seat differed widely from the town house. We must forget

the plan which has been given above, with its hall and court lighted

from within, and made private from the passing crowds in the street.

In the country there is no need of such an arrangement. Moreover there

are no formal receptions to necessitate the hall, and there are ample

gardens to make the peristyle superfluous. Here the walls of the house

may break forth into large and open windows, while all around may run

pillared verandahs. Built in any variety of shape, according to the

situation and the fancy, it may contain an immense variety of

sitting-rooms, dining-rooms, bedrooms, facing in every direction to

catch the sun, the shade, the breeze, or the prospect, as the case may

be. Not that magnificence is any more neglected than in the great

English country seats. The pillars and pavements are as rich as means

allow, and works of painting and statuary are perhaps even finer and

more numerous than in town; there is more time to look at them, and

there are better facilities for showing them off. Many of the best

works of ancient sculpture now extant in the museums have come from

such country seats. There were of course vulgar houses in bad taste,

where the owner's notions of magnificence consisted in ostentatious

extravagance and a desire to outdo his neighbour. As now, everything

depended either on the culture of the man or on the amount of his good

sense in leaving such matters to his artistic adviser.

Outside the house lie the gardens and grounds. For the most part these

are laid out in the formal style adopted so often in more modern Italy

and favoured so greatly in England in the early eighteenth century.

Perhaps the Villa d'Este at Tivoli, though of course not ancient, may

convey some approximate idea of the prevailing principle. Along one

side of the Roman house we should find a smooth terrace ornamented

with statues and vases, to be used as a promenade. There are straight

walks and avenues between hedges and trees and shrubs--cyprus, laurel,

box, and other manageable plants--cut to the shape of beasts and birds

and inanimate objects. There are flower-beds--of the rose, the crocus,

the wallflower, the narcissus, the violet, but not, for example, the

tulip--laid out in geometrical patterns. There are trellis-work

arbours and walks covered with leafy vines or other trailing plants.

There are clumps of bay-trees, plane trees, or myrtles, with marble

seats beneath. There is either an avenue or a covered colonnade, where

the ground is made of soft earth or sand, and where the family may

take exercise by being carried in a litter up and down in the open or

under the shade. There are greenhouses and forcing-houses, where

flowers are grown under glass. There are fish-ponds, fountains, and

water-channels, with artificial cascades and a general suggestion of

babbling streams. Out beyond lie the orchards and the vegetable

gardens, where are grown most of the modern fruits, including peaches,

apricots, and almonds, but not yet including either the orange or the

lemon.

The country immediately round the mansion of the wealthy man was

commonly his own estate. A portion of this was frequently woodland,

affording opportunities for hunting deer, wild boar, and other game.

For the boar the weapon was a stout spear, and the general practice of

the sportsman was to wait at a certain spot until the beast was driven

towards it by a ring of beaters. Deer were caught in nets or

transfixed with javelins while running. In more open places the

hunter, accompanied by hounds, rode after a hare. But though far too

much of Italy was taken up by preserves of this unproductive kind, the

large estates were mostly turned to agricultural purposes. Different

owners, different practices; but the possessor of a number of country

seats would in some cases work the land for himself by means of

slaves--often in disgrace and labouring in chains--under the direction

of a manager or bailiff, while in others he would parcel out his land

on various terms among free tenants. It is gratifying to discover that

in bad seasons a generous landlord would sometimes remit a portion of

his dues, and that he recognised various obligations of a grand

seigneur to his district. Among them was the keeping up and

beautifying of the local shrines and contributing to buildings and

works for the public comfort.

Such would be the country seat when established landward. By the

seaside, especially in a much-frequented resort like Baiae, the room

was more limited and the equipment modified. The extensive garden

would be absent, and the height of the building increased by a second

or even a third storey. It was no uncommon thing for such a "villa,"

as it was called, to stand out on a promontory, where it could be

greeted by the sea on either side. In many cases it was actually built

out into the sea on piles or on a basis of concrete, and the occupant

made a special delight of fishing from his window, and of letting the

true sea-water flow into his swimming bath.

CHAPTER XI

ROMAN FURNITURE

On the customary furniture of a Roman house we need not spend many

words. For one thing, it was simple and scanty as compared with the

furnishing and upholstering of to-day. For another, its nature

presents little that would be strange to us or that would require

explanation.

Among the most conspicuous differences between Roman and modern

furnishing must be reckoned the absence of carpets, the comparatively

small use of tables and chairs, the absence of upholstery from such

chairs as were used, and the greater part played by couches. In place

of carpets there were the ornamental floors, whether in geometrical

pattern-work, arrangements of veined marbles, or mosaic pictures

composed of small blocks of coloured stone or glass. The making of

carpets was well understood in the East, and Rome would have found no

difficulty in obtaining as many as it chose, but so far as it employed

tapestries they were for portieres and curtains, for the coverings of

dining-couches and beds, or for throwing across a chair-back. The

Roman kept his floors, walls, pillars, and ceilings carefully cleared

of dust and stains by means of brushes of feathers or light hair,

brooms of palm or other leaves, and sponges. He thus saved himself

both the labour and the unwholesomeness of carpets.

[Illustration: FIG. 46.--ROMAN FOLDING CHAIR. (Schreiber.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 47.--BRONZE SEAT (Overbeck.)]

We need not enter into dry details concerning such articles as were

similar to our own. Of the Roman seats it is enough to say that they

were either square stools without back or arms, or folding-stools, or

they were true chairs either with straight arms and backs (the Origin

of the modern throne) to be used by the owner when receiving clients

or visitors on business, or with a long sloping back and without arms,

as used particularly by women. A movable cushion constituted all the

upholstery.

But the Roman man seldom took his ease in a chair: even his reading

and writing were commonly performed while reclining upon a couch. When

writing, he doubled his tablets on his knee, and it may be presumed

that habit made the practice easy and natural. The couch is, indeed,

perhaps the chief article of Roman furniture. So regular was it to

recline that, where we should speak of a sitting-room, the Romans

spoke of a "reclining-room." At business they sat; but they reclined

in social conversation--unless it was brief--when reading, when taking

the siesta, and when dining. Their beds in the proper sense were

similar to our own, though less heavy than those of our older fashion.

To mount them it was often necessary to use steps or an elongated

footstool. A slave in close attendance upon a master or mistress

sometimes slept upon a low truckle-bed, which, in the daytime, could

be pushed under the other. The couches for day use were lower and of

lighter and narrower build, with a movable rest at the head and with

or without a back.

[Illustration: FIG. 48.--FRAMEWORK OF ROMAN COUCH.]

Upon the frame of such couches a good deal of decoration was lavished

in the way of veneerings of ornamental wood, or thin plates of ivory

or tortoise-shell, or reliefs in bronze or even in gold or silver. The

feet might also, in the richer houses, consist of silver or of ivory.

For the dining-rooms of people of wealth a special feature was made of

such work upon the conspicuous parts of the frames, while the cushions

and coverings were of costly fabrics, richly dyed and embroidered or

damasked. The method of serving and eating a dinner is a subject which

belongs to our later treatment of a social day, and it must here

suffice to picture the ordinary arrangement of a dinner party.

[Illustration: FIG. 49.--PLAN OF DINING-TABLE WITH THREE COUCHES.]

[Illustration: FIG. 50.--SIGMA.]

In the middle is the table, either square or, if round, made if

possible of a single piece of costly wood richly grained by nature in

a wavy or peacock pattern and obtained by sawing through the lower

part of the trunk of a Moorish tree. The price depended on the size.

Of one such circular slab we learn that it cost L4000. It may be

needless to remark that many tables were only "imitation." When not in

use, and sometimes even then, such tables were protected by coloured

linen cloths. By preference this ancient equivalent of "the best

mahogany" was supported on a single leg, consisting of elephants'

tusks or of sculptured marble. On three sides are placed the couches,

covered with mattresses stuffed with flock or feathers, and provided

with soft cushions for the left arm to rest upon. Sometimes, instead

of the three separate couches, there was but one large couch shaped

like a crescent, either extending round half the large circular table,

or having more than one smaller table placed before it. Tables in

other rooms were scarcely to be found, since, as has already been

remarked, they were not required for reading or writing or for holding

the various articles which we moderns place upon them. Besides the

dining tables we should generally find only a sideboard placed in the

dining-room for the display of articles of plate. This was either of

ornamental wood or of marble with a sculptured stand, and was

distinctly meant for show. In place of tables for supporting necessary

objects we find tripods, either of bronze or marble, with a flat top

and sometimes with a rim.

[Illustration: FIG. 51.--TRIPOD FROM HERCULANEUM.]

Other articles of household furniture were chests and presses or

wardrobes. It was almost a rule that in the hall, at the side or end,

should stand a low heavy chest--occasionally more than one--sometimes

made of iron, sometimes of wood bound with bronze and decorated with

metal-work in relief. In this were contained supplies of money and

other articles of value, and for this reason it was strongly locked

and often fastened to the ground by a vertical rod of iron. Such a

chest is still to be seen in its place in the House of the Vettii at

Pompeii. Of portieres, curtains and awnings enough has been said,

except that they were also used for draping the less ornamental walls.

Mirrors were apparently plentiful. No mention is made of such articles

in glass, probably because the ancients had not yet learned to make

that material sufficiently pure and true or to provide it with the

proper foil or background. For the most part they were made of highly

polished copper, bronze, or silver. The smaller ones were held in the

hand, the handle and back parts being richly and often tastefully

ornamented. There is an epigram extant which tells of a vindictive

Roman dame who struck her maid to the ground with her mirror, because

she detected a curl wrongly placed. Other mirrors were made so as to

stand upon a support, and there is mention of some sufficiently large

to show the full length of the body.

[Illustration: FIG. 52.--CHEST (STRONG-BOX).]

[Illustration: FIG. 53.--MIRRORS.]

In the absence of gas or electricity or even kerosene, there was no

better means of lighting a house than by oil-lamps. Even those were

provided with no chimney. Naturally every effort would be made to

obtain such oil as would produce the least smoke or smell, but

doubtless the difficulty was never completely overcome. It is

therefore natural to hear of the oil being mixed with perfume. In the

less well-to-do houses there might be wax candles, in still poorer

houses candles of tallow or even rush-lights, formed by long strips of

rush or other fibrous plant thinly dipped in tallow. Generally

speaking, however, the Roman house was lit by lamps filled with

olive-oil. The commonest were made of terra-cotta, the better sorts of

bronze or silver, often richly ornamented and sometimes very graceful.

As typical specimens we may take those here illustrated.

[Illustration: FIG. 54.--LAMPS.]

The little figure standing on the one lamp is holding a chain, to

which is attached the probe for forcing up the wick or for clearing

away the "mushrooms" that might form upon it. Lamps are made in all

manner of fantastic shapes--ships, shoes, and other objects--and may

burn either one wick or a considerable number, projecting from

different nozzles. For the purpose of lighting a room they may either

be placed upon the top of upright standards, four or five feet high

and sometimes with shafts which could be adjusted in height like the

modern reading-stand; or they may be hung from the ceiling by chains,

after the manner of a chandelier, or held by a statue, or suspended

from a stand shaped like a pillar or a tree, from whose branches they

hang like fruit. For use in the street there were torches and also

lanterns, which had a metal frame and were "glazed" with sheets of

transparent horn, with bladder in the cheaper instances, or with

transparent talc in the more costly.

[Illustration: FIG. 35.--LAMP-HOLDER AS TREE.]

As with the Greeks, a Roman house was lavish in the use and display of

cups and plate in great diversity of shape and material. Glass vessels

were numerous and, except for a perfectly pure white variety, were

produced both at Rome and Alexandria with the most ingenious finish. A

kind of porcelain was also known, but was very rare and highly valued.

For the most part the poor used earthenware cups and plates or wooden

trenchers. The rich sought after a lavish profusion of silver goblets

studded with jewels and sometimes ventured on a cup of gold, although

the use of a full gold service was by imperial ordinance restricted to

the palace. There were drinking vessels, broad and shallow with richly

embossed or _repousse_ work, or deep with double handles and a foot,

or otherwise diversified. There were all manner of plates and dishes

of silver or of silver-gilt. There were graceful jugs and ladles and

mixing-bowls. What we regard as most essential articles, but missing

from a Roman table, are knives and forks. Table-forks, indeed, were

unknown till a very modern date, but even knives were scarcely in use

at Rome except by the professional carver at his stand. There were

also heaters, in which water could be kept hot at table and drawn off

by a small tap.

[Illustration: FIG. 56.--CUP FROM HERCULANEUM.]

[Illustration: FIG. 57.--KITCHEN UTENSILS.]

If now we stepped into the kitchen we should find there practically

every kind of utensil likely to be of use even for the modern cuisine.

There is no need here to catalogue the kettles and pots and pans, the

strainers and shapes and moulds, employed by Roman cooks. Perhaps it

will suffice to present a number of them to the eye. In general,

however, it deserves to be remarked that such a thing as a pail, a

pitcher, a pair of scales, or a steelyard was not regarded in the

Roman household as necessarily to be left a bare and unsightly thing

because it was useful. The triumph of tin and ugliness was not yet.

Such vessels as waterpots are still to be seen made of copper in

graceful shapes, if one will notice the women fetching water on the

Alban Hills. How far the domestic utensils resembled or differed from

those still in use may be judged from the specimens illustrated.

[Illustration: FIG. 58.--PAIL FROM HERCULANEUM.]

There existed no clocks of the modern kind, but the Romans do not

appear to have suffered much practical inconvenience in respect of

telling the time and meeting engagements. Sundials, both public and

private, were numerous, but these were obviously of no use on gloomy

days or at night. The instrument on which the Romans mainly relied was

therefore the "water-clock," which, though by no means capable of our

modern precision of minutes and even seconds could record time down to

small fractions of the hour. The principle was that of the hour-glass,

water taking the place of sand. From an upper vessel water slowly

trickled through an orifice into a lower receptacle, which at this

date was transparent and was marked with sections for the hour and its

convenient fractions. In this way the time would be told by the mark

to which the water had risen in the lower portion. The Romans were not

unaware of the difference between the conditions of summer and winter

flow of water, but it would appear that they had attained to proper

methods of "regulating" their rather awkward time-pieces. It is as

well to add that in the wealthier houses a slave was told off to watch

the clock and to report the passing of the hours, as well as to summon

any member of the family at the time arranged for an appointment.

CHAPTER XII

SOCIAL DAY OF A ROMAN ARISTOCRAT--MORNING

We have seen in what sort of a home a Roman dwelt in town or country.

Meanwhile it goes without saying that the non-Roman or non-Romanized

populations of the empire were living in houses and amid furniture of

their own special type--Greek, Syrian, Egyptian, or as the case might

be. They were also living their lives after their own fashion in

respect of dress, meals, occupations, and amusements.

We may now look at the manner in which a typical Roman might spend an

ordinary day in the metropolis, and endeavour to form some clear idea

of the outward aspects of such a life. In the first instance our Roman

shall be a man of the senatorial aristocracy, blessed with both high

position and ample means, but one who, for the time being, holds no

public office, whether as a governor, a military commander, a Minister

of Roads or Water Supply, an officer of the Exchequer, or of Justice.

Instead of referring to him awkwardly as "our citizen," we will call

him Silius. The same name may be borne by a large number of other

persons, for it is the name of an early Roman family which in course

of time may have divided into several branches or "houses," answering

to each other very much as the "Worcestershire" So-and-Sos may answer

to the "Hampshire" So-and-Sos, except that the distinction in the

Roman case is not territorial. Our Silius will therefore naturally

bear further names to distinguish him. One will be the special

appellation of his own "house" or branch, derived in all probability

from its first distinguishing member. Let us assume, for instance,

that he is a Silius Bassus. As, again, there are probably a number of

other persons belonging to the same branch and entitled to the same

two designations, he will possess a "front name," answering to our

"Christian" name, and he shall be called for our purposes Quintus

Silius Bassus. It is the middle name of the three which is regarded as

_the_ name, but when there is no danger of mistake our friend may be

addressed or written of as either Silius or Bassus. In private life

among his intimates he prefers to be called Quintus. The individual

name, family name, and branch name were frequently followed by others,

but at least these three are regularly owned by any Roman with claims

to old descent. To us, however, he will be Silius.

He lives, let us say, in one of the larger town-houses on the Caelian

Hill, looking across the narrow valley towards the Palatine, somewhere

near the modern church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo. It is before day-break

that the loud bell has awakened the household slaves and set them to

their work. In the road below and away in the city the carts, which

are forbidden during the full daytime, are still rumbling with their

loads of produce or building-material. All night long the less happily

housed inhabitants have tolerated this noise, together with the

droning and grating of the mills grinding the corn in the bakers'

shops. It is however, now approaching dawn, and imperial Rome, which

goes to sleep late, wakes early. No few Romans, even of the highest

classes, have already been up for an hour or two, reading by

lamplight, writing letters or dictating them to an amanuensis, who

takes them down rapidly in a form of shorthand. Out in the streets the

boys are on their way to school, the poorer ones carrying their own

lanterns--at least if it is the time of year when the days are

short--their writing-tablets and their reading-books, probably Virgil

and Horace, who were standard authors serving in the Roman schools as

Shakespeare and Pope do in our own. Boys of well-to-do parents are

accompanied by an elderly slave of stern demeanour. In the distance

are heard the sounds of the first hammers and the cries of the venders

of early breakfasts.

Silius rises, and with the help of a valet, who is of course a slave,

dresses himself. His household barber--another slave--shaves him,

trims his hair in the approved style and cleans his nails. At this

date clean shaving was the rule. Every emperor from Augustus to

Hadrian, fifty years later than Nero, was clean shaven, and the

fashion set by emperors was followed as closely by the contemporary

Roman as "imperials" and "ram's-horn" moustaches have been imitated in

later times. The hair was kept carefully neither too long nor too

short. Only in time of mourning was it permitted to grow to a

negligent length. By preference it should be somewhat wavy, but there

was no parting. Dandies had their hair curled with the tongs and

perfumed, so at to smell "all over the theatre." If they were bald,

they wore a wig; sometimes they actually had imitation hair painted

across the bare part of the scalp. If nature had given them the wrong

colour, they corrected it with dye. If the exposed parts of the body

were hairy, they plucked out the growth with tweezers or used

depilatories. But these were the dandies, and we need not assume

Silius to have been one of them.

It is to be a day of some formality, and Silius will therefore attire

himself accordingly. In other words, he will put on the typical Roman

garb. Of whatever else this may consist, it will comprise a band round

the middle, a woolen--less often a linen--tunic with or without

sleeves, and over this the voluminous woollen toga; on the feet will

be shoes. Of further underwear a Roman used as much or as little as he

chose. If, like the Emperor Augustus, he felt the cold, he might

indulge in several shirts and also short hose. Such practices,

however, were commonly regarded as coddling. Breeches were worn at

this date only by soldiers serving in northern countries, where they

had picked up the custom from the "barbarians." Mufflers were used by

persons with a tender throat.

[Illustration: FIG. 59.--PATRICIAN SHOES.]

[Illustration: FIG. 60.--ROMAN IN THE TOGA.]

Inasmuch as Silius is of senatorial rank, his tunic, which will show

through the open front of his toga, bears the broad inwoven stripe of

purple running down the middle, and his shoes--which otherwise might

be of various colours, such as yellow with red laces--are black,

fastened by cross straps running somewhat high up the leg and bearing

a crescent of silver or ivory upon the instep. The stripe, the shoes,

and the crescent mark his senatorial standing. That which marks him as

a citizen at all is the toga--an article of dress forbidden to any

inhabitant of the empire who could not call himself in the full sense

"_Civis Romanus_." It was a cumbrous and heavy garment (when spread

out it formed an oval of about 15 feet by 12), with which no man who

wanted to work or travel or simply to be comfortable would hamper

himself. St. Paul was a Roman citizen, but, if he ever wore a toga at

all, it would only be when he desired to bring his citizenship home to

a Roman court, and we should probably be quite mistaken in imagining

that he travelled about with a toga in his baggage, or, as the

Authorised Version calls it, his "carriage." When out of town, in his

country-seat or when amusing himself at home in the city, especially

in the warmer weather, the Roman cast off his toga with a sigh of

relief. In the provincial towns of Italy, though theoretically as much

in demand, this blanket-like covering was little used by any man

except on the most formal public and religious occasions, and, as a

poet says, "when dead," for then the toga was indispensable.

Nevertheless at Rome it was the necessary dress for all men of

position when appearing in any sort of public life. The Roman emperors

insisted upon its use in all places of public amusement--the theatre,

circus, or amphitheatre. In a court of justice the president certainly

could not "see" a pleader unless he wore it. You cannot be present at

a formal social ceremony--a wedding, a betrothal, a coming of age, a

levee--without this outward and visible mark of respect. Nor was it

sufficient that you should wear it. It must be properly draped and

must fall to the right point, which, in front, was aslant over the

lower part of the shin, while behind it fell to the heel. Your

wardrobe slave must see that it has been kept properly folded and

pressed. If you claimed to be a gentleman, and were not in mourning

and not an official, it must be simply and scrupulously white. Poorer

people might wear a toga of a duller or dark-grey wool, which would

better conceal a stain and require to go less frequently to the

fuller. The same dull hue was also worn in time of mourning, or as an

ostentatious token of a gloomy spirit, as for example, when one of

your friends was in peril of condemnation in the law-courts, or when

you fancied that some serious injustice was being done or threatened

to your social order. The only person privileged to wear a toga of

true purple was the emperor. On the whole the Roman dress was very

simple; far more so than in mediaeval times or the days of Elizabeth

or Charles II. Velvet and satin were not yet known, furs hardly so,

and there were very few changes of fashion.

Silius will also wear at least one large signet-ring as well as his

plain ring of gold, but he will leave it to the dandies to load their

fingers with half-a-dozen and to keep separate sets for winter and

summer. When Quintilian, in his _Training of the Orator_, touches upon

the subject of rings, he recommends as requisite for good form that

"the hand should not be covered with rings, and especially should they

not come below the middle joint." A handkerchief will be carried, but

only to wipe away perspiration.

Having finished his dressing, he may choose this time for taking his

morning "snack," corresponding to the coffee and roll or tea and

bread-and-butter of modern times. It is but a light repast of wine or

milk, with bread and honey, or a taste of olives or cheese or possibly

an egg. Schoolboys seem to have often eaten a sort of suet dumpling.

In the strength of this meat our friend will go till mid-day.

As he has no very early call to the imperial court upon the Palatine,

he will now proceed to hold his own reception of morning callers. For

this purpose he will come out to the spacious hall, which has been

already described as the most essential part of a Roman house, and

will there establish himself in the opening of the recess or bay which

has also been described as a kind of reception-room or parlour. Before

he arrives, the hall has been swept and polished by the brooms and

sponges of the slaves, under the direction of a foreman. The number of

Silius' household slaves is very great. Very many Romans of course

owned no slave at all; many had but one or two; but it was considered

that a person of anything like respectable means could hardly do with

less than ten. Silius will probably employ several times that number.

We have mentioned the valet, the barber, the wardrobe-keeper, and the

amanuensis. We must add to these the cooks, the pastry-makers, the

waiters, the room-servants, the doorkeeper, the footmen, messengers,

litter-carriers, the butler and pantrymen. Some of the superior slaves

have drudges of their own. The librarian, accountant, and steward are

all slaves. Even the family physician or architect may be a slave.

Many of these men may be persons of education and talent. Their one

deficiency is that they are not free. Many of them are in colour and

feature indistinguishable from the people outside; most, however, show

their origin in their foreign physique. They are Phrygians,

Cappadocians, Syrians, Jews, Egyptians, Ethiopians, Numidians,

Spaniards, Gauls, Germans, Thracians, and Greeks. Their master either

inherited them from his father or friends, or he bought them in the

slave-market. For whatever reason they became slaves--whether as

prisoners of war, by birth, through debt, through condemnation for

some offence, by kidnapping like that practised by the Corsairs or the

modern Arabs, or through being sold by their own parents--they had

become the Property of slave-dealers, who picked them up in the depots

on the Black Sea or at Delos or Alexandria, and brought them to Rome.

There they were stripped and exposed for sale, the choicer specimens

in a select part of a fashionable shop, the more ordinary types in the

auction mart, where they were placed upon a stand or stone bench, were

labelled with their age, nationality, defects, and accomplishments,

and were sold either under a guarantee or without one. For an ordinary

room-slave Silius, or his agent for him, has paid perhaps L20; for a

servant of more special skill, such as a particularly soft-handed

barber, perhaps L50; the price of a muleteer who was "too deaf to

overhear private conversation in a carriage" might thereby be enhanced

to L150; for a slave with educational or artistic accomplishments--a

good reader, reciter, secretary, musician, or actor--he may have paid

some hundreds. If he is a man of morbid tastes, and affects a

particular kind of dainty favourite, he may go as far as a thousand.

Curly-haired pages and amusing dwarfs are generally dear. It is the

business of the house-steward to see that each slave receives his

daily or monthly rations of corn, a trifling sum of money for other

needs, and perhaps an allowance of thin wine. Many a slave also

received a considerable number of "tips" from guests, as well as

perquisites and presents from his master. With economy he was thus

enabled to purchase his own freedom. The master might also in some

cases provide the slave with the essentials of his dress, to wit, a

coarse tunic, a rough cloak, and a pair of shoes or sabots.

Over all these persons, so long as they are slaves, the owner

possesses absolute power. He can box their ears, or condemn them to

hard labour--making them, for instance, work in chains upon his lands

in the country or in a sort of prison-factory--or he may punish them

with blows of the rod, the lash, or the knout; he can brand them upon

the forehead if they are thieves or runaways, or in the end, if they

prove irreclaimable, he can crucify them. Branded slaves who

afterwards became free and rich sought to conceal the marks by wearing

patches. There were inevitably some instances in which masters proved

so intolerably cruel that their slaves were driven to murder them. To

prevent any conspiracy of the kind the law ordained that, when a

master was so killed, the slaves should one and all be put to death.

It is gratifying to learn that in the reign of Nero the whole populace

sided with a body of slaves in this predicament and prevented the law

from being carried out.

[Illustration: FIG. 61.--SLAVE IN FETTERS.]

But, being a typical Roman, Silius has a strong sense of justice;

moreover he values public opinion as well as his own. Also, being a

typical Roman, he behaves with strictness and for the most part with a

distinct haughtiness of manner, graduated, no doubt, according to the

standing of the individual. When, as was often the case, he did not

even know the name of a slave whom he came across in hall or

peristyle, he frequently addressed him as "Sirrah" or "Sir" or "You,

Sir." To the waiter at table and for ordinary commands, where the

master affects no ceremony, the commonest term is "boy," precisely as

that word is used in the East or _garcon_ in French. If Silius knew

the actual appellation assigned to the slave when bought and was

disposed to be kindly, he accosted him by it, calling him "Syrian," or

"Thracian," or "Croesus," or by his proper Greek or Egyptian name. The

slave, unlike the Roman citizen, owned but one name, and the shorter

the better.

We meet, as is only natural, with many examples of great trust and

confidence between master and slave, and, in the case of the superior

types, no few instances of great kindness and consideration. Pliny

speaks of his "long friendship" for a cultivated slave named Zosimus,

whom he set free, and whom, because he was liable to consumption, he

sent to Egypt and the Riviera for the good of his health. A faithful

or very useful slave could make tolerably sure of being some day

emancipated with all due form and ceremony, either during the master's

lifetime or by his last will and testament. In such a case he became a

Roman citizen of the rank known as "freedman," and after the second

generation there was nothing to prevent his descendants from aspiring

to any position open to any other Roman. Sometimes even his son

attained to public office. On attaining his citizenship the freedman

became entitled to "the three names," and it was the rule that he

should adopt the family name of his master. A freedman of Silius is

himself a Silius. Also by preference he will be a Quintus Silius; but

he will not be a Bassus. The third name will still, for his own

lifetime, be such as to mark him for what he is. Moreover, though

free, he is himself still bound to pay a dutiful respect to his former

master's family, but beyond this he is at his own disposal and in

possession of every right in regard to person and property. Many such

men were extremely skilful in trade and made themselves rich enough to

vie with the Roman aristocracy in outward show. The freedmen of the

Emperor, who occupied positions of influence at court as chamberlains,

stewards, private secretaries and the like, and were the powers behind

the throne, became enormously wealthy. Their houses were adorned with

the finest marble columns, the most richly gilded ceilings, and the

most costly works of art; the choicest fruits ripened under glass in

their forcing-houses, and, when they died, their monuments were among

the most sumptuous by the side of the great highways. "Freedmen's

wealth" became a proverb. They were occasionally even appointed to

those minor governorships held by "agents" of Caesar, and the Felix of

the New Testament was himself a freedman of Nero's predecessor and

brother to one of the richest and most influential of the class. In

the provincial cities of Italy freedmen, though they were not

themselves eligible for the ordinary offices, might in return for acts

of munificence be admitted to what may be called an inferior grade of

knighthood--a sort of C.M.G.--styled the "Order of Augustus." They

thus became notables of their own town in a way of which they were

sufficiently proud, as the Pompeian inscriptions show. It was part of

the shrewdness of Augustus to kill two birds with one stone, by

erecting a provincial order directly attached to the cult of the

Emperor, and by encouraging the local self-made man to spend money

liberally upon the embellishment and comfort of his own municipality.

Well, Silius, meeting with or escorted by various slave attendants,

passes from the inner rooms through the passage into the hall and

finds waiting for him a throng of visitors known as his "clients" or

dependants. The position of these persons is somewhat remarkable. They

are commonly free Roman citizens of the "genteel" middle class, who

openly admit that they depend for the bulk of their living upon the

patronage of the noble or the rich. The custom arose from a very old

condition of things, under which certain classes of citizens, not

being entitled to appear in the law-courts or in public business on

their own behalf, put themselves under the protection of a person so

entitled, who, in return for certain acts of support and deference,

appeared as their advocate and champion. At a later time, even though

their rights had become complete, men might still seek counsel, legal

advice, and advocacy from a person of influence and eloquence. In

return they paid him the honour of escort in the streets, supported

him in his candidature for public office, applauded his speeches, and

exercised on his behalf such influence as they possessed. The standing

of a prominent Roman was apt to be measured by the number and quality

of the persons thus attaching themselves to him. If next it is

remembered that very few money-making occupations were looked upon

with favour by the Romans, and that the higher orders were for the

most part very rich, it will be obvious that there would grow up the

custom of the patron making liberal presents to his dependants--money

gifts, or gifts of small properties and of useful articles--as well as

of inviting them to his table. The clients themselves brought little

presents on the patron's birthday or some other special occasion, but

these were merely the sprats to catch the whale. It gradually resulted

that the patronage extended by the aristocrat or plutocrat was mainly

one of a direct pecuniary nature. As in other cases where a dubious

custom develops gradually, there ceased to be any shame in this

relation. Many members of the middle class, impoverished and earning

practically no other income, lived the life of genteel paupers. They

would attend the morning reception of a grandee, either bringing with

them, or causing a slave to bring, a small basket, or even a portable

cooking-stove, in which they carried off doles of food distributed

through his servants. The scene must have borne no slight resemblance

to that of the charity "soup-kitchen." In process of time, however,

this practice became inconvenient for all parties, and most of the

patrons compounded for such doles by making a fixed payment, still

called the "little basket," amounting perhaps to a shilling in modern

weight of money for each day of polite attention on the part of a

recognised "client." If a client was acknowledged by more than one

patron, so much the better for the amount of his "little baskets." In

some cases the dole was paid to each visitor at the morning call; in

others only after the work of the patron's day was done and when he

had gone to the elaborate bath which preceded his dinner in the later

part of the afternoon. By this means the complimentary escort duty was

secured until that time.

Among the dependants were nearly all the genteel unemployed of Rome,

including the Grub-Street men of letters, who in those days could make

little, if anything, by their books, and who therefore sought the same

kind of assistance as did our own literary rank and file in the early

eighteenth century. When we read the authors of the period we are

inevitably reminded of Samuel Johnson waiting in the ante-chamber of

Lord Chesterfield, and of the flattering dedications of books which

were so liberally or illiberally paid for by the recipients of such

compliments. From his little flat, often a single room and practically

an attic, in the tenement-house, the client would emerge before

daylight, dressed _de rigueur_ in his toga, which was often sadly worn

and thin. He would make his way for a mile or more through the carts,

the cattle, an the schoolboys, sometimes in fine weather, sometimes

through the rain and cold, when the streets were muddy and slippery,

and would climb the hill to his patron's door, joined perhaps on the

way by other citizens bent on the same errand. Gathering in that open

space or vestibule which has already been described, they waited for

the janitor to open the door. If the doorkeeper of Silius was like the

generality of his kind, he would take a flunkey's pleasure in keeping

them waiting, and also, except in the case of those who had been wise

enough to ease his manners with a "tip," or who were known to be in

special favour, a flunkey's pleasure in exhibiting his contempt.

Brought into the hall, they stood or sat about and conversed until

Silius appeared. Then, according to an established order of

precedence--which apparently depended on seniority of acquaintance,

while again it might be affected by a _douceur_--they were presented

one by one to the patron.

One must not expect a Roman noble to deign always to remember the

names of humble persons--sometimes he actually did not--and therefore

a slave, known as the "name-caller," announces each client in turn.

The client says, "Good morning, Sir," and Silius replies, "Good

morning, So-and-So," or "Good morning, Sir," or simply "Good morning."

There is a shaking of hands, or, if the patron is a gracious gentleman

and the client is of old standing, Silius may kiss him on the cheek

and offer some polite inquiry or remark. A very haughty person might

merely offer his hand to be kissed and perhaps not open his mouth at

all, even if he condescended to look at you. But these habits were

hardly so characteristic of our times as of a somewhat later date.

The reception over, the client obtains information as to the movements

of his patron during the day. On the present occasion it appears that

Silius himself is to proceed at once to pay his own morning homage to

a still higher patron, His Highness Nero, who is at home on the

Palatine Hill, and whose levee calls imperatively for the attendance

of certain members of the aristocracy. At the palace there exists a

roll of persons known as the "friends of Caesar"--a roll which depends

solely on the favour of the emperor. Naturally it contains the names

of a number of the highest senators and of the chief officers of the

state, but a place in it is not gained simply by such positions, nor

is it restricted to them. There may be a few knights and others on the

list. To be removed from the roll is to be socially a marked man and a

person to be avoided. Silius is, at least for the time being, one of

the "friends." Nero is not yet in sufficient financial straits to

require that Silius should be squeezed or sacrificed, nor has he

chosen to take offence at something which a spy or informer has

reported of him. Our friend therefore enjoys the _entree_ to the

palace, and to the palace he goes.

It is a clear fine morning, and he has plenty of time. He therefore

perhaps elects to go on foot. Learning this, a number of his clients

form a procession. Some are honoured by walking at his side, a few go

in advance and so clear a way through the crowd--which is already

moving at the top of the Sacred Way--to the point where you turn off

on the left and ascend to the entrance to the Palatine Hill. Some of

the clients will walk behind, where also will be a lackey or two in

waiting. On the way Silius may perhaps meet with Manlius, another

noble, whom he probably greets with "Good morning, brother," and a

kiss upon the cheek. This kissing, it may be remarked, ultimately

became an intolerable nuisance, particularly among the middle classes,

and the epigrammatist, after complaining of the cold noses and wet

osculations of the winter-time, pleads to have the business at least

put off till the month of April.

When it is a bad or sloppy day, Silius will decide to go in his

litter, or Roman form of the palanquin. Being a senator he may use

this conveyance, otherwise at this date he could not. There are also

sedan chairs, but as yet there exists a prejudice against these as

being somewhat effeminate. At this decision four, six, or eight tall

fellows, slaves from Cappadocia or Germany by preference, clad in

crimson liveries, thrust two long poles through the rings or the

coloured leather straps which are to be found on the sides of the

litter, and place these poles upon their shoulders. To all intents and

purposes the litter is a couch with an arched roof above it, of the

shape here indicated, but covered with cushions, which are often

stuffed with down. Its woodwork is decorated with silver and ivory.

The litter may either be carried open on all sides, or with curtains

of coloured stuffs partially drawn, or it may be enclosed by windows

of talc or glass. In the days when litters were in promiscuous use,

persons who did not possess one, or perhaps the slaves to bear it,

might hire such a vehicle from the "rank," after the modern manner of

hiring a cab. In this receptacle Silius is carried amid the same

procession as before.

[Illustration: FIG. 62.--LITTER.]

He will wear nothing on his head. On a journey, or when the sun was

particularly strong in the roofless theatre or circus, he might put on

a broad-brimmed hat, very much like that of the modern Italian priest.

Instead of the hat it was common, when the weather so required, either

to draw a fold of the toga over the head or to wear a hood closely

resembling the monkish cowl. This might be either attached to a cloak

or made separately for the purpose. The hood was also employed when,

particularly in the evening, the wearer had either public or private

reasons for concealing his identity as he moved abroad, commonly

issuing in such cases from his side door. But on an ordinary day, and

when attending a ceremony, the Roman head is bare. So also are the

hands, for gloves are not yet in use.

On arriving at the palace--outside which there is generally standing a

crowd of the curious or the snobs--Silius passes through the guards,

Roman or German, at the doors, is taken in hand by the court slave or

freedman who acts as usher, and himself goes through a process similar

to that which his own clients have undergone. There are times, and

just now they may be frequent, at which he will have to submit to a

search, for fear he may be carrying a concealed weapon. If he is high

in favour or position, he belongs to the batch of "first admittance,"

or first _entree_. If not, he must be contented with "second." He will

find that His Highness Nero, exacting as he may be concerning the

costume of his callers, will not trouble to put on his own toga, as a

more respectable emperor would have done, but will appear in anything

he pleases, frequently a tunic or a wrapper of silk, relieved only by

a handkerchief round the neck. Nor will his High Mightiness always

condescend to lace his shoes. If he is in a good humour, he may bestow

the kiss, remember your name, and call you "my very dear Silius." If

he has been accustomed to do so, but omits the warmer greeting on this

occasion, it may be taken as boding you no good. It is, however, very

probable that in this year 64 he will refuse the kiss to almost every

one of the senators, for he has already come openly to detest them. It

will suffice if he so much as offers his hand to be saluted. Caligula,

being a "god," had sometimes offered his foot, but only that

crack-brained emperor had so far attempted this enormity.

[Illustration: FIG. 63.--READING A PROCLAMATION. (Pompeii.) The

writing is upon a long board in front of equestrian statues.]

The day happens to be one on which the emperor has nothing further to

say and requires no advice. Silius is therefore free to go his ways.

There is also no meeting of the Senate, no festival, chariot-race, or

show of gladiators. He has therefore only the ordinary day before him,

and he proceeds, as practically every other caller does, towards the

Forum and its neighbourhood. If on his way he meets with a great

public official--a consul or a praetor--proceeding on duty, he

politely makes way, and, if his head chances to be covered, he

uncovers it. He loyally recognises the claims of that toga edged with

purple, and of those lictors walking in front with the symbolic

bundles of rods containing the symbolic axe. Whatever he may think of

the men, he pays all respect to their office. The Forum is now full,

the banking and money-changing are all aglow in the Basilica Aemilia,

the loungers are playing their games of "three men in a row," or

perhaps their backgammon, on the pavement of the outer colonnade of

the Basilica of Julius. Groups are reading and discussing the columns

of the "Daily News," which are either posted up or have been purchased

from the professional copiers. This is an official, and therefore a

censored, publication in clear manuscript, containing proclamations,

resolutions of the senate, bulletins of the court, results of trials,

the births and deaths registered in the city, announcements of public

shows and sports, striking events, such as fires, earthquakes, and

portents, and occasional advertisements. Silius may perhaps stop and

read; more probably his slaves regularly purchase a copy for his

private use. Criers are meanwhile bawling to you to come and see the

Asiatic giant, or the mermen, or the two-headed baby. The old sailor

who has been wrecked, or pretends to have been, is walking about with

a harrowing picture of the scene painted on a board and is soliciting

alms. The busybody is gossiping among little knots of people and

telling, manufacturing, or magnifying the latest scandal, or the

latest news from the frontier, from Antioch, from the racing-stables,

the law-courts, or the palace. Perhaps Silius has a little banking

business to do, and he enters the Basilica to give instructions as to

sending a draft to Athens or Alexandria in favour of some friend or

relative there who is in want of money, or whom he has instructed to

make artistic or other purchases. In about seven days his

correspondent will obtain the cash through a banker at Athens, or in

about twelve or fourteen days at Alexandria.

Perhaps, however, one of his clients has asked for his help in a case

at law, which is being tried either over the way in the Basilica of

Julius, or round the corner to the right in the Forum of Augustus. If

a man of study and eloquence, he may have consented to act as

pleader--taking no fee, because he is merely performing a patron's

duty. _Noblesse oblige_. In the year 64 a pleader who has taken up a

cause for some one else than a dependant is allowed by law to charge a

fee not exceeding L100, but the law says nothing, or at least can do

no thing, as to the liberal presents which are offered him under some

other pretext. If he is not to plead, Silius may at any rate have been

requested to lend moral support by seating himself beside the favoured

party and perhaps appearing as a witness to character. If he pleads in

any complicated or technical case, it will generally be after careful

consultation with an attorney or professional lawyer. Round the apse

or recess in which the court sits there will stand a ring of

interested spectators, and among them will be distributed as many as

possible of his own dependants, who will religiously applaud his

finely-turned periods and his witticisms. There was generally little

chance of missing a Roman forensic witticism; its character was for

the most part highly elaborate and its edge broad. In a later

generation it was not rare for chance bystanders to be hired on the

spot as _claqueurs_. The court itself consists of a large body of

jurymen of position empanelled, not for the particular case, but for

particular kinds of cases and for a period of time, and over these

there presides one of the public officials annually elected for the

judicial administration of Rome. The president sees that the

proceedings are in accordance with the law, but the verdict is given

entirely by the jury.

[Illustration: FIG. 64.--SEALED RECEIPT OF JUCUNDUS. Beside each seal

is a signature; the writing in the hollow leaf is a summary of the

receipt, which is itself shut between the two leaves bound with

string.]

If there is no need for Silius to attend such a court, he may find

many other demands upon his time. Among Romans of the higher classes

etiquette was extremely exacting. Contemporaries themselves complain

that social "duties" or "obligations" frittered away a large

proportion of their day, and that they were kept perpetually "busy

doing nothing." One man or woman is making a will, and asks you to be

one of the witnesses to the signature and sealing; another is

betrothing a son or daughter, and invites you to be present and attest

the ceremony; another has a son of fifteen or sixteen concerning whom

it is decided that he has now come of age, must put on the white toga

of a man in the place of the purple-edged toga of the boy, and be led

into the Forum in token of his new freedom; you must not omit the

courtesy of attending. Another desires you to go with him before the

magistrate while he emancipates a slave. Worst of all, perhaps, is the

man who has written a poem or declamation, and who proposes to read

it, or to get a professional elocutionist to read it, to his

acquaintances. He has either hired a hall or borrowed a convenient

room from a friend, and you are kindly invited to be present. We learn

that these amateur authors did not permit their victims to forget the

engagement, but sent them more than one reminder. At the reading or

recitation it was your duty to applaud frequently, to throw

complimentary kisses, and to exclaim in Greek, "excellent," "capital,"

"clever," "unapproachable," or "again," very much as we say "encore"

in what we think is French, or "bravo" in Italian. The native Latin

terms most commonly in use may perhaps be translated as "well said,"

"perfect," "good indeed," "divine," "a shrewd hit." On one occasion a

certain Priscus was present at the reading of a poem, and it happened

to open with an invocation to a Priscus. No sooner had the author

begun, "Priscus, thou bidst me tell ..." than the man of that name

called out "Indeed I don't." This "caused laughter" and "cast a chill

over the proceedings." Pliny apologises for the man, as being a little

light in the head, but he is manifestly tickled all the same. It is

scarcely a wonder that the Roman was glad to escape from all these

formalities of "toga'd Rome" to his country seat, or to the freer life

of Baiae.

His business in the Forum accomplished, Silius returns to his house on

the Caelian. As, on the slope of the Sacred Way, he passes the rich

shops of the jewellers, florists, and perfumers, he may be tempted to

make some purchase, which the attendant slaves will carry to the

house. Arrived there, he will take his luncheon, a fairly substantial

though by no means a heavy meal. He may perhaps be a married man. If

nothing has yet been said about his wife, it is because in the higher

Roman households the husband and wife owned their separate property,

lived their own lives, and were almost equally free to spend their

time in their own way, since marriage at this date was rather a

contract than a union. If, however, he is a benedict, it is probable

that at this meal the family will meet, no outside company being

present. Silius himself reclines on a couch, the children are seated,

and the wife may adopt either attitude. After this our friend will

probably take a siesta, precisely as he might take it in Italy to-day.

The practice was indeed not universal; nevertheless it was general. He

will not go to bed, but will sleep awhile upon a couch in some quiet

and darkened room. If he cannot sleep, or when he wakes, he may

perhaps read or be read to. Where he will spend the afternoon till the

bath and dinner is a matter of his own choice.

CHAPTER XIII

SOCIAL DAY OF A ROMAN ARISTOCRAT (_continued_)--AFTERNOON AND DINNER

We will suppose that Silius is specially inclined for action and

society. The afternoon is growing chilly, and, as he has no further

ceremonial to undergo, he will probably throw over his toga a richly

coloured mantle--violet, amethyst, or scarlet--to be fastened on the

shoulder with a buckle or brooch. In very cold weather, especially

when travelling, Romans of all classes would wear a thick cloak,

somewhat like the cape worn by a modern policeman or cab-driver, or

perhaps more closely resembling the _poncho_ of Spanish America. This,

which consisted of some strong and as nearly as possible waterproof

stuff, had no opening at the sides, but was put on by passing the head

through a hole. To-day Silius puts on the coloured mantle, and gets

himself carried across the Forum, through the gap between the

Capitoline and Quirinal Hills, and into the Campus Martius, somewhere

about the modern Piazza Venezia and the entrance to the Corso. Here he

may descend from his litter, and purchase a statuette, or a vessel of

Corinthian bronze or silver, or an attractive table with the true

peacock markings, or a handsome slave. While doing so, he may find

amusement in observing a pretender who "shops" but does not buy,

wearying the dealers by pricing and disparaging the costliest tables

and most artistic vessels, and ending with the purchase of a penny pot

which he carries home himself. He may then stroll along under the

pictured and statued colonnades, perhaps offering the cold shoulder to

various impecunious toadies who are there on the look-out for an

invitation to dinner, perhaps succumbing to their blandishments. His

lackeys are of course in attendance, and clients are still about him.

In passing he is greeted by some person who is hanging officiously

round a litter containing an elderly lady or gentleman, and whom he

recognises as what was called an "angler"--that is to say, one whose

business is to wheedle gifts or a legacy out of childless people of

wealth. This was a regular profession and extremely lucrative when

well managed.

A little further, and he stops to look at the young men curvetting and

wheeling on horseback over the riding-ground. Away in the distance

others are swimming backwards and forwards across the Tiber. Or he

steps into an enclosure, commonly connected with the baths, where not

only young men, but their seniors, even of high rank, are engaged in

various exercises. Some of them are stripped and are playing a game

with a small hard ball, which is struck or thrown, and smartly caught

or struck onward by right or left hand equally, from the three corners

of a triangle. Some are playing with a larger and lighter article,

something like a football stuffed with feathers, which seems to have

been punched about by the fist in a way calling for considerable

judgment and practice. Others are jumping with dumb-bells in each

hand, or they are running races, or hurling a disk of stone, or

wrestling. Yet others are practising all manner of sword strokes with

a heavy wooden weapon against a dummy post, merely to exercise

themselves keep down their flesh.

[Illustration: FIG. 65.--DISCUS-THROWER.]

[Illustration FIG 66.--STABIAN BATHS. (Pompeii.)]

Probably Silius will himself take a hand in the three-cornered game,

unless he possesses a private court at home and is intending to take

his bath there instead of in one of the larger public or semi-public

establishments. Whether he bathes in the baths of Agrippa at the back

of the Pantheon, or in those of Nero, or in his own, the process will

be much the same. The arrangements are practically uniform however

great may be the differences of sumptuousness and spaciousness. We

have not indeed yet reached the times of those huge and amazing

constructions of Caracalla and Diocletian, but there is no reason to

doubt that the existing public baths were already of much

magnificence. Regularly we should first find a dressing-room with

painted walls, a mosaic floor, and glass windows, and provided with

seats, as well as with niches in the walls to hold the clothes.

Adjoining this is a "cold" room, containing a large swimming-bath.

Next comes a "warm" chamber, with water heated to a sufficient and

reasonable degree, and with the general temperature raised either by

braziers or by warm air circulating under the floor or in the walls.

After this a "hot" room, with both a hot swimming-bath and a smaller

marble bath of the common domestic shape--though of much larger

size--provided with a shower, or rather with a cold jet. Lastly there

is a domelike sweating-chamber filled with an intense dry heat. The

public baths built by Nero were particularly notorious for their high

temperature. After the bath the body was rubbed over with perfumed

oil, in order to close the pores against the cold, and then was

scraped down with the hollow sickle-shaped instrument of bronze or

iron depicted in the illustration. The other articles there shown are

a vessel containing the oil, and a flat dish into which to pour it for

use. These, together with linen towels, were brought by your own

slave.

[Illustration: FIG. 67.--BATHING IMPLEMENTS.]

Silius is now carried home, and as it is approaching four o'clock, he

dresses, or is dressed, for dinner. His toga and senatorial

walking-shoes are thrown off, and he puts on light slippers or

house-shoes, and dons what is called a "confection" of light and easy

material--such as a kind of half-silk--and of bright and festive

colours. Some ostentatious diners changed this dress several times

during the course of a protracted banquet, giving the company the

benefit of as great a variety of "confections" as is afforded by a

modern star actress in the theatre. If the days are long and it is

suitable weather, he may perhaps dine in the garden at the back of the

peristyle. Otherwise in the dining-room the three couches mentioned in

a previous chapter (FIG. 48) are arranged along three sides of a

rectangle. Their metal and ivory work gleams brightly, and they are

resplendent with their embroidered cushions. In the middle of the

enclosed space shines the polished table, whether square or round. The

sideboard is laden with costly plate; the lamps are, or soon will be,

alight upon their tall shafts or hanging from their chains; the stand

for the carver is awaiting its load. The dining-room steward and his

subordinates are all in readiness.

At the right time the guests arrive, endeavouring to show neither

undue eagerness by being too early nor rudeness by being too late.

Each brings his own footman to take off his shoes and to stand behind

him, in case he may be needed, though not to wait at table, for this

service belongs to the slaves of the house. After they have been

received by the host, the "name-caller" leads them to their places,

according to such order of precedence as Silius chooses to

pre-arrange. The regular number of guests for the three couches will

be nine--the number of the Muses--or three to each couch. To squeeze

in more was regarded as bad form. If the crescent couch and the large

round table are to be used the number may be either six or seven. The

position of Silius himself as host will be regularly that marked H on

the plan, while the position of honour--occupied by a consul if one be

present--will be that marked C.

Each guest throws himself as easily as possible into a reclining

attitude, resting his left elbow on the cushion provided for the

purpose. He has brought his own napkin, marked with a purple stripe if

he is a senator, and this he tucks, in a manner still sufficiently

familiar on the continent of Europe, into upper part of his attire.

Bread is cut and ready, but there are no knives and forks, although

there is a spoon of dessert size and also one with a smaller bowl and

a point at the other end of the handle for the purpose of picking out

the luscious snail or the succulent shell-fish. The dainty use of

fingers well inured to heat was necessarily a point of Roman domestic

training.

There have been many--perhaps too many--descriptions of a Roman

dinner, but the tendency, especially with the novelist, is to

exaggerate grossly the average costliness and gluttony of such

banquets. Undoubtedly there were such things as "freak" dinners almost

as absurd as those of the inferior order of American plutocrat.

Undoubtedly also there was often a detestable ostentation of reckless

expenditure. But we are endeavouring to obtain a fair view of

representative Roman practice, and must put out of our minds all such

vagaries as those of the ceiling opening and letting down surprises,

or of dishes composed of nightingales' tongues and flamingoes' brains.

These were always, as a later writer calls them, "the solecisms of

luxury." Nero himself, or rather the ministers of the vulgar pleasures

which he regarded as those of artistic genius, devised an abundance of

such expensive follies and surprises, but we must not permit the

professional satirist or Stoic moralist to delude us into believing

them typical of Roman life. Praise of the "simple life" and the simple

past is no new thing. It is extremely doubtful whether at an ordinary

Roman dinner-party there was any such lavish luxury as to surpass that

of a modern aldermanic banquet. We can hardly blame the people who

could afford it for obtaining for their tables the best of everything

produced around the Mediterranean Sea, any more than we blame the

modern citizen of London or New York for obtaining the choicest foods

and dainties from a much wider world. Doubtless a Roman dinner too

often meant over-eating and over-drinking, and doubtless neither the

ordinary table manners nor the ordinary table conversation would

recommend themselves to us. The same might be said of our own

Elizabethan age. But any one intimately acquainted with Latin

literature as a whole, and not merely with the more savoury passages

commonly selected, will necessarily incline to the belief that

novelistic historians have too often been taking what was exceptional,

eccentric, and strongly disapproved by contemporaries, for the usual

and the normal. If we read about Romans swallowing emetics after

gorging themselves, so that they might begin eating afresh, we may

feel both disgust and pity, but we must not imagine such a practice to

have been a national habit.

The dinner regularly consisted of three divisions: a preliminary

course of _hors d'oeuvres_, the dinner proper, and a sort of enlarged

dessert. It might or might not be accompanied or followed by various

entertainments, and closed by a protracted course of wine-drinking.

All would depend upon the tastes of the host and the nature of the

company. The meal, it may be mentioned, begins with an invocation

corresponding to our grace. The _hors d'oeuvres_ are taken in the

shape of shell-fish, such as oysters and mussels, snails with piquant

sauce, lettuce, radishes and the like, eggs, and a taste of wine

tempered with honey.

Next comes the dinner proper, commonly divided into three services,

comprising a considerable choice of fish (particularly turbot,

flounder, mullet, and lampreys), poultry and game (from chicken, duck,

pigeon, and peacock, to partridges, pheasants, ortolans, and

fieldfares), hare, joints of the ordinary meats, as well as of wild

boar and venison, a kind of haggis, a variety of the vegetables most

familiar to modern use, mushrooms, and truffles. There is abundant,

and to our taste excessive, use of seasonings, not only of salt,

vinegar, and pepper, but of oil, thyme, mint, ginger, and the like,

The _piece de resistance_--a wild boar, or whatever it may

be--regularly arrives as the middle of the three services. The

substantial meal ends with a small offering to the household deities.

After this follows the dessert, consisting of fresh and dried fruits,

and of cakes and sweet-meats artistically composed.

During the dinner a special feature is made of the artistic

arrangement of the various viands upon the large trays or stands from

which the guest makes his choice, for the several dishes belonging to

one course were not brought separately to table. In full view of the

guests the professional carver exhibits his dexterity with much

demonstration of grace and rapidity, and well-dressed and

neat-fingered slaves render the necessary service. Of plates and

dishes of various shapes and purposes, silver and silver-gilt, there

is great profusion.

The conversation meanwhile depends upon the company. Sometimes it

turns upon the chariot-races and the chances of the "Red" or "Green";

sometimes it is social gossip and scandal. If the guests are of a

graver cast of mind, it may be concerned with questions of art and

literature, or even philosophy. The Roman particularly affected

encyclopaedic information, and frequently posted himself with such

miscellaneous matter derived from a salaried domestic philosopher or

_savant_--commonly, of course, a Greek. But upon politics in any real

sense conversation will either not turn at all, or else very

cautiously, at least until some one has drunk more than is good for

him. It is only too easy to drop some remark which may be construed

into an offence to the emperor, and there are too many ears among the

slaves, and perhaps too many among the guests, to permit of any risk

in that direction. In some rather serious companies a professional

reader or reciter entertained the diners with interesting passages of

poetry or prose; before others there might be a performance of scenes

from a comedy. At times vocal and instrumental music was discoursed by

the domestic minstrels; or persons, generally women, were hired to

play upon the harp, lyre, or double flageolet. Such performances would

also be carried on during the carousal which often followed deep into

the night, and to these may be added posture-dances by girls from

Cadiz, juggling and acrobatic feats, and other forms of "variety"

entertainment. Dicing in public, except at the chartered Saturnalian

festival, was illegal--a fact which did not, of course, prevent it

from being practised---but it was permitted in private gatherings like

this, provided that ostensibly no money was staked. The dice are

rattled in a tower-like box and are thrown upon a special board or

tray. You may play "for love," or, as the Romans called it, "for the

best man," or you may play for forfeits. Naturally the forfeits became

in practice, in spite of the law, sums of money. The best possible

throw is called "Venus," the worst possible "the dog." A sort of

draughts or of backgammon may be preferred at more quiet times of

social intercourse; but a game like "head or tail," called in Latin

"heads or ships," was a game for the vulgar.

[Illustration: FIG. 68.--ACROBATS.]

If it was decided to indulge in a prolonged carousal in form, heads

were wreathed with garlands of roses, violets, myrtle, or ivy; lots

were cast for an "umpire of the drinking," and he decided both how

much wine--Falernian, Setine, or Massic--should be drunk, and in what

degree it should be mixed with water. A large and handsome mixing-bowl

stands in the dining-hall. From this the wine is drawn by a ladle

holding about as much as a sherry-glass, and a certain number of such

"glasses" are poured into each cup according to the bidding of the

umpire. While being poured into the "mixer" the wine is passed through

a strainer and in the hot weather the strainer would be filled with

snow brought down from the nearest mountains and artificially

preserved. Healths were drank in as many "glasses" as the name

contained letters; absent ladies were toasted in a similar way; and at

some hour or other guests asked their footmen for their shoes and

cloaks, and departed to their homes under the escort of attendants,

who carried the torches or lanterns and were ready to deal with

possible footpads and garroters, if any were lurking in the unlighted

streets for pedestrians less wary or less protected. The "Mohawks"

also will let them alone, and perhaps their homeward way may be

entertained by the sounds of serenaders at the door of some beautiful

Chloe or Lydia on the Upper Sacred Way or near the Subura.

It is not, however, to be supposed that every evening meal, even of a

noble, took the form of a dinner-party. It is indeed probable that

there were few occasions upon which, while in town, he was not either

entertaining visitors or being himself entertained. Occasionally there

would be an invitation to dine at Court, where perhaps eighty or a

hundred guests of both sexes, distributed in different sets of nine or

seven over the wide banquet-hall, would eat off gold plate, and be

entertained from three or four o'clock till midnight with all the

unbridled extravagance that a Petronius or some other "arbiter of

taste" might devise for the Caesar. The snob of the period set an

enormous value upon this distinction. The emperor could not always

review his list of invitations, nor could he on every occasion be

personally acquainted with every guest. It was therefore quite

possible for his servants now and then to smuggle in a person

ambitious of having dined at the palace. Under Caligula a rich

provincial once paid nearly L2000 for such an "invitation." When the

emperor found it out, he was, if anything, rather flattered; the next

day he caused some worthless trifle to be sold to the same man for the

same amount, and on the strength of this acquaintance invited him to

dinner, this time pocketing the money for himself.

Yet there must have been no few evenings upon which Silius preferred

the company of an intimate friend or two, making all together the

"number of the graces," and dined with less form and ceremony. At such

times the meal would be of comparatively short duration, and there

would be deeper and more intimate matter of conversation. Now and then

the dinner would be purely domestic; and, after it, Silius would

perhaps pass an hour or two in reading, or in listening to the slave

who was his professional "reader." If he was himself an author, as an

astonishing number of his contemporaries actually were, he might spend

the time in preparing a speech, composing some non-committal epic or

drama, jotting down memoranda for a history, or concocting an epigram

or satire to embody his humorous fancies or to relieve his

exasperation. If, as was often the case, he kept in the house a

salaried Greek philosopher--in a large measure the analogue of the

domestic chaplain of the later seventeenth century--he might enjoy his

conversation and pick his brains; or, if a man of real earnestness of

purpose, discuss with him the tenets of his particular philosophy,

Stoic, Epicurean, or Eclectic. This was the nearest approach which the

ancient Roman made to what we should call theological or religious

argument.

On other days a patron would naturally entertain a number of his

clients at dinner, and on no occasion would he be better able to show

how much or how little he was a gentleman in the modern sense of the

term. It is not merely from the satirist that we learn how

discourteous the Roman grandee might be at his own table if he chose.

It was no uncommon thing for a patron to set before these humbler

guests dishes or portions of dishes markedly inferior to those which

were offered to himself and to any aristocrat whom he had placed near

him. In this sense the client was often made to feel very distinctly

that he was "sitting below the salt." While the mellowest Setine or

Falernian wine was poured into the patron's own jewelled goblet of

gold or silver or crystal, his client might be drinking from thick

glass or earthenware the poorer stuff grown on the Sabine Hills. The

fish presented to Silius and his "brother" noble might be a choice

turbot, and the bird might be pheasant, while Proculus the client must

be content with pike from the Tiber and the common barndoor fowl. The

later satirist Juvenal presents us with inimitable pictures of the

hungry dependants at the table of their "king," waiting "bread in

hand" (like the sword drawn for the fray) to see what fortune would

send them. On the other hand there were, of course, patrons who made

no such distinctions. The younger Pliny, who was himself a gentleman

almost in the modern sense--if we overlook a too frequent tendency to

contemplate his own undeniable virtues--writes a letter to a young

friend in the following terms: "I need not go into details as to how I

came to be dining with a person with whom I am by no means intimate.

In his own eyes he combined elegance with economy; in mine he combined

meanness with extravagance. The dishes set before himself and a few

others were of the choicest; those supplied to the rest were poor

scraps. There was the same difference in his wine, which was of three

kinds. The intention was not to offer a choice, but to prevent the

right of refusing. One kind was for himself and us; another for his

less important friends (for his friends are graded); another for his

and our freedmen. My next neighbour noticed this, and asked me if I

approved of it. I said 'No!' 'Well,' said he, 'what is your own

practice?' 'I treat every one alike, for I invite people to a dinner,

not to an insult, and when they share my table I let them share

everything.' 'Your freedmen as well?' 'Yes, at such times I regard

them as guests, not as freedmen.' At this he said, 'It costs you a

good deal?' 'Not at all.' 'How can that be?' 'Because it is not a case

of their drinking the same wine as I do, but of my drinking the same

wine as they do.'" The letter is perhaps nearly half a century later

than our chosen period, but there is no reason to think that manners

had undergone any great change in the interval.

CHAPTER XIV

LIFE IN THE MIDDLE AND LOWER CLASSES

Silius was a noble, with a nobleman's privileges and also his

limitations. The class next in rank below his consisted of the

"knights," of whom something has already been said. It will be

remembered that these men of the "narrow stripe" were the higher

middle class, who conducted most of the greater financial enterprises

of Rome and the provinces. While the senatorial order could govern the

important provinces, command legions, possess large estates, and

derive revenues from them, but could make money in other ways only

through the more or less concealed agency of knights or their own

freedmen, the knights were free to act as bankers, money-lenders,

tax-farmers, and merchants or contractors in a large way, and to take

charge of such third-rate provinces as the Caesar might think fit to

entrust to them. Money-lending at Rome was an extremely profitable

business. Not only was the nobleman often extravagant in his tastes,

but when once elected to a public position he was practically

compelled to spend money lavishly in giving shows and exhibitions of

the kind which will be described immediately, or upon some public

building, or otherwise. In consequence he often incurred heavy debts.

Meanwhile the smaller traders and agriculturists, who were in

competition with slave-labour and other false economic conditions, to

say nothing of bad seasons, were frequently in the hands of the

usurers. Though efforts were repeatedly made to check exorbitant rates

of interest, they were apparently quite as ineffectual as with us. An

almost standard charge was at the rate of one-twelfth of the loan, or

8-1/3 per cent, but another common rate was that of one per cent per

month. Rates both higher and lower are known to us from particular

cases. Naturally the question depended on the security, when it did

not depend upon the greed of the one side and the ignorance of the

other. Much, however, of what the books call money-lending was only

what we should consider legitimate banking. Be this as it may, the

knights made large fortunes from the practice. They were also the

tax-farmers, who operated in the case of those imposts which were

still left indirect. The practice was to make an estimate of the

amount of such a tax derivable from a province, to purchase it from

the government at as large a margin of profit as possible, and so

relieve the state of the trouble and cost of collecting it. For this

purpose "companies" were formed, with what we should call a "legal

manager" at Rome. The managers would bid at auction for the tax, pay

the purchase-money into the treasury, and proceed to get in the tax

through local managers and agents in the provinces concerned. It has

already been explained that the more important taxation of the empire

was at this date direct--a community in Gaul, Spain, Asia Minor, or

Syria knowing what its assessment was, taking its own measures, and

using its own native or local collectors. The knights at Rome might

still advance sums to such communities, but they were not in this case

tax-farmers. It is unfortunate that the word "publicans"--bracketed

with "sinners"--is used in the New Testament translation for the local

collectors like St. Matthew. Not only does the word convey either no

notion or a wholly incongruous one to the ordinary reader, but it is

apt to mislead those who know its origin. Because the financial

companies at Rome, in purchasing the taxes, were taking up a public

contract, they were called _publicani_. But it is not these men who

were themselves acting as petty collectors--in any case they had

nothing to do with the native collectors appointed by the

communities--and it is not these who enjoyed an immediate association

with "sinners." The fact is that the Latin word applied to the great

tax-farming companies, who were acting for Rome, was afterwards

transferred to even the smallest collecting agent with opportunities

for extortion and harshness.

The stratum of Roman society below the knights was extremely

composite. The slaves, of course, are not included. They have no right

to the Roman "toga," nor may they even wear the conical Roman cap,

except at the Saturnalia, when everything is deliberately topsy-turvy.

Omitting these, we may roughly divide the rest, as the Romans

themselves divided them, into "people" and "rabble." The rabble are

either persons without regular occupation, or _lazzaroni_, sheer

idlers, loafers, and beggars. Doubtless many of them would execute an

errand or carry a parcel for a small copper, otherwise they would be

found hanging about the public squares, lounging on the steps or in

the precincts of public buildings, such as temples, basilicas,

porticoes, and baths, and playing at what the Italians call _morra_--a

more clever and tricky species of "How many fingers do I hold up?"--or

at "Heads or Tails." The poor of ancient Rome, like those of modern

Italy, could subsist on very plain and simple food. Water, with a dash

of wine when it could be got--and apparently at this date wine cost

less than a penny a quart--and porridge or bread, however coarse,

would suffice, so long as there were amusements, sunshine, and no need

to work. Every considerable city of the empire round the Mediterranean

would doubtless contain its proportion of such "lewd fellows of the

baser sort," but it was naturally the imperial city that contained by

far the most. Rome was by no means the only city in which doles of

free corn were made and free spectacular exhibitions given. But in

other places the distributions were occasional and depended on the

bounty of local men of wealth or ambition, whereas at Rome the dole

was regular, and the spectacles frequent and splendid. Rome was the

capital, and the abode of the emperor. It claimed the privileges of

the Mistress City, including the enjoyment of the surplus revenues.

Policy also demanded that the rabble should be kept quiet by "bread

and games."

It is for these reasons that the names of some 200,000 citizens stood

upon a list to receive each month an allowance of corn--apparently

between six and seven bushels--at the expense of the imperial

treasury. This quantity they took away and made into bread as best

they could. In many cases doubtless they sold it to the bakers and

others. It must be added that, apart from the free distribution, the

imperial stores contained quantities of grain which could always be

purchased at a low rate. Occasionally a dole of money was added; in

one case Nero gave over L2 per man. Meanwhile there was water in

abundance to be had for nothing, brought by the carefully kept

aqueducts into numerous fountains conveniently placed throughout the

city. While, however, we must recognise that the number of idlers was

very large, we must be careful not to exaggerate. It is absurd to

assume, as some have done, that because 200,000 citizens are receiving

free corn there are 200,000 unemployed. The Roman emperors never

intended to put a premium on laziness, but only to deal with poverty.

In order to receive your dole of corn it was not necessary to show

that you were starving, but only that you were entitled, or in other

words, on the list. It is also a mistake to think that any chance

arrival among the Roman _olla podrida_ could claim his bushel and a

half of corn a week. In any case only Roman citizens could

participate. All the poorest workers, whether actually employed or

not, could take their corn with the rest. Nor must we forget that

among the unemployed there were a considerable number who were, for

one reason or another, only temporarily out of work. Nevertheless, it

requires no study of political economy to know, nor were Roman

statesmen blind to see, that the best way to make men cease to work is

to show them that they can live, however shabbily, without. The really

surprising thing is perhaps that the Roman government, with its

immense funds and resources, stopped short where it did. An unsound

economic system had brought about difficult conditions, with which the

emperors and their advisers dealt as best they could.

It was inevitable that among so numerous a pampered rabble, and so

many impoverished aliens who tried their fortunes in the capital,

there should be beggars in considerable numbers. We cannot tell

precisely how many they were. You might find them on the bridges,

where they marked, as it were, a "stand" for themselves and crouched

on a mat, or at the gates, or wherever carriages must proceed slowly

on the highroads near the city, as for instance up the slope of the

Appian Way as it passed over the south-western spur of the Alban

Hills. Other towns would be infested in the same manner. Nor were

thieves and footpads wanting in the streets or highwaymen upon the

roads, especially in the lonelier parts near the marshes between Rome

and the Bay of Naples. The city was, indeed, liberally policed, but

Roman streets, as we have seen, were for the most part narrow,

crooked, and unlighted at night. As usual, it was the comparatively

poor who suffered from the street robber; the rich, with their torches

and retinue, could always protect themselves.

After the "rabble" we will take the "people" in the sense current at

this date. We must begin by adjusting our notions somewhat. The Romans

made no such clear distinction as we do between trades and

professions. To perform work for others and to receive pay for it is

to be a hireling. Painters, sculptors, physicians, surgeons, and

auctioneers are but more highly paid and more pleasantly engaged

hirelings. Only so far do they differ from sign-painters, masons,

undertakers, or criers. No doubt the theory broke down somewhat in

practice, yet such is the theory. That which in our day constitutes a

"liberal" profession--a previous liberal education and a high code of

professional etiquette--can hardly be said to have existed in the case

of corresponding professions at Rome. If the liberality departs from

our own professional education and the etiquette is relaxed, we shall

presumably revert to the same state of things. A surgeon was commonly

a "sawbones," and a physician a compounder and prescriber of more or

less empirical drugs. Their knowledge and skill were by no means

contemptible, and their instruments and pharmacopoeia were

surprisingly modern. Among the Greeks and Orientals their social

standing was high, but at Rome, where they were chiefly foreigners,

for the most part Greeks, the old aristocratic exclusiveness kept them

in comparatively humble estimation, however large might be their fees

in the more important cases. Something will be said later as to the

state of science and knowledge in the Roman world. For the present it

is sufficient to note that artist, medical man, attorney,

schoolmaster, and clerk belong theoretically to the common "people,"

along with butchers, bakers, carpenters, and potters.

[Illustration: FIG. 69.--SURGICAL INSTRUMENTS. (Pompeii.)]

Setting aside the aristocratic and wealthy classes on the one hand,

and the pauperised class on the other, we have lying between them the

workers, whether native Romans or the emancipated slaves, who are now

citizens known as "freedmen." To these we must add the rather shabby

genteel persons whom we have already described as "clients." Among

workers are found men and women of all the callings most familiar to

ourselves, with one exception. They do not include domestic servants.

Romans who could afford regular servants kept slaves. It 18 true that

occasionally one of the poorer citizens, even a soldier on furlough,

might perform some menial task connected with a household, such as

hewing wood or carrying burdens; but such services were regarded as

"servile." With this exception there is scarcely an occupation in

which Roman citizens did not engage. In such work they often had to

compete with slave-labour. It is probable, doubtless, that the greater

proportion of the slave body were employed as domestic servants. But

many others tilled the lands of the larger proprietors. Others

laboured under the contractors who constructed the public works.

Others were used as assistants in shops and factories. It is obvious

that such competition reduced the field of free labour, when it did

not close it entirely, and the free labour must have been unduly

cheapened. But to suppose that all the Roman work, whether in town or

country, was done by slaves is to be grossly in the wrong. Romans were

to be found acting as ploughmen and herdsmen, workers in vineyards,

carpenters, masons, potters, shoemakers, tanners, bakers, butchers,

fullers, metal-workers, glass-workers, clothiers, greengrocers,

shopkeepers of all kinds. There were Roman porters, carters, and

wharf-labourers, as well as Roman confectioners and sausage-sellers.

To these private occupations must be added many positions in the lower

public or civil service. There was, for example, abundant call for

attendants of the magistrates, criers, messengers, and clerks.

Unfortunately our information concerning all this class is very

inadequate. The Roman writers--historians, philosophers, rhetoricians,

and poets--have extremely little to say about the humble persons who

apparently did nothing to make history or thought. They are mentioned

but incidentally, and generally without interest, if not with some

contempt, except where a poet is choosing to glorify the simple life

and therefore turns his gaze on the frugal peasantry, who doubtless

did, in sober fact, retain most of the sturdy old Roman spirit. About

the soldiers we know much, and not a little about the schoolmasters.

The connection of the one occupation with history and of the other

with authors will account for this fact. Something will be said of the

army and also of the schools in their special places. Keepers of inns

are not rarely in evidence in the literature of satire and epigram,

and no language seems too contemptuous for their alleged dishonesty.

But of inns enough has been said. We learn that the booksellers

made money out of the works of which they caused their slaves to

make copies, and which they sold in "well got up" style for four

shillings, or, in the case of slender volumes, for as little as

fourpence-halfpenny. But to this day we do not know how much profit an

author drew from the bookseller, or how it was determined, or whether

he drew any at all. It is most reasonable to suppose that he sold a

book straight out to the publisher for what he could get. Otherwise it

is hard to see how any check could be kept upon the sales. The only

occupation upon which literature offers us systematic information is

agriculture, including the pasturing of cattle and the culture of the

vine. For the rest we derive more knowledge from the excavations of

Pompeii than from any other source. From actual shops and their

contents, from pictures illustrating contemporary life, and from

inscriptions and advertisements, we are enabled to reconstruct some

picture of commercial and industrial operations. We can see the

fuller, the baker, the goldsmith, the wine-seller, and the

wreath-maker at their work. We can discern something of the retail

trade in the Forum; or we can see the auctioneer making up his

accounts.

[Illustration: FIG. 70.--BAKER'S MILLS. (Pompeii.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 71.--CUPIDS AS GOLDSMITHS. (Wall Painting.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 72.--GARLAND-MAKERS.]

[Illustration: FIG. 73.--BUST OF CAECILIUS JUCUNDUS.]

The baker, for example, was his own miller. There are still standing

the mills, with the upper stone--a hollow cylinder with a pinched

waist--capable of revolving upon the under stone and letting the flour

drop into the rim below. Into the holes in the middle of the upper or

"donkey" stone, and across the top, were fixed wooden bars, which were

either pushed by men or drawn by asses yoked to them. The oven is

still in place, and, charred as they are, we are quite familiar with

the round flat loaves shaped and divided like a large "cross" bun. The

dough was kneaded by a vertical shaft with arms revolving in a

receptacle, from the sides of which other arms projected inwards, so

that there was little room for the dough to be squeezed between them.

We have pictures of the fuller, to whom the woollen garments--the

togas and tunics, and the mantles of the women--were regularly sent to

be washed by treading in vats, to be beaten, stretched, and bleached

with sulphur, and to have their naps raised with a comb or a bunch of

thorns. The goldsmith is depicted at his furnace or his anvil. The

garland-makers are at work fastening the blossoms or petals on a

ribbon or a tough strip of lime-bark. Dealers in other goods are

showing the results of their labour to customers, who carefully

examine them by eye, touch, and smell. The tablets containing the

receipts for sales and rents still exist as they were found in the

house of the shrewd-looking Jucundus the auctioneer. They formally

acknowledge the receipt of such-and-such sums realised at an auction,

"minus commission," although unfortunately they do not happen to tell

us how much the commission was. We see the venders of wine filling the

jars for customers from the large wine-skin in the waggon. In

conclusion to this subject it should be observed that all manner of

descriptive signs were in use; and just as one may still see a

barber's pole or a gilt boot in front of a shop, or a painted sign at

a public-house, so one might see the representation of a goat at the

door of a milk-vender, or of an eagle or elephant at the door of an

inn.

[Illustration: FIG. 74.--PLOUGH. (Primitive and later forms.)]

Meanwhile out in the country we can perceive the farm, with its hedges

of quick-set, its stone walls, or its bank and ditch. The rather

primitive plough--though not always so primitive as it was a

generation or so ago in Italy--is being drawn by oxen, while, for the

rest, there are in use nearly all the implements which were employed

before the quite modern invention of machinery. It may be remarked at

this point that the rotation of crops was well understood and

regularly practised. Then there are the pasturelands, on the plains in

the winter, but in summer on the hills, to which the herdsmen drive

their cattle along certain drove-roads till they reach the unfenced

domains belonging to the state. There they form a camp of huts or

wigwams under a "head man," and surround their charges with strong

fierce dogs, whose business it is to protect them, not only from

thieves, but also from the wolves which were then common on the

Apennines--where, indeed, bears also were to be met. There was no want

of occupation in the country in the time of haymaking, of the vintage,

or of olive-picking. Even the city unemployed could gather a bunch of

grapes or pick an olive, just as they can with us, or just as the

London hop-picker can take a holiday and earn a little money in Kent.

In the vineyards, where the vines commonly trailed upon low elms and

other trees, various vegetables grew between the rows, as they still

do about Vesuvius; on the hills were olive-groves, which cost almost

nothing to keep in order, and which supplied the "butter" and the

lamp-oil of the Mediterranean world.

[Illustration: FIG. 75.--TOOLS ON TOMB.]

We need not waste much compassion upon the life of the Roman working

class. It is true that there was then no doctrine of the "dignity of

labour," but that there was reasonable pride taken in a trade

reputably maintained is seen from the frequent appearance of its tools

upon a tombstone. In respect of the mere enjoyment of life, the

labourers, of the Roman world were, so far as we can gather, tolerably

happy. They had abundant holidays, mostly of religious origin; but,

like our own, so frequently added to, and so far diverted from

religious thoughts, that they were more marked by jollity and sport

than by any solemnity of spirit. The workmen of a particular calling

formed their guilds, "city companies," or clubs, in the interests of

their trade and for mutual benefit. There was a guild of bakers, a

guild of goldworkers, and a guild of anything and everything else.

Each guild had its special deity--such as Vesta, the fire-goddess, for

the bakers, and Minerva, the goddess of wool-work, for the

fullers--and it held an annual festival in honour of such patrons,

marching through the streets with regalia and flag. Doubtless the

members of a guild acted in concert for the regulation of prices,

although the Roman government took care that these clubs should be

non-political, and would speedily suppress a strike if it seriously

interfered with the public convenience. The ostensible excuse for a

guild, and apparently the only one theoretically accepted by the

imperial government, was the excuse of a common worship. It is at

least certain that the emperors jealously watched the formation of any

new union, and that they would promptly abolish any which appeared to

have secret understandings and aims, or to act in contravention of the

law. In the towns which possessed local government the municipal

authorities were still elected by the people; and the guilds,

especially of shopkeepers, could and did play their parts in

determining the election of a candidate. The elections might make a

difference to them in those ways in which modern town-councillors and

mayors, may influence the rates, the conditions of the streets, the

rules of traffic, and so forth. There are sixteen hundred election

notices painted, in red and black about the walls of Pompeii, and we

find So-and-So recommended by such-and-such a trade as being a "good

man," or "an honest young man," or a person who will "keep an eye on

the public purse." It is amusing to note that, in satirical parody of

such appeals as "the fruitsellers recommend So-and-So," we find that

"the petty thieves recommend So-and-So," or we get the opinion of "the

sleepers one and all." Special objects connected with these and other

associations were the provision of "widows' funds," and of proper

burial for the members. Of the importance of the latter to the ancient

world we shall speak when we come to a funeral and the religious ideas

connected with it.

The most difficult task in dealing with antiquity is to visualise the

actual life as it was lived. In the life of the humbler citizens the

remains of Pompeii lend more help than anything else to the desired

sense of reality, but they are the remains of Pompeii, not of Rome.

Nevertheless there are many points in which we may fairly argue from

the little town to the larger, and it is customary to adopt this

course.

[Illustration: FIG. 76.--POMPEIAN COOK-SHOP.]

We may, therefore, think of the common people among these ancients as

very much alive in their frank curiosity, their broad humour, their

love of shows, and their keen enthusiasm for the competitions, their

interest in petty local elections, their advertising instincts, their

insatiable fondness for scribbling on walls and pillars, whether in

paint or with a "style," a sort of small stiletto with which they

commonly wrote on tablets. The ancient world becomes very near when we

read, side by side with the election notices, a line from Virgil or

Ovid scrawled in a moment of idleness, or a piece of abuse of a

neighbouring and rival town--such as "bad luck to the Nucerians"--or a

pretty sentiment, such as "no one is a gentleman who has not been in

love," or an advertisement to the effect that there are "To let, from

July 1, shops with their upper floors, a flat for a gentleman, and a

house: apply to Prinus, slave of So-and-So"; or "Found wandering, a

mare with packsaddle, apply, etc."--the latter, by the way, painted on

a tomb.

[Illustration: FIG. 77.--IN A WINE-SHOP.]

For places of social resort there were the baths, the colonnades, the

semicircular public seats, the steps of public buildings, the shops,

and the eating-houses and taverns. The middle classes, in the absence

of the modern clubs, met to gossip at the barber's, the bookseller's,

or the doctor's. Those of a humbler grade would often betake

themselves to the establishments corresponding to the modern Italian

_osterie_, where were to be obtained wine with hot or cold water and

also cooked food. As they sat on their stools in these "greasy and

smoky" haunts they might be compelled, says the satirist, to mix with

"sailors, thieves, runaway slaves, and the executioner," but even men

of higher standing were often not unwilling to seek low pleasures amid

such surroundings, especially when, as was frequently the case, there

was provision for secret dicing beyond the observation of the police.

From literature, meanwhile, we may fill in their vivacious language,

the courteous terms the people apply to each other, such as "you ass,

pig, monkey, cuckoo, chump, blockhead, fungus," or, on the other side,

"my honey, my heart, my dove, my life, my sparrowkin, my dainty

cheese." But to go more fully into matters like these would carry us

too far afield.

We will end this topic with a last look at the ordinary free workman,

who wears no toga, but simply a girt-up tunic, a pair of boots, and a

conical cap, and who goes home to his plain fare of bread, porridge,

lentil soup, goats'-milk cheese, "broad" and "French" beans, beetroot,

leeks, salted or smoked bacon, sausages, and black-pudding, which he

will eat off earthenware or a wooden trencher, and wash down with

cheap but not unwholesome wine mixed with water. He has no pipe to

smoke; he has never heard of tea, coffee, or spirits. He may have been

told that certain remote barbarians drink beer, and he may know of a

thing called butter, but he would not touch it so long as he can get

olive-oil. However humble his home, he will endeavour to own a silver

salt-cellar, and to keep it as an heirloom.

CHAPTER XV

HOLIDAYS AND AMUSEMENTS: THEATRE, CIRCUS, AMPHITHEATRE

These topics bring us naturally to the consideration of the chief

amusements and entertainments of Rome and of those parts of the empire

which were either fairly romanized or else contained a large number of

resident Romans.

Holidays, some of them lasting over several days, were at this date

liberally spread throughout the year. Most of them belonged to fixed

dates, others were festivals specially proclaimed for victories or

other causes of rejoicing. We may estimate their average number at

Rome itself at about a hundred. At first sight this might indicate an

astonishing waste of time and the prevalence of enormous indolence.

But we must remember that the Romans had no such thing as Sunday. Our

own Sundays and the weekly half-holidays make together seventy-eight

days, and if to these we add the holidays at Christmas, Easter, and

other Bank and public "closings," we shall find that our annual breaks

in the working year are not very far from the Roman total, however

differently they may be distributed. The difference between us and

them lies rather in the way in which the holidays were employed.

Originally the holidays did not imply any giving of shows and games in

the way of chariot-races, gladiatorial combats, and the like. They

were simply festivals of deities--of Flora, the goddess of flowers,

Ceres, the goddess of crops, Apollo the god of light and healing, and

other divinities--honoured by sacrifices, processions, and feasts. The

feast of Saturn, for example, was at first held for only one day.

Later it was extended over five and then over seven days, exactly as

our Christmas celebrations--which are a Christian adaptation of

it--tend virtually to spread over longer and longer periods. At this

winter festival of the Saturnalia there was an interchange of

presents--such as confectionery, game, articles of clothing,

writing-tablets--and a general outburst of goodwill and merriment. For

one day the slaves were allowed to put on the freeman's cap, the "cap

of liberty," and to pretend to be the masters. This is the source of

the mediaeval monkish custom of permitting one annual day of

"misrule." Meanwhile the citizen threw off the toga and clad himself

in colours as he chose. He played at dice publicly and with impunity.

The cry of "Hurrah for the Saturnalia!" was heard everywhere. Later it

became customary to hold public shows on these days, and the emperors

gave gladiatorial games and acrobatic or dramatic entertainments, at

which there were scrambled various objects, articles of food, coins or

tickets entitling the holder to some gift which might be valuable,

valueless, or comical. Similarly there was a holiday on New Year's

Day, when presents were again interchanged, regularly including a

small piece of money "for good luck." The gifts on this day frequently

bore the inscription "a Happy and Prosperous New Year to you."

Presents at all times played a prominent part in Roman etiquette and

sociality. Not only were they given at holidays but also at all

important domestic events. Even at a dinner-party, besides actual

articles of food to be carried home, there were frequently gifts of a

kind either expressly adapted to the recipient, or else drawn by a

humorous lottery. Among numerous other articles of which one might be

the recipient in various seasons and circumstances, there are

mentioned books, pictures, tablets of ivory, wood, or parchment,

cushions, mufflers, hats, hoods, sponges, soap, rings, flasks,

baskets, musical instruments, balls, pens, lamps, tooth-picks, dice,

money-boxes, satchels, parrots, magpies, and monkeys. On the Ides of

March the poorer classes made their way to the Campus Martius beside

the river, built themselves arbours or wigwams of boughs, and spent

the day and evening in riotous song and jollity.

In general, however, the parts of these festivals to which the people

looked forward with liveliest anticipation were those public

entertainments, commonly known as "the games" or "sports," which were

provided for them free of cost. The expense was theoretically borne by

the state--whether from the exchequer of the emperor or from that of

the senate and the state did indeed spend as much as six or eight

thousand pounds upon a particular celebration. But, both in Rome

itself and in the provinces, it was practically obligatory that the

public officer who had charge of a given festival for the year should

spend liberally of his own upon it. No man either at Rome or in a

provincial city could permit himself to be elected to such a public

position unless he was prepared to disburse a sum perhaps as large as

the subvention given by the state. The more he gave, particularly if

he introduced some striking or amusing addition to the ordinary shows,

the more popular he became for the time being. In the Roman world you

must pay for your ambitions, and this was the most approved way of

paying. We might moralise over the enormous frivolity which could

waste day after day thousands and thousands of pounds upon such

transitory pleasures, instead of conferring lasting benefits in the

way of hospitals or schools. But it is not the object of this book to

moralise. We may feel confident that the Roman populace, if offered

the choice, would have voted for the chariot-races or the gladiators,

not for the college or the hospital.

[Illustration: FIG. 78: BOXING-GLOVES.]

The entertainments provided were of several kinds, by no means equally

popular. There were plays in the theatres; there were contests of

running, wrestling, boxing, throwing of spears and disks, and other

"events," corresponding to our athletic sports; there were

chariot-races in the Circus, answering to our horse-races at Epsom or

Newmarket; and there were spectacles in the amphitheatre, to which,

happily, we have no modern parallel. These included huntings and

baitings of animals, fights with wild beasts--performances far more

dangerous than those of the Spanish bull-ring--and, above all, the

combats of the gladiators or professional "swordsmen." So far as there

exists a later analogue to the last it is to be found in the more

chivalrous tourney in the lists, but the resemblance is not very

close. Least valued among the real Romans were the athletic sports.

For genuine enjoyment of these we must look to the Greek part of the

empire. At Rome they appeared tame, for the mind of the Roman populace

was naturally coarse in grain; what it delighted in was something

sensationally acrobatic, or provocative of a rather gross laughter, or

else involving a thrilling anticipation of danger and bloodshed. In

taste the Romans were in fact similar to those modern spectators who

love to see a man plunge from a lofty trapeze into a narrow tank, with

a reasonable chance of breaking his neck. It is a strange

contradiction with other Roman attitudes when we find that they

objected to the Greek wrestling or running on grounds of decorum,

because it was innocently nude. On the athletic sports, although they

were never wanting in the "games" at Rome, we need not therefore

dwell. It may be sufficient to show by an illustration what sort of

notion the ancient world entertained of interesting pugilism. It is

only fair to say that the "boxing-gloves" here given--thongs of

leather wrapped tightly round the arm and hand, and loaded or studded

with lead or iron--were a notion borrowed from the professional

pugilists of Greece.

[Illustration: FIG. 80.--THEATRE AT ASPENDUS.]

Next lowest in esteem stood the plays given on the theatrical stage.

Mention has been made in a previous chapter of the three great

theatres of Rome, one of them said, though somewhat incredibly, to be

capable of holding 40,000 spectators. Their shape and arrangement have

already been hinted at. Huge structures of a similar kind existed in

all the great romanized towns of Italy and other provinces. One at

Orange in France is still well preserved, and two of smaller

dimensions--one without a roof for plays, and one roofed for musical

performances--are among the most easily remembered of the remains

extant at Pompeii. In the Grecian half of the empire the theatres were

not essentially different, the chief distinguishing feature being

that, while the Roman auditorium formed half a circle, that of the

Greek type formed over two-thirds. In the Roman type the level

semicircle in front of the stage, from which we derive the name

"orchestra," was occupied by the chairs of the senators, and the

fourteen tiers of stone seats immediately behind them by the knights;

certain sections were also set apart for special classes, one being

for soldiers, one for boys not yet of age, and one for women, whose

presence was not encouraged, and who, except at the tragedies, would

have shown more modesty by staying away. Facing the seats is a stage,

higher than among the Greeks, but somewhat lower than it is commonly

made in modern times; and at the back of the stage is a wall

architecturally adorned to represent a house or "palace" front, and

containing one central and two side doors, which served for separate

purposes conventionally understood. Over the stage is a roof, which

slopes backward to join the wall. The entrances to the ordinary tiers

of seats are from openings reached by stairs from the outside arcade

surrounding the building; those to the level "orchestra" are from

right and left by passages under an archway, which supports a private

box for the presiding official. The two boxes are approached from the

stage, and when the emperor is present he is seated in the one to the

spectators' left. Round the top of the building, inside above the

seats, runs a covered walk, which serves as a lounge and a _foyer_.

Over the heads of the spectators a coloured awning--dark-red or

dark-blue by preference--may be stretched on masts or poles; when no

awning is provided, or when it cannot be used because the wind is too

strong, the spectator is permitted to wear a broad-brimmed hat, if he

finds one desirable for his comfort. The whole building must be

thought of as lined and seated with marble, gilded in parts, and

decorated with pillars and statues.

The curtain, instead of being pulled up, as with us, when the play

begins is pulled down, falling into a groove in the stage. Where we

should say the "curtain is up" the Romans would say exactly the

reverse, "the curtain is lowered." For plays in which the palace-front

was not appropriate, scenery was employed to cover it, being painted

on canvas or on boards which could be pulled aside; other scenes were

stretched on frames, which could be made to revolve so as to present

various faces.

The actors, however much admired for their art, and however

influential in irregular ways, were looked upon as in a degraded

position, and no Roman who valued social regard would adopt this line

of life. Among the Greeks and such Orientals as were under Greek

influence no such stigma rested upon the profession, and therefore

many of the chief actors of the imperial city had received their

training in this more liberal-minded part of the Roman world. The rest

were mostly slaves or ex-slaves. If a Roman of any standing took part,

it was either because he was a ruined man, or else because the emperor

had capriciously ordered him to undergo this humiliation.

[Illustration: FIG. 81.--TRAGIC ACTOR.]

The plays themselves were certainly of no great merit from a

constructive or literary point of view. We hear a good deal nowadays

of the "decline of the drama," but perhaps in no civilised country has

it declined so far as it had descended in Rome by the year A.D. 64.

The regular and classical drama--that is to say, literary tragedy and

comedy--was not likely to appeal to any ordinary Roman gathering. The

philosopher Seneca indeed wrote tragedies in imitation of the Greek,

but they were intended for the reader and the library, and there is

little probability that they were ever performed, or even offered to

the stage. Tragedies were, it is true, represented, but they were

mostly Greek, and the performance was in the Greek style. The heroic

actors wore masks, covering not only the face but the whole head,

which they raised considerably in height. About the body fell long and

trailing robes of splendid material and colour, and on the feet were

thick-soled boots which increased the height by several inches. The

comedian played in low shoes or slippers; and "boot" and "slipper"

were therefore terms in common vogue to distinguish the two kinds of

theatrical entertainment. Of Pliny's two favourite country-houses on

Lake Como one was called "Tragedy" as standing high, the other

"Comedy" because on a lower site beside the water. The whole effect

sought in the heroic play was the grandiose, and no attempt was made

to reproduce the actualities of life. In the accompanying illustration

will be seen the tragic hero as he appeared upon the Roman stage. In

considering this somewhat amazing apparition it must be remembered

that at Rome, as in Greece, the theatre was huge, effective

opera-glasses were not known, and subtle changes of facial expression

would have passed unnoticed. The make-up of the actor, like the

painting of the scenes, was compelled to depend upon broad effects.

With its love of the false heroic, of rhetorical bombast, of sumptuous

dress, magnificent scenes, and gorgeous accessories in the way of

"supers" and processions, the Roman tragic drama of this period must

have borne a striking resemblance to the corresponding English pieces

of the Restoration or age of Dryden. Perhaps the most popular part of

the performance was the music and dancing, whether by individual

actors or as ballets, accompanied by the flageolet, the lyre, or the

cymbals.

In comedy there was apparently no originality. As in the oldest days

of their drama the Romans had copied the Greeks, so they copied them

still. We may believe that the acting was often excellent; especially

in respect of intonation and gesture, but little can be said for the

play, whether from the point of view of literature or of morals. Since

verbal description must necessarily be of little force, it will serve

better to present here a few specimens of comic masks and a scene from

comedy:

[Illustration: FIG. 82.--COMIC MASKS.]

[Illustration: FIG. 83.--SCENE FROM COMEDY.]

Much more in demand were theatrical performances of a lower kind.

These were farces, interludes, character-pieces, and dumb-shows known

as "pantomimes." The farce was a loosely constructed form of

fooling comedy, containing much of the ready Italian improvisation or

"gag," and regularly introducing the four stock characters which have

lasted with little disguise for so many centuries There was an old

"grandfather," the forerunner of the modern pantaloon; a cunning

sharper; a garrulous glutton with a fat face (known as "Chops"); and

an amorous Simple Simon. Sometimes types of foreigners or provincials

were introduced, with caricatures of their dress and language, after

the manner, and probably with the veracity, of the stage Scotchman,

Irishman, or Frenchman. All these parts were played in masks.

The interlude again was a slight piece with very little plot, and

composed in a large measure of buffoonery, practical jokes, hitting

and slapping, and dancing. Topical allusions and contemporary

caricatures were freely introduced, and the whole performance, however

coarsely amusing, was both vulgar and indecent. In these pieces no

masks were worn and also no shoes, and the women's parts--taken in the

other instances by men and boys--were actually played by females,

whose posture-dances were no credit to their sex.

The dumb-shows or "pantomimes" were performances in which expressive

and elaborate gestures and movements were left to tell the whole tale.

For this kind of piece the actors naturally required not only uncommon

cleverness but also great suppleness of body. As usual, these

qualities, together with the qualities of voice, the magnificent

dress, and the carefully cultivated long hair, won for the actor

demoralising influence over too large a number of the more

impressionable and untrammelled Roman dames.

Meanwhile the huge audience must not be conceived as sitting in quiet

and restrained attention, but as roaring with laughter, applauding and

stamping, shouting approval and encores, hissing and waving

handkerchiefs. And meanwhile the _claqueurs_ will have been duly

distributed by those interested in the success of the performance.

Every now and then a fine rain of saffron perfume is shed over the

audience from pipes and jets distributed round the building. It

deserves remark also that in the theatre, as in the other places of

amusement, the gathering frequently broke out into demonstrations of

its feeling towards persons and politics. There was safety in numbers,

and the applause or hissing which greeted a personage or a topical

allusion--or a line which could be twisted into such--could hardly be

laid to the account of any individual. A certain license was conceded

and fully utilised at the festivals: it served as a safety-valve, and

wise emperors apparently so regarded it. At Rome the government was

indeed "despotism tempered by epigram," but it was no less tempered by

these demonstrations at the games and spectacles.

More worthy of imperial Rome were the exhibitions of chariot-races

held in the immense Circus Maximus. That building, already described,

would at this date probably hold some 200,000 persons, but it could

never provide room enough for the excited people, who not only

gathered in multitudes from Rome itself, but also from all the

country, even all the empire, within reach. For weeks the chances of

the parties have been discussed and betted upon; even the schoolboys

have talked chariots, chariot-drivers, and horses. The fortune-tellers

have been consulted about them; dreamers have dreamed the winners; and

many an underhand attempt, sometimes including the hocussing of men or

horses, has been made to corrupt the sport. The struggle is in reality

not between chariot and chariot, but between what we should call

stable and stable. There are four parties--the white, red, green, and

blue--whose drivers will wear the respective colours, in which also

the chariots were probably painted. By some means the green and blue

have at this date contrived to stand out beyond the others, and the

chief interest commonly centres upon these.

The day of the great spectacle arrives. Outside the building and in

the porticoes surrounding it the sellers of books of the races and of

cushions are plying their trade along with venders of confectionery

and perfumes. The people are streaming into the numerous entrances

which lead by stairways to the particular blocks or tiers of seats in

which they are entitled to sit, and for which they bear a ticket. Full

citizens are wearing the toga, or, if the emperor has not forbidden

the practice, the brightly coloured cloak which has been already

described. Seats are reserved for officials, senators, knights, and

Vestal Virgins; and on the side under the Palatine is a large

balcony-box for the emperor and his suite. At these games women have

no special place set apart for them; they sit in their richest land

showiest attire among the general body of the spectators, and flirting

and love-making are part of the order of the day. A very crude form of

field-glass or "spy-glass" was already in use, apparently consisting

generally of a mere hollow tube, but occasionally provided with a

magnifying lens. Nero himself, in consequence of his short-sight, had

a "glass" in some way contrived of emerald.

At one end of the Circus is a building containing a curved line of

stalls, equidistant from the starting-point, in which the drivers hold

their chariots in readiness. These are all barred, and only at the

signal will the doors be thrown open. The horses are commonly

three-year-olds or five-year-olds. In some races there are two horses

to the chariot, in others four. Less commonly there are three or six,

or even a greater number. In the year 64 the number of cars running

will be four, one for each club. How many races there are to be, and

in what variety, will depend upon the presiding officer, who, as has

been said, is paying a considerable portion of the expenses, and who

will receive or lose applause according to the entertainment he

affords to the spectators. Commonly there will be about twenty races

run, although occasionally even that number be increased.

Down the middle of the arena, though not quite in its axis, runs a low

broad wall called the "backbone," bearing various sculptures along its

summit and in the middle an obelisk, now standing in the Piazza del

Popolo, which Augustus had brought from Egypt after his conquest of

that country. On the extremities of the "backbone" are placed the

figures of seven dolphins and seven large eggs, and just free of each

end, on a base of their own, stand three tall cones coated with gilt,

round which the chariots are to turn as a yacht turns round the buoy.

Seven times will the chariots race down the arena, round the end of

the backbone, and back again. At each lap a dolphin and an egg will be

removed from the wall, and as the last disappears the winning driver

makes straight on for the white line which serves as the winning-post.

[Illustration: FIG. 84.--PLAN OF CIRCUS.]

But they have not yet started. At the fixed hour a procession starts

from the Capitol, descends by the temple of Saturn and past the face

of the Basilica Julia, turns along the "Tuscan Street," and enters the

Circus under a large archway in the middle of the building which

contains the stalls. In front go a body of musicians with blare of the

straight Roman trumpet and the scream of the flageolets; behind these

comes the high official who has charge of the particular festival. He

is mounted high on a chariot, and is clothed in a toga embroidered

with gold and a tunic figured with golden palm-branches: in his hand

he carries an ivory sceptre, and over his head is held a crown of

gold-leaf. Behind the chariot is collected a retinue in festal array.

The competing chariots follow; after these are the effigies of

deities, borne on platforms or on vehicles to which are attached

richly caparisoned horses, mules, or elephants; in attendance upon

them are the connected priestly bodies. As this procession passes

round the Circus the spectators rise from their seats, roar their

acclamations, and wave their handkerchiefs. When it has made the

circuit, its members retire to their places, and the chariots are shut

in their stalls. Soon the president takes his stand in his box, lifts

a large handkerchief or napkin, and drops it. Immediately the bolts of

the barriers are withdrawn, and the chariots dash forward towards the

point marked A. The drivers, clothed in a close sleeveless tunic and

wearing a skull-cap, all of their particular colour, lean forward over

their steeds, and encourage them with whips and shouting. At their

waists you will see the reins gathered to a girdle, at which also

hangs a knife, in readiness to cut them away in case of accident. The

chariot is a low and shallow vehicle of wood covered with ornament and

as light as it can well be made, and it requires no little skill for

the charioteer to maintain his footing while controlling his team.

Down the straight they rush, each endeavouring to gain an advantage at

the turn, where the left rein is pulled, and the left horse--the pick

of the team--is brought as closely round the end of the wall as skill

and prudence can contrive. It is chiefly, though by no means only,

here that the accidents occur, and that the chariots lose their

balance and collide with each other, or strike against the end of the

wall and are over-thrown. How readily collision might happen may be

seen from the following diagram, where the courses of two chariots, A

and B, are indicated.

[Illustration: FIG. 85.--THE TURN IN THE CIRCUS.]

Sometimes the teams get out of hand and general disaster may result.

Round and round they go, the spectators yelling in their excitement

for the blue or the green, the red or the white, and making or

revising their bets. "Too far out!" "Well turned!" "The green wins!"

"Well done, Hirpinus!" Shouts like these form a roar to which perhaps

we have no modern parallel. One by one the eggs and dolphins disappear

from the wall; the chariots are reduced in number; the four or five

miles are completed; and an enormous shout goes up for the winner,

whose name--of man and horse and colour--will be for days in

everybody's mouth. For his reward he will not only obtain the honour

of the palm-branch; he will receive presents in money, gold and silver

wreaths, clothes, and various articles of value. Socially he may be

but a slave or a person in base esteem; the occupation, however

reputable in the Greek portion of the empire, is not for a free-born

Roman; nevertheless, like the jockey who wins the Derby, he is the

hero of the moment.

[Illustration: FIG. 86--CHARIOT-RACE.]

Race follows race, with an interval for the midday meal. During that

time there will be interludes of acrobatic and other performances. One

rider, for example, will stand upright on the back of two or more

horses, and will spring continually from one to the other while they

are at the gallop. Most of the company will take their refreshments

where they are. When a man of some standing was reproached by Augustus

for this rather undignified proceeding, he replied: "That is all very

well for you, Sire, but your place is sure to be kept." We need not

proceed further into details concerning the "events" in the Circus. It

may however be worth while to add that the Romans cared nothing for

the modern form of race by jockeys on single horses.

The Circus is quite a different thing from the oval amphitheatre, a

structure for once of native Roman devising, without which no Roman

town could consider itself complete. Though the Colosseum was not yet

built, there already existed an amphitheatre in the Campus Martius,

and such buildings were to be found in all considerable towns which

contained a large Roman element. There is one, though of later date

than Nero, still to be seen in fair preservation at Verona; the

well-known amphitheatre at Pompeii was in full use in the year 64, and

other cities--Capua, Puteoli, Nimes, Antioch, or Caesarea--were

provided with the joys of the gladiatorial shows and the beast-fight.

Only in the thoroughly Greek or thoroughly Oriental part of the empire

was the amphitheatre absent. Where there was no fixed building of

stone or wood, a temporary structure was erected and a company of

gladiators would perform in the place at the expense of some local

officer or of some wealthy citizen with social ambitions. Whatever may

be thought of the Greeks in other respects, they felt no liking, but

only an openly expressed repulsion, for the barbarous exhibitions of

bloodshed in which the Roman revelled. Outside Jerusalem an

amphitheatre was built by the romanizing Herod, but it was done to the

horror of all orthodox Jews.

[Illustration: FIG. 87.--AMPHITHEATRE AT POMPEII.]

[Illustration: FIG. 98--BARRACKS OF GLADIATORS (Pompeii.)]

The performances were of two main kinds; fights between men and

beasts--occasionally between two kinds of wild beast--and fights

between men and men. There was no make-believe about these combats;

they meant at least serious wounds, even when they did not mean death.

Those who fought with beasts might in some cases be volunteers; in

general they were captives or condemned criminals, and it perhaps

hardly needs pointing out that, when St. Paul says he had "fought with

beasts at Ephesus," he is merely speaking in metaphor adapted to the

times. It was not intended that the criminal should escape death, but

only that he should be able to make a fight for his life. Meanwhile

the gladiators who fought with men and not with beasts were in the

position of professionals, who might be slaves, condemned brigands,

mutineers, prisoners of war, or volunteers. The picture drawn by

Byron, although the so-called "Dying Gladiator" which inspired him is

in reality no gladiator but a Gaulish warrior, perhaps fairly

represents one class of combatant, but it represents only one. In the

case of these "swordsmen" a number of successful fights might in the

end secure freedom and something more for slave or prisoner, and a

competence for the volunteer. It was not unnatural that men of courage

and strength should frequently offer themselves for this service.

Their physical training was indeed severe both in the way of exercise

and of diet, and their personal treatment was harsh and ignominious;

but their fame, such as it might be, was wide, and their rewards often

solid. Contemporary writers also complain that, however brutal and

ugly they were, there were always women ready to adore them and to

consider them as beautiful as Adonis. At Pompeii a scribbling calls

one of them "the sigh of the girls." Nevertheless no Roman with much

self-respect, unless forced by a malignant emperor, would bear the

stigma of having appeared as a gladiator, any more than in modern

times one would choose to be known as a professional pugilist.

Moreover these same heroes, after their glorious day in the arena,

were carefully stripped of their showy armour, imprisoned in barracks,

and, if disobedient or troublesome, chastised with the lash and put in

irons or the stocks.

The prelude to a beast-fight was frequently rather a "hunt," amounting

to a demonstration of skill in dealing with wild animals which could

hardly be said to fight, but which were difficult to capture or kill.

Success with javelins or arrows required somewhat more skill and

daring than the "big game" shooting of modern times. To give a greater

air of naturalness to the performance the arena was sometimes

temporarily planted with shrubs and trees, and diversified with

rock-work. After the beast "hunt" came the beast "fight," which might

be against bisons or bulls, wild boars or wolves, lions or tigers, a

rhinoceros or an elephant. In such contests the man commonly wore no

body-armour. He took his sword or spear, swathed his right arm and his

legs, and went out to meet the enemy in his tunic. The beasts were

either let loose from the end of the arena, or, as later in the

Colosseum, they were brought up in cages from their underground dens

by means of lifts worked by pulleys. Indirectly, it may be observed,

the mania for this sport produced one distinctly beneficial result,

inasmuch as the more dangerous wild beasts became almost exterminated

from the Roman world. The number killed was enormous, hundreds of

lions or panthers being produced and slain during the shows of a

single festival. It may be added that on the top of the wall or

platform surrounding the arena there was placed--at least in the

Colosseum--a metal grating or screen, of which the top bar revolved,

so that if a wild beast managed to spring so high and take a grip, the

feat was of no use to him. To keep him at a further distance a trench

surrounded the arena and separated it from the platform.

[Illustration: FIG. 89.--STOCKS FOR GLADIATORS. (Remains from

Pompeii.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 90.--GLADIATORS FIGHTING.]

But the great entertainment of the amphitheatre was the combats of men

with men. After the beast-fights, which were held in the mornings, and

amounted in estimation to a matinee, there followed the fights of the

gladiators. Outside the building are being sold the books which

catalogue the pairings, together with some record of the men, the name

of their training-school, and a statement as to the weapons with which

they will fight and as to whether they have made previous appearances.

At the appointed time the procession enters from one end of the arena,

and the combatants parade and salute the emperor, if he is present, or

the presiding officer. Their weapons are examined, and there is a

preliminary sham-fight, partly for exhibition of skill and to

influence bets, partly for practice. The men then return to their

places, a trumpet blows, and a pair commences the real fighting.

Sometimes a man is in full and heavy armour from head to foot;

sometimes he is lightly equipped with a half-shield and a spear;

sometimes he carries only a sharp three-pronged spear and a

casting-net, in which he endeavours to enmesh an enemy fully armed.

Besides combats on foot, there may be fights upon horseback, or even

in chariots of the kind then best known in Britain. To encourage the

participants, and to lend more spirit to the scene, there is a blowing

of horns and trumpets while the fight proceeds. All around the people

are shouting their comments and their advice; they applaud and adjure

and curse. "Get up to him!" "Kill him!" and the like are heard on

every side. A man falls, not dead, but disabled, and the spectators

shout "He has it." He holds up his finger in sign of defeat, but he

utters no cry. Shall he be killed, or shall he not? The answer depends

on the president or "giver" of the exhibition. He looks round, and if

he perceives that the great majority are giving an upward flick of the

thumb, and hears them call "Give him the steel!" the man is doomed;

if, on the contrary, handkerchiefs are waved, his life is spared. A

good fight or a good record may save him to fight again another day.

The formal presentation of a wooden sword would mean that he was

discharged for life from the necessity of further fighting. If his

enemy's dagger must be pressed into his throat, or if he has been

slain outright, there is a passage under the middle of the side of the

amphitheatre through which the body will be dragged by a hook into the

mortuary. Another combat follows between another pair--sometimes

between two sides--and should the arena become too sodden with blood,

it is raked over and fresh sand is scattered.

It is amazing in what a cold-blooded manner all this was carried out.

When one reads the notices written up at Pompeii, that on

such-and-such a date there will be exhibited so many pairs of

gladiators, that "there will be a beast-hunt," and that "awnings will

be provided and perfume sprinkled," it is difficult at first to

realise that it means all that it does mean. To the credit of the

Romans--so far as they deserve any at all--let it be stated that the

presence of women was not encouraged at these shows; that if they

appeared at all, it must be in the upper tier, as far as possible from

the arena; and, strangely enough, that only the six Vestals, in virtue

of their religious claims, could be placed in any position of honour.

These sat upon the lowest platform, in line with the special seats of

the emperor or president and the highest officials of the state, but

it is probably a libel for an artist to depict them as so many Maenads

lusting for the blood of the vanquished.

The only other form of public entertainment which it seems desirable

to mention was that of a naval battle, in which the sea was either

represented by flooding the amphitheatre, or by means of a permanent

lake, such as that which Augustus created artificially across the

Tiber. The proceedings bore all the appearance of reality. Ships were

rammed, sunk, overturned, and boarded, and, so far as the men were

concerned, the battle might be as grim and bloody as any other kind of

gladiatorial contest.

CHAPTER XVI

THE WOMEN: MARRIAGE, THE ROMAN MATRON, AND HER DRESS

We will assume that Silius is a married man, and that his wife is a

typical Roman dame worthy of his station in life. Her name shall be

Marcia, or, if she possesses more than one, Marcia Sabina. Marriage

does not confer upon her the name of her husband, and if she requires

further identification in connection with him, she will be referred to

as "Silius's Marcia." At an earlier date a woman owned but a single

name, but already practical convenience and pride of descent had

combined to make it desirable that she should bear a second, which

might be taken from the family either of her father or of her mother.

Thus if Silius and Marcia themselves have a daughter, she may in her

turn perhaps be called Silia Bassa, perhaps Silia Marcia.

If now we proceed to describe the position of Marcia in her conjugal

and family relations, to speak of her way of life, and to suggest her

probable character, it must be understood that the description would

by no means necessarily fit every Roman matron. Women are said to be

infinitely various, and in this respect the ancient world was

precisely like the modern. And not only has it further to be borne in

mind that there were several strata of Roman society, and that city

life differed widely from country life; there was also an actual

difference in the legal position of a wife, according to the terms

upon which she had chosen to enter the state of wedlock. In other

words, there were two forms of matrimony. According to the

old-fashioned style a wife passed into the power of the husband; her

legal position--though not, of course, her domestic standing--was the

same as that of his daughter. Once on a time he had even possessed the

right of putting her to death, but at our date that privilege no

longer existed. It was enough that she should be subject to his

authority. In that position she managed the home and family, and often

managed him as well. How far this time-honoured style of marriage was

still maintained among the lower classes of Roman society it is

impossible to tell; our information is almost entirely restricted to

the higher, or at least the wealthier, orders. It is, however,

probable that among the artisans and labourers, where the dowry of a

wife cannot have amounted to anything very considerable, this more

stringent state of matrimony was the rule. Paterfamilias was the head

and lord of the house, while materfamilias held in practice much the

same position as she did in Anglo-Saxon households of two or three

generations ago.

Meanwhile among the upper classes, but in no way legally limited to

them, an alternative and easier form of marriage had become

increasingly popular. It was one which gave to both parties the

greatest amount of freedom of which a conjugal union could reasonably

allow. The woman did not pass into the power of the man, and, short of

actual infidelity, she lived her own life in her own way, although

naturally conforming to certain recognised etiquette as a partner in a

respectable Roman _menage_. If neither affection nor moral suasion

could preserve harmony or proper courses, either party might formally

repudiate the contract, and, after a short interval, seek better

fortune in some other quarter. There was, of course, a public

sentiment to be considered; there was family influence; there was the

characteristic Roman pride; there was often a fair measure of mutual

esteem and even affection; and there were obvious joint interests

which made for stability; but beyond these considerations there was

nothing to hamper the inclination of either husband or wife. Yet it is

a grave mistake to imagine, because there was much, and sometimes

appalling, looseness of life under a Nero, that the race of noble and

virtuous Roman matrons--the Cornelias and Valerias and Volumnias--was

extinct; and it is equally a mistake to suppose that Rome no longer

produced its honourable gentlemen filled with a sense of their

responsibilities to family and state. The satirist should not here,

nor elsewhere, be our chief, much less our only, guide. The England of

Charles II is not to be judged in its entirety by the comedies of the

time nor by the _Memoirs_ of Grammont. On this matter, however, it

will be more convenient to touch in a later paragraph. It will be best

to deal first with the system in vogue, and then to consider the sort

of woman whom it produced.

It cannot be denied that at this date, though marriage was regarded as

the normal and proper condition for men and women who desired to do

their duty by the state, and though the wise emperors did everything

in their power to encourage it, a very large proportion of the men of

the upper classes regarded it as a burden and a vexatious interference

with their liberty. It was not necessarily that they had any desire to

be vicious, nor indeed would marriage be much of a hindrance to vice;

it was that they desired to be free. The cause of their disinclination

was the same as it is sometimes alleged to be now--the increasing

demands of women, their increasing unwillingness to bear the natural

responsibilities of matrimony, their extravagant expectations, and the

impossibility of there being two masters in one house claiming equal

authority. But whereas we recognise that love is a possible adjuster

of all the difficulties, it was no tradition of the Romans that

marriage should be based on love. With them it very seldom began with

love, or even with direct personal choice, but was in most instances

entirely a _mariage de convenance_ and arranged for them as such. Even

after marriage we are told by a contemporary writer that the proper

feeling for a man to entertain for his wife is rational respect, not

emotional affection. Experience has shown that the result was too

often unsatisfactory.

It is unfortunate that the only satires or criticisms on married life

which have come down to us were written by men; one would like to hear

what the women might have said, if a woman had ever been a satirist.

There is nearly always some basis of truth in a classic satire, but

the question is "How much?" Juvenal belongs to a later generation than

that of Nero, but what he says is doubtless equally applicable to that

age. It is therefore interesting to note one or two of his objections

to contemporary woman, regarded as a wife. In the first place she is

too interfering and even dictatorial. "What madness is it," he asks of

the man whom he supposes himself to be addressing, "that drives you to

marry? How can you bear with a tyrannous woman, when there are so many

good ropes in the world, when there are high windows to throw yourself

out of, or when there is the bridge quite handy?" "Why should you be

made to wear the muzzle?" "Why take into your house some one who will

perhaps shut the door in the face of an old friend whom you have known

ever since he was a boy?" "When you displease her, she weeps, for she

keeps tears always ready to fall, but when you try to prevent her from

displeasing you, she tells you it was agreed that each should have

liberty, and that she is a human being." He goes on to attack her

faithlessness, her extravagance, her superstition, her loquacity, and

so forth. Let us by all means discount his fierce invectives;

nevertheless we must take them as but a heightened way of putting

circumstances which had a real and all too frequent existence, and

which encouraged the growing fancy for bachelordom. We shall, however,

soon look at a very different picture of domestic relations, and it is

only fair to assume that these also were by no means uncommon.

A Roman girl with a reasonable dowry might expect to be married at any

age from about 13 to 18. The Italian of the south, like the Greek,

ripens early. The legal age was 12; on the other hand to be unmarried

at 19 was to be distinctly an old maid. In the northern provinces of

the empire maturity was less early, whereas south of the Mediterranean

it was even earlier. The legal age for the bridegroom was that at

which his father or guardian allowed him to put on the "toga of the

man" and enter the Forum. Thus theoretically a Roman youth might

become a benedict when about sixteen, and Nero was only at that age

when he married his first wife Octavia. Generally speaking, however,

if Marcia was as old as 16, Silius would hardly be under 26 or 27.

The marriage, as has been said already, would commonly be a matter of

arrangement between families, sometimes effected by their own members,

sometimes by an interested friend or some other go-between. "You ask

me," writes Pliny to Mauricus, "to look out for a husband for your

niece. There is no need to look far, for I know a man who might seem

to have been provided on purpose. His name is Minicius. He is

well-connected, and comes from Brescia, which you know to be a good

old-fashioned place retaining the simple and modest manners of the

country. He is a man of active energy and has held high public office.

In appearance he is a gentleman, well-built, and with a wholesome

ruddy complexion. His father has ample means, and though perhaps your

family is not much concerned on that point, we have to remember that a

man's income is one of the first considerations in the eyes, not only

of our social system, but of the law."

A marriage of the full and regular type could only be contracted

between free citizens. There were varying degrees of the morganatic

about all others, such as marriage with a foreigner or emancipated

slave. A non-Roman wife meant that the children were non-Roman. A man

of the senatorial order could not marry a freedwoman, if he wished to

have the union recognised; also no complete marriage could be

contracted with a person labouring under degradation publicly

inflicted by the authorities or degraded _ipso facto_ by certain

occupations. For this reason the actress on the "variety" stage could

not aspire to become even an acknowledged Roman wife, much less a

member of the order which more or less corresponded to our peerage.

Nor could a Roman marry a relative within certain prohibited degrees.

He might not, in fact, marry any woman whom he already possessed what

was called "the right to kiss."

We are, however, dealing with two persons entirely beyond exception,

namely Quintus Silius Bassus and Marcia Sabina. A match has been made

between these parties, perhaps several years before the actual

marriage can take place, and while the intended bride is a mere child

of ten: even the future groom may be but a boy. When the go-between

has done his or her work to the satisfaction of both families, there

takes place a betrothal ceremony, of which the original purpose was,

of course, to bind each party morally to carry out the contract, but

which, by the year 64, might mean very little.

In theory the Roman law required the consent of both participants; a

father could not absolutely force son or daughter to marry a

particular person, nor, indeed, any person at all. But on the other

hand, according to the Roman law, neither sons nor daughters were free

to act independently of the father's will, nor to possess independent

property, so long as the father lived, or until he chose to

"emancipate." It naturally follows that paternal pressure was the

chief factor in determining a marriage, and only those men or women

whose fathers were dead, or who had been formally freed from tutelage,

were in a position absolutely to please themselves. We need not

suppose either that sons were always very amenable, or that parents

were invariably self-willed and autocratic, but it is obvious that

marriages based on mutual attraction must have been extremely few. We

will suppose that Silius is his own master, while Marcia has a father

or a guardian still alive.

At the betrothal ceremony the friends of both houses are in

attendance, a regular form of words is interchanged between Silius and

the father of Marcia, a ring is given by the man to his _fiancee_, to

be worn on the fourth finger of her left hand, and he adds some other

present, most probably some form of that jewellery of which the Roman

women were and still are so extraordinarily fond. A feast naturally

follows.

You would think this performance sufficiently binding, and binding no

doubt it was from a moral point of view, so long as there was

reasonably good behaviour on either side, or so long as neither Silius

nor Marcia's father was prepared wantonly to flout general opinion or

to offend a whole connection by simply changing his mind. On the other

hand, there was no legal compulsion whatever to carry out the

contract. The Roman world knew nothing of actions for breach of

promise. If either party chose to repudiate the engagement, they were

free so to do. In that case they were said to "send back a refusal" or

to "send a counter-notice." A family dispute, a breath of suspicion, a

change of circumstances, and even an improved prospect might be

sufficient excuse, or no excuse need be offered at all.

In the present instance, however, no such ugly missive passes between

the house of Silius on the Caelian Hill and that of Marcius on the

Aventine, the wedding takes place in due course. It will not be in May

nor in early March or June, nor on certain other dates which, for

reasons mostly long forgotten, were regarded as inauspicious. It is a

social ceremony, and neither state nor priest will have anything to do

with sanctioning or blessing it. The pillars at the sides of the

vestibules of both houses are wreathed with leaves and boughs, and the

friends and clients of both families proceed in festal array to the

house of the bride. If Marcia is very young she has taken her

playthings--dolls and the like--and has dedicated them to the

household gods as a sign that she now puts away childish things and

devotes herself to the serious tasks of life. She has then been

carefully dressed for the occasion. Her hair, however she may have

worn it before or may wear it afterwards, is for to-day made up into

six plaits or braids, which are wound into a coil on the top of her

head. As an initial rite it is parted by means of an instrument

resembling a spear, a survival of the time when a bride was a prize of

war, and when her long locks were actually divided by a veritable

spear in token of her subjection. Round this coiffure is placed a

bridal wreath, made of flowers which she must have gathered with her

own hands, and over her head is thrown a veil--more strictly a

cloth--of some orange-yellow or "flame-coloured" material, which does

not, however, like the Grecian or Oriental veil, conceal her face. On

her feet are low yellow shoes. Meanwhile the bridegroom arrives,

escorted by his friends, and he also wears a festal garland. As with

all other important undertakings of Roman life, a professional seer

will be in attendance to take care that the auspices are favourable.

Peculiar portents, very unpropitious behaviour of nature, a very

strange appearance in the entrails of a sacrificial victim, are omens

which no properly constituted Roman can afford to overlook. The

auspices being favourable--and there is reason to believe that no

undue insistence was laid on their unpropitious aspects--the bride is

led into the reception-hall, and the contract of marriage is signed

and sealed. That there should be a dowry, and a considerable one, goes

without saying. In some cases it is actually settled on the husband,

who is to all intents and purposes purchased by it; but in most it is

available for his use only so long as the marriage continues unbroken.

For the rest, the wife's property is and remains her own. Her guardian

is still her father and not her husband: her legal connection is still

with her own family and not with his. She is a Marcia and not a Silia.

If the marriage is dissolved, at least without sufficient demonstrable

provocation on her part, her father will see that her dower is paid

back. To such terms as these the parties affix their names and seals,

and a certain number of friends add their signatures as witnesses.

This done, one of the younger married women present takes the bride

and leads her across to Silius who holds her right hand in his. Both

repeat a prescribed formula of words, and all the company present

exclaims "Good luck to you!" and offers such other congratulations as

seem fit. A wedding-dinner is held, generally, but not necessarily, in

the house of the bride, and a wedding-cake, served upon bay-leaves, is

cut up and divided among the guests. It is now evening, and a

procession is formed to bring Marcia home to the house of Silius. In

front will march the torchbearers and what we should call "the band,"

consisting in these circumstances of a number of persons playing upon

the flageolet. Silius goes through a pretence of carrying off Marcia

by force--another practice reminiscent of the ancient time when men

won their brides by methods similar to those of the Australian

aborigine with his waddy. Both groom and bride are important people,

and along the streets there is many a decoration; many a window and

doorway is filled with spectators; shouts, not always of the most

discreet, are heard from all sides, and loud above all rings the

regular _Io Talasse_--whatever that may have meant, for no man now

knows, and almost certainly no one knew then. In the midst of the

procession Marcia, followed by bearers of her spindle and distaff, is

being led by two pretty boys, while a third carries a torch; Silius

meanwhile is scattering nuts or walnuts, or _confetti_ made like them,

to the crowd. Arrived on the Caelian, the bride is once more seized

and lifted over the threshold; when inside the hall, Silius presents

her with fire and water in token of her common share in the household

and its belongings; and she offers prayers to various old-fashioned

goddesses who are supposed to preside over the introduction to married

life.

If we have given with some particularity the orthodox proceedings of a

fashionable wedding, it must again be remembered that not all weddings

were fashionable, and that one or other of these details might be

omitted as taste or circumstances required. Among the poorer folk

there must often have been practically no ceremony at all beyond the

"bringing home." And if there are certain items which appear to us

trivial and meaningless, it is probably unfamiliarity which breeds our

contempt. Perhaps a far-off generation may wonder how civilised folk

in the twentieth century could perform absurd antics with rice and

slippers.

Marcia is now what was known as a "matron." Her position is far more

free than it could ever have been in Greece or the Orient, more free

indeed than it would be in any civilised country at the present time.

The Romans had at all times placed the matron in a position of dignity

and responsibility, and to this is now added the greatest liberty of

action. Her husband salutes her in public as "Madam." Since he is a

senator, and it is beginning to be the vogue to call such men "The

Most Illustrious," she also shares that title in polite reference to

herself. She is not confined to any particular portion of the house,

nor, within the limits of decorum, is she excluded from masculine

company. She is the mistress of the establishment, controlling, not

only the female slaves, but also the males, in so far as they are

engaged in the work of the household. She keeps the keys of the

store-rooms. Theoretically at least she has been trained in all the

arts of the housekeeper, and thoroughly understands domestic

management, together with the weaving and spinning which her handmaids

are to perform. The merits of the wife, as summed up in the epitaphs

of the middle classes, are those of "good counsellor good manager, and

good worker in wool." She walks or is carried abroad at her pleasure,

attends the public games in the Circus, and goes with her husband to

dinner-parties, where she reclines at the meal just as he does. When

her tutelage is past she can take actions in the law-courts, or appear

as witness or surety. Her property is at her own disposal, and she

instructs her own agent or attorney. It is only necessary that she

should guard the honour of her husband. So long as he trusts her he

will not interfere. It is only a very tyrannical spouse who will

insist that her litter or sedan-chair shall have the curtains drawn

when in the streets. We will assume that Marcia is a lady of the true

Roman self-respect and dignity, and that Silius and she live a life of

reasonable harmony.

But though there were many such Marcias, there were other women of a

very different character. There is, for instance, Flavia, who has a

perfect frenzy for "manly" sports, and practises all manner of

athletic exercises, wrestling and fencing like any man, and perhaps

becoming infatuated and practically running away with some brawny but

hideous gladiator. She also indulges frankly in mixed bathing. There

is Domitia, who is too fond Of promenading in the colonnades and

temples, where a _cavaliere servente_, ostensibly her business

man--though he does not look like it--may regularly be seen carrying

her parasol. When at home, she neglects her attire and plasters her

face with dough in order to smooth out the wrinkles, so that she may

give to anybody but her own family the benefit of her beauty. There is

the ruinously extravagant Pollia, whose passion for jewels and fine

clothes runs her deeply into debt, for which, fortunately, her husband

is not responsible. There is Canidia, who is shrewdly suspected of

having poisoned more than one husband and who has either divorced or

been divorced by so many that she has had eight of them in five years,

and dates events by them instead of in the regular way by the

consulships: "Let me see. That was in the year in which I was married

to So-and-So." There is Asinia, whose selfishness is so great, and her

affection so frivolous, that she will weep over a sparrow and "let her

husband die to save her lap-dog's life." All these women are most

likely childless, and many a noble Roman house threatens to become

extinct.

There are others, again, whose foibles are more innocent. Baebia, for

example, is merely a victim to superstition. She is always consulting

the astrologers, the witches, and the dream-readers; she is devoted to

the mystic worship of the Egyptian Isis, with its secret rites of

purification, or she is a proselyte to the pestilent notions of the

Jews. She is too much under the influence of some squalid Oriental who

carries his pedlar's basket, or whose business is to buy broken glass

for sulphur matches Meanwhile Corellia is a blue-stocking, as bad as a

_precieuse_ with a _salon_. As soon as you sit down to table she

begins to quote Homer and Virgil and to compare their respective

merits. She cultivates bright conversation in both Greek and Latin,

and her tongue goes loudly and incessantly like a bell or gong. Her

poor husband is never permitted to indulge in an expression which is

not strictly grammatical. Worse still, she probably even writes little

poems of her own. She may keep a tame tutor in philosophy, but she

makes no scruple about interrupting his lesson on morals while she

writes a little billet-doux. Pomponia is an ambitious woman, whose

mania is to interfere in elections by bringing to bear upon the

senators what has been called in recent times the "duchesses'"

influence. If her husband becomes governor of a province, she will

endeavour to be the power behind the throne, and her meddling will in

any case prove harmful to the strict administration of justice.

The remedy in such cases was divorce. In the lower orders of society a

mild personal castigation was quite legal and probably not uncommon;

but then in these lower orders divorce was by no means so convenient.

Among the upper classes its frequency made it scarcely a matter of

remark. Nothing like it has been seen until modern America. There was

no need of an appeal to the courts or of a decree _nisi_; there was

not even need of a specific plea, although naturally one would be

offered in most cases. The husband or wife (or the wife's father, if

she had one), might send a formal and witnessed notice declaring the

marriage dissolved, or, as it was called, "breaking the marriage

lines." The man had only to take this step and say with due

deliberation "Take your own property"--or, as the satirist puts it,

"pack up your traps"--"give up the keys, and begone." The woman on her

side need only give similar notice and "take her departure." The only

check lay in family considerations, in public opinion, which was

extremely lenient, in financial convenience, or in the possibility of

particularly wanton conduct being so disapproved in high quarters that

a senator or a knight might perhaps find his name missing from the

list of his order at the next revision.

It has appeared necessary to give this darker side of the social

picture, for, though assuredly not so lurid as might be gathered from

the moralists, it was dark enough. For obvious reasons it is desirable

not to elaborate. It is perhaps more profitable, as well as

refreshing, to consider the brighter side. That there were noble women

and good wives, and that the froth and scum and dregs of idle

town-life did not make up the existence of the contemporary Roman

world, may be seen from passages like the following, which are either

quoted or condensed from a letter of Pliny concerning a lady named

Arria. The events belong to the reign of Nero's predecessor Claudius.

Pliny writes: "Her husband, Caecina Paetus, was ill; so also was her

son; and it was expected that both would die. The son, an extremely

handsome and modest youth, succumbed. His mother arranged for his

funeral and carried it out, the husband meanwhile being kept in

ignorance. Not only so, but every time she came into his room she

pretended that the son was alive and better, and very often, when he

asked how the boy was getting on, she answered, 'He has slept well,

and shown a good appetite.' Then, when the tears which she had so long

kept back proved too much for her, she used to leave the room and give

herself up to grief. When at last she had dried her eyes and composed

her countenance she returned to the room. When her husband had taken

part in an intended revolt against Claudius, he was to be carried as a

prisoner across the Adriatic to Rome. He was on the point of

embarking, when Arria begged the soldiers to take her on board with

him. 'I presume,' she said, 'you mean to allow an ex-consul a few

attendants of some kind, to give him his food, and to put on his

clothes and shoes. I will do all that myself.'" Her request being

refused, "she hired a fishing-smack and followed the big vessel in

this tiny one." When Claudius ordered the husband to put himself to

death, Arria took a dagger, stabbed herself in the breast, drew the

weapon out, and handed it to him with the words: "Paetus, it does not

hurt. It is what you are about to do that hurts."

Arria doubtless is a rare type of heroine. But also of the quiet

domesticated wife we have a description from the same writer.

Unfortunately the letter is one of the most priggish of all the rather

self-complacent epistles written by that thoroughly respectable and

estimable man; but that fact takes nothing from the information for

which we are looking. Pliny is writing to his own wife's aunt. "You

will be very glad to learn that Calpurnia is turning out worthy of her

father, of yourself, and of her grandfather. She has admirable sense

and is an excellent housekeeper; she is fond of me, which speaks well

for her character. Through her affection for me she has also developed

a taste for literature. She possesses my books and is always reading

them; she even learns them by heart. When I am to make a speech in

court, she is all anxiety; when I have made it, she is all joy. She

arranges a string of messengers to let her know what effect I produce,

what applause I win, and what result I have obtained. If I give a

reading, she sits in the next room behind a curtain and listens

greedily to the compliments paid to me. She even sets my verses to

music and sings them to the harp, with no professional to teach her,

but only love, who is the best of masters. I have therefore every

reason to hope that our harmony will not only last but grow greater

every day."

And all this time, away in the country homestead and cottage, the good

Marsian or Sabine mother is a veritable pattern of domestic probity

and discipline. If she possesses handmaids, she teaches them their

work in the kitchen or at the loom; if she possesses none, she brings

up her big daughters in the right ways of modesty, frugality, and

obedience to the gods; and her tall sons religiously obey her when she

sends them out to chop the firewood in the rain and cold of the

mountain-side.

One subject of perpetual interest where women are concerned is that of

dress and personal appearance. The Roman woman emphatically pursued

the cult of beauty and personal adornment. Perhaps the first prayer

which a mother offered for an expected daughter was that she should be

beautiful. Whether she proved so or not, no pains were spared to

correct or supplement the work of nature. It is true that fashion,

except in the dressing of hair, underwent none of those rapid and

astonishing changes which perplex the unsophisticated male of to-day.

Above all, there were no hats. But all that gold and jewels,

colours--blue, green, yellow, violet--and varied stuffs--woollen,

linen, muslin, and silk--could do for dress was done by every typical

woman of means; and every device for improving the complexion, the

teeth, the hair, the height, and the figure--which, by the way, never

sought the wasplike waist--was fully exploited. We need not go too

closely into details. It will be enough to describe the ordinary

attire and the ordinary methods of beautification.

[Illustration: FIG. 91.--TOILET SCENE. (Wall Painting.)]

The conventional indoor dress consisted of, first, an inner tunic,

short and sleeveless, with a band passing over or under the breast, so

as to produce something resembling what is called the Empire figure;

second, an outer tunic of linen or half-silk, less often of whole

silk, which fell to the feet. The outer tunic was fastened on the

shoulders with brooches; it had sleeves over the upper arm, and, in

the case of adults but not of young girls, a flounce or furbelow at

the bottom. A girdle produced a fold under the breast. The garment was

commonly white, but might be bordered with coloured fringes and

embroidery; for ladies of senatorial rank it bore the broad stripe

worked in purple or gold. On the feet sandals were often worn, but for

out-of-doors these were replaced by soft shoes of white, coloured or

gilded leather, sometimes studded with pearls or other gems.

[Illustration: FIG. 92.--WOMAN IN FULL DRESS.]

When a lady left the house she threw over the indoor dress a large

mantle or shawl, much resembling the toga of the men, except that its

colour was apparently what she pleased. This article was passed over

the left shoulder and under the right arm, which was left free; it

then fell in graceful folds to the feet. Works of art show that a fold

of the shawl was frequently laid over the top and back of the head,

for which no less becoming covering had yet been introduced.

[Illustration: FIG-93.--HAIRPINS.]

The hair alone was subject to innumerable vagaries either of fashion

or of individual taste. It might have a parting or no parting; it

might be plaited over the head and fastened by jewelled tortoise-shell

combs, or by pins of ivory, silver, or bronze with jewelled heads, as

varied and ornamental as the modern hatpin; it might be carried to the

back and rest in a knot on the neck, where it was bound with ribbons;

it might be piled into a huge pyramid or "towers of many stories," so

that a woman often looked tall in front and appeared quite a different

person at the back; it might be encased in a coloured cloth or in a

net of gold thread, for which poorer people substituted a bladder. But

in all cases it was preferred that the hair should be wavy, and this

was a matter which was attended to by a special _coiffeur_ kept among

the slaves. No handmaid had a harder or more ungrateful task than the

tiring-woman, who built up and fastened the reluctant locks while the

mistress contemplated the effect in her bronze or silver mirror. There

was no rule for a woman's treatment of herself in this respect.

"Consult your mirror," is the advice of the poet Ovid, who has

hopelessly lost all count of styles, since they were "more numerous

than the leaves on the oak or the bees on Hybla." To full dress

belonged a coronal or tiara, consisting of a band of gold and precious

stones.

But who shall dare to speak of the jewellery that bedecked a Roman

matron _en grande tenue_--of the pearl and pendant earrings, the

necklaces of pearl and diamonds, the gold snake armlets with their

emerald eyes, the bangles and finger-rings, the brooches and buckles

on the shoulders and down the sleeves, the gems scattered among the

hair, the chains and chatelaines strung with all manner of glittering

articles? Says one who lived at the time: "I have seen Lollia Paulina

covered with emeralds and pearls gleaming all over her head, hair,

ears, neck, and fingers to the value of over L300,000." If Rome is the

eternal city, it is eternal in this respect at least as much as in any

other.

Who, still more bold, shall pry into her apparatus for the

beautification of her person, examining her patch-box and the innocent

little pots of rouge, vermilion, and white lead for the complexion,

and of soot to rub under the eyes? Who shall scrutinise too closely

that delicate blue which tinges her temples? Who shall dare to

question whether that yellow hair of the most approved tone, then best

seen in Germany, grew where you find it or came from some head across

the Rhine? Who shall venture to ask whether that smooth skin was

preserved by her wearing last night a mask of meal, which she washed

off this morning with asses' milk? Petronius, indeed, says that the

"lady takes her eyebrows out of a little box," and probably Petronius

knew. For her artificial teeth there is an obvious and sensible

excuse, and it is no reproach to her if, as the poet declared, "she

puts her teeth aside at night, just as she does her silks." Probably

she scents herself far too heavily, but there are many Roman men who

are just as bad.

She is ready now for all emergencies, and we may leave her, sitting in

her long-backed cushioned chair, waving in one hand a fan of peacock's

feathers or of thin wood covered with gold-leaf, and holding in the

other a ball of amber or glass to keep her hands cool and dry.

CHAPTER XVII

CHILDREN AND EDUCATION

Unlike too many couples of the same class, Silius and Marcia are

blessed with children. We will assume that there are two, a boy, whose

full name shall be Publius Silius Bassus, and a girl, who is to be

called Silia Bassa. It is perhaps to be regretted that there is not a

third, for in that case the father would enjoy to the full certain

privileges granted by law to parents who so far do their duty by the

state. As it is, he will in the regular course of things receive

preference over childless men, when it comes to candidature for a

public office or to the allotting of a governorship. The decline in

the birthrate had become so startling at the close of the republic

that the first emperor, Augustus, had decided that it was necessary on

the one side to penalise persons who remained either unmarried or

childless, and on the other to grant fixed concessions to all who were

the parents of three. A bachelor could not, for instance, receive a

legacy from any one but a near relative; a married man without

children could only receive half of such a legacy; a man with three

children could not only enjoy his legacy in full, but could take the

shares forfeited by any bachelor or childless legatee who figured in

the same will. It does not appear that the law produced any great

effect, and, to make it still more futile, the later emperors began to

bestow what was called the "privilege of three children" on persons

who actually had either fewer or none at all.

The power of the father over the children is theoretically almost

absolute. Even when a son is grown up and married he legally belongs

to his father; so does all his supposed property. The same is the case

with a daughter, unless she becomes a Vestal Virgin, or unless she

marries according to the stricter of the two kinds of matrimony

already described. In the older days of Rome the father could, and

sometimes did, put his children to death if he chose. Though too free

an exercise of so extreme an authority was no longer recognised, it

was still quite legal to make away with an infant which was badly

deformed. Says Seneca, in the most matter-of-fact way, "We drown our

monstrosities." It was quite legal also to expose a child, and leave

it either to perish or to be taken up by whosoever chose. In most such

instances doubtless the child became the slave of the finder. Not only

was this allowable at Rome and in the romanized part of the empire; it

was a frequent practice throughout the Greek or Eastern portion.

Again, a father might sell his child as a slave, particularly for

continual disobedience. All these things the parent might legally do;

but it is extremely difficult to discover how far they were actually

done, inasmuch as our information in this respect hardly touches the

lower classes, while among the upper classes there was naturally far

less temptation to be rid of the burden of maintaining such few

children as most families produced. On the whole it appears highly

improbable that in the truly Roman part of the empire there was any

considerable destruction of infant life or exposure of infants. It

does not follow that, because the strict law does not prevent you from

doing a thing, you will therefore do it, in the face of public

disapproval and of all the promptings of natural affection. In their

family relations the ancient Romans possessed at least as much natural

feeling as is commonly shown in modern times. The fact is that in

matters of law the Romans were eminently conservative; they left as

much as possible to the silent working of social opinion. In the

oldest times the patriarchal system existed in the family, and new

Roman legislation interfered with parental power only just so far as

experience had loudly demanded such intervention. There can have been

no very pronounced abuse of the powers of the father, and, as the

discipline of the family was regarded as essential to the discipline

of the state, the law was always unwilling to weaken in any way the

hold of such family discipline. The strictly legal authority of the

father was therefore maintained, while its abusive exercise was

limited by the risk, if not the certainty, that it would meet with

both public and private censure.

Nevertheless, to return to the point which called for this

explanation, it is quite in the power of Silius to expose or sell

little Publius or little Silia. But for a man in his position to do

anything of the kind would bring the scorn of all Roman society about

his ears; and, among other humiliations, almost undoubtedly his name

would be expunged from the senatorial list. Moreover Silus, though a

pagan, is a human being, and his affection for his children would

certainly be no less warm than that of the average Christian man of

to-day.

Immediately after birth there is a little ceremony. The babe is

brought and laid upon the hearth or floor before the household gods

for the father to inspect it. As has been said already, if it is a

monstrosity, he may order it to be made away with. Otherwise it is

still open to him either to acknowledge the infant or to refuse to

have anything to do with it. The act of acknowledgment consists in

stooping down and lifting up the child from the ground. For this

reason the expression used for acknowledging and undertaking to rear a

child was "lifting" or "picking up." In our instance the little son

and daughter are, of course, not only picked up, but welcomed as the

young hopes of the proud house of Silii Bassi.

On the ninth day in case of the boy, or the eighth in that of the

girl, the child is named, after certain ceremonies of purification.

The whole proceeding bears much resemblance to a christening, except

that there is no calling in of the services of a church. The relations

and friends gather in the hall, each bringing his present, and even

the slaves make their little inexpensive offerings. The gifts are

chiefly little trinkets of gold, silver, and ivory--rings, miniature

hands, axes, swords, or crescents--which are to be strung across the

baby's breast. The original purpose of all these objects was to act as

charms against the blighting of the child by evil powers, or, more

definitely, by the "evil eye," that malignant influence which still

troubles so many good Italians, both ignorant and learned. With the

same intention the father hangs upon the child's neck a certain object

which it will carry till it comes of age. If a few years later you met

the boy Publius in the Roman streets, you would find him wearing a

round case or locket in gold, some two inches in diameter and

resembling the modern cased watch. Inside is shut his protecting

amulet. When he is sixteen and puts on the man's toga, his amulet will

be laid aside. In the case of the little Silia it will be worn until

she marries. Poorer folk, for whom gold is too expensive, will enclose

the amulet in a case of leather.

The naming over, the child is registered. The Romans were adepts in

the art of utilising a religious or superstitious practice for

purposes of state, and the development of the registration of births

and deaths is but one instance. In older times it had been a custom,

on the occasion of a birth, to pay a visit to the shrine of "Juno the

Birth-Goddess," and to leave a small coin by way of offering. It is

easy for a state to convert an already established general custom into

a rule; and at our date this shrine of Juno had become practically a

registration office, where a small fee was paid and the name of the

child entered upon the rolls.

We need not follow with any closeness the infancy of either boy or

girl till the seventh year. The ancient world was very much like the

modern. Suffice it to glance at them cutting their teeth on the teeth

of wolves or horses, rocked in cradles decorated with gold and purple,

or running about and calling their parents by the time-honoured

_mamma, tata_--words, if we can call them words, which came from those

small Roman mouths precisely as they have come from time immemorial

from so many others. Their slave nurse, who is a Greek and talks Greek

to them, tells them the old wives' tales and fables. They play with

rattles, balls, and little carts, with pet birds and monkeys, and the

girl with dolls of ivory or wax or of painted terra-cotta. They have

swings, and ride on sticks and build houses. When bigger, the boy has

his tops and hoops, with or without bells, and he plays marbles with

nuts. Meanwhile attempts are made, somewhat after the kindergarten

pattern, to teach them their alphabet by means of letters shaped in

wood or ivory. Whether or not it is modern kindergarten method to

tempt children to learn by offers of sugar-plums, that course was

often adopted in the world of both Greece and Rome.

On the whole the life of the child, though strictly governed, appears

to have been pleasant enough until schooldays began. Though many

children were taught at home by a more or less learned slave acting as

private tutor, the great majority, at least of the boys, were sent to

school. There was at this date no compulsory education; the state

dictated nothing and provided nothing in connection with the matter;

many children must have received no education at all, and many only

the barest elements. Nevertheless the average parent realised the

practical utility of at least reading, writing, and simple arithmetic,

and schools of the elementary type sprang up according to the demand.

What the higher education was like will be set forth in its place.

The ideal education, as understood in the older days of Rome, was a

training which should fit a man for his duty to the gods, the state,

and the family. It was above all things a moral and practical

training. A man has certain domestic, political, and religious

functions to perform: let him learn how best to perform these. Under

this system there was little room for accomplishments or for purely

intellectual pursuits. Little by little, however, such liberal

elements, artistic and philosophical, struggled into the sphere of

Roman education, but never to the extent or with the intellectual

effect which belonged to them in Greece. Even by A.D. 64 the education

of a Roman boy was very narrow, and, in the direction in which it

sought some liberality, it often went sadly astray. The clearest

course will be for us to take young Publius Silius through a course

typical of the time. We will assume that he does not receive all his

lessons at home, but that, through an old-fashioned preference on the

part of his father, he goes to a school, along with boys who are

mostly but not necessarily of the same social standing with himself.

We have unfortunately almost no information as to any social grading

of schools, or as to their size. All we know is that some schools were

taught entirely by one man, while others employed an undermaster or

several. In some cases the school is entirely a private enterprise,

the master charging a monthly fee--amounting in the elementary schools

to a penny or twopence a week--together with small money presents on

certain festivals. The more select establishments naturally charged

more. Probably most of the schools in Rome and the larger towns were

upon this private footing. In other instances a number of parents in a

smaller town would club together and subscribe sufficient money to

provide the salary of a schoolmaster for their children. In yet others

some benefactor, generally a wealthy local magnate, had given or

bequeathed an endowment fund, from which a school was either wholly or

partially financed. At a rather later date Pliny writes a letter, of

which the following is a passage, interesting in this connection.

"When I was lately in my native part of the country (that is to say,

at Como), a boy--the son of a fellow townsman--came to pay his

respects. I said, 'Are you at school?' 'Yes,' he replied. 'Where?' 'At

Milan.' 'And why not here?' At this his father said, 'Because we have

no teachers here.' 'And why have you none? It is of the greatest

importance to any of you who are fathers--and it happened that several

fathers were listening--that your children should be taught here

rather than anywhere else.... How small a thing it is to put money

together and engage teachers and to apply to their salary the amount

which you now spend on lodgings, travelling expenses, and the articles

that have always to be purchased when one is away from home.'"

Whereupon he proceeds himself to offer to contribute one-third of

whatever sum the parents collect. He does not believe in giving the

whole, because experience has taught him that endowments of this kind

are commonly misused. The parents must themselves retain an interest

in preventing corruption; and this will be the case so long as they

are themselves paying their share. In this instance we are, however,

to think rather of a high school or school of rhetoric than of the

primary school. Como would not lack a primary school, nor would

parents send very young children to lodge in Milan. There is no trace

of real boarding-schools.

To whatever school Publius goes he will be accompanied by a sedate

slave, generally elderly and also generally a Greek, whom you may call

his "guardian," or his "governor," or his "mentor," according to your

fancy. The function of this worthy is to look after the morals and

behaviour of the boy when in the streets, and also to supervise his

manners when at home. Publius will not be free of this incubus until

the day when he puts on the adult's toga; and he must be prepared to

accept, at least in his younger days, not only scolding, but also

corporal punishment from him. In poorer families the mother corrected

her children with a slipper. The "guardian" of Publius is nevertheless

a slave, and will carry the young master's books and school requisites

for him, while the sons of poorer parents are marching along, freer

and happier, with their tablets and writing-case slung over their left

arm. When, in the New Testament, we are told that the "Law hath been

our schoolmaster unto Christ," the word employed does not at all mean

schoolmaster. It means this slave who keeps the pupil under salutary

discipline until he reaches the schoolmaster, and who superintends his

conduct until he is of age.

[Illustration: FIG. 94.--WRITING MATERIALS.]

School age regularly begins at seven for the elementary stage, which

commonly includes writing, reading, and arithmetic. The first lessons

in writing are done upon wax tablets, which correspond to our slate.

For school purposes they are flat pieces of wood, with a rim, their

surface being covered with a thin layer of wax. The pupil takes a

"style," or metal stiletto, pointed at one end and flat at the other;

with the point he scratches, or "ploughs" as the Romans called it, the

writing in the wax; with the other end he flattens the wax and so

makes the necessary erasures when he desires to correct a word or to

"clean his slate."

His first efforts will probably consist either of tracing letters

through a stencil, or of forming them from a copy while the master

guides his hand. He will next write a series of words--the good old

copybook method with the good old copybook maxims. It is only when he

has gained some proficiency that he will be allowed to write upon

paper or parchment with ink and with a split reed for pen. In such a

case the backs of useless documents come in handy, and particularly

serviceable are the rolls containing the poems of the numerous authors

whom no one wants to read, but whose books thus find one of their

ultimate uses, another being to wrap up spices or salt fish. His

arithmetic will be merely such as will enable him to make up accounts.

The Roman numerals did not lend themselves easily to the method now

adopted of calculating on paper, and the Roman pupil therefore

reckoned partly with his fingers, partly by means of counters laid or

strung upon a board. At this he became remarkably proficient, and at

mental arithmetic there is reason to believe that he could beat the

modern boy hollow. Along with the reckoning he would also necessarily

learn his tables of weights and measures. "Two-and-a-half feet one

step; two steps one pace; a thousand paces one mile." So he said or

sang, and a mile--_mille_, "a thousand" paces--remains our own word to

this day, even though it has come to signify an eccentric 1760 yards.

That Roman boys bore no love to school or schoolmaster is little

wonder. Perhaps Publius may be fortunate; but if his schoolmaster is

of the ordinary type he will be an irascible loud-voiced person, who

bawls and scolds and thrashes. It will be a common thing to find, as

Seneca puts it, a man "in a violent passion teaching you that to be in

a passion is wrong." The doctrine went that "he who is not flayed is

not educated." The methods of the military centurion may have had

something to do with creating this behaviour, but there is perhaps

another excuse to be found for the Roman pedagogue. His school, if of

the inferior kind, is like any other shop, a place open to the street,

whether on the ground floor or in the balcony-like _entresol_. There

is no cloistered privacy about his instruction. To such a place at a

very early hour come the boys "creeping unwillingly." When the days

are short the school opens before daybreak, and the smoky lamps and

lanterns create an evil smell and atmosphere in the raw and chilly

morning. That is no time to be amiable towards inattention or

stupidity. There were many other circumstances to try the temper, and

the Roman temper, except among the highest classes, was, as it is,

quick and loud. No real boy who had been a Roman school but knew what

it was to have ears pinched and to take his punishment on his hands

with the cane or the tawse. Many had been "horsed," in the way

depicted in the illustration.

There is also no cause for surprise that boys often shammed illness

and did little things to their eyes so that mother or father might

keep them from their books for a while. There were of course academies

of a better class than these schools open to the street, and probably

Publius Silius would be taken to one where his "guardian" waits with

others in an antechamber, while he is himself being taught in a room

where the walls are pictured with historical or mythological scenes,

or with charts or maps, and where there stand busts of eminent

writers. The boys are seated on benches or forms, and the master on a

high-backed chair. When the pupil is called upon to repeat a lesson,

he stands up before the teacher; when the whole class is to deliver a

dictated passage it rises and delivers it all together, in orthodox

sing-song style.

[Illustration: FIG. 95.--HORSING A BOY. (After Saechs.)]

Somewhere towards eleven o'clock there is an interval, and the boys go

home for lunch or buy something from the seller of rissoles or

sausages in the street. In the afternoon--when the schoolmaster has

taken his own luncheon and probably his short siesta--they return to

school, putting in altogether about six hours of lessons in the day.

That boys and girls went to the same elementary schools is not

absolutely provable from any explicit statement to that effect; but

there are one or two passages in literature which point almost

certainly to that conclusion. It is at least undeniable that girls,

and even big girls, went to school, and that in those schools they

were taught by men. One schoolmaster is addressed by the poet as

"detestable to both boys and girls." We have seen that in maturity the

Roman woman lived in no sort of seclusion; and it is reasonable to

suppose that as a girl she was treated in much the same way as girls

in a mixed school of to-day. Nevertheless it is also almost certain

that such mixed schools were only those of the common people, or of

the lower middle classes: the daughters of the better-circumstanced

would be instructed at home by private tutors. There they would learn

to read and write both Greek and their native Latin, to play upon the

lyre or harp, to dance--Roman dancing being more a matter of gesture

with hands and body than of movement with the feet--and to carry

themselves with the bearing fit for a Roman lady. To teach the

household duties was the function of the mother.

At Rome, as with us, there was, first, a primary education, pure and

simple, given in the schools of those who would nowadays be registered

as teachers of primary subjects. Next there was what we should call a

secondary or high-school education, given by a "grammar master," in

which the education was almost wholly literary. The same school might

doubtless employ a special arithmetic master, and also a teacher of

music, but mainly the business of such an establishment was

theoretically to prepare the boy for a proper and effective use of

language, whether for social or for public purposes. In the Rome of

the republic a man of affairs or ambitions required above all things

to be an accomplished speaker, and this tradition had not weakened

under the empire. Moreover, for the training of the intellectual

faculties as such, the Romans had no better resource than grammatical

and literary study. Science was purely empirical, mathematics was

mainly arithmetic and mensuration, and there was no room in these

subjects for that exercise of discernment and acumen as well as of

taste which was provided by well-directed study of the best authors.

In the secondary education, therefore, the chief object sought was

"the knowledge of right expression," and the acquirement of "correct,

clear, and elegant diction." This was to be achieved by the most

painstaking study of both the Greek and the Latin poets; and it is

worth noting that the Romans had the good sense to begin with the

best. Every boy must know his Homer, and steep himself in the easy

style and sound sentiments of Menander; he must also know his Virgil

and his Terence. He must know how to read a passage with proper

intonation and appreciation of the sense, and he must learn large

quantities of such poetry by heart. In the early stages the master's

part is first to read aloud a certain passage what he thinks to be the

right articulation and expression; he then explains the meaning or the

allusions, and does whatever else he considers necessary for the

understanding and appreciation of the piece. It is then the pupil's

turn to stand up and repeat the passage so as to show that he has

caught the true sense and can impart the true intonation. No doubt

there were bad and indifferent teachers as well as good ones, and

doubtless there was much mere parroting on the part of the learner. It

was then, as it is now, chiefly a question of the sort of teacher. It

is probable that in many schools the action of the mental faculty as

well as of the voice became pure sing-song. Julius Caesar once made

the comment: "If you are singing, you are singing badly; if you are

reading, you are singing."

The more advanced stage of this higher education was that of the

"school of oratory." The pupil has already acquired a correct

grammatical style, and a reasonable amount of literary information; he

now trains himself for the actual practice of the law-courts or the

deliberative assembly. He is to learn how to argue a case; how to

arrange his matter; by what devices of language to make it most

effective; and how to deliver it. At a later date there were to be

public professorships of this art, endowed by the emperor, but there

are none of these at Rome itself under Nero. The "professor of

oratory" receives his fee of some L20 or so per annum from each pupil.

At this stage the study of the great prose-writers is substituted for

that of the poets; themes are set for essays to be written upon them;

and those essays will then be delivered as speeches. Sometimes a

familiar statement or maxim from a poet is put forward to be refuted

or supported, or for you to argue first against it and then for it. Or

some historical situation may be proposed, and the student asked to

set forth the wisest or most just course in the circumstances.

"Hannibal has beaten the Romans at Cannae: shall he or shall he not

proceed directly to attack Rome? Examine the question as if you were

Hannibal." Much of this appears theoretically sound enough.

Unfortunately the subjects were generally either hopelessly threadbare

or possessed no bearing upon real life. "We are learning," says

Seneca, "not for life, but for the school." The only novelty which

could be given to the treatment of old abstract themes or puerile

questions was novelty of phrase, and the one great mark of the

literature of this time is therefore the pursuit of the striking

expression, of something epigrammatic or glittering. A speech was

judged by its purple patches of rhetoric, not by the soundness of its

thoughts. Prizes, apparently of books, were offered in these Roman

schools, and a prize would go to the youth who could tell you in the

most remarkable string of brilliant language what was your duty

towards your country, or what were the evils of anger, or for what

reasons it is right for a father to disown his son. Meanwhile parents

would look in at the school from time to time and listen to the boys

declaiming, and it is easy to see with the mind's eye the father

listening, like the proud American parent at a "graduation" day, to

his gifted offspring "speaking a piece."

Education commonly stopped at this point. If the rhetorical training

is taken early, the boy is now about sixteen; but there was nothing to

prevent the oratorical course from following instead of preceding the

"coming of age." In this case we will suppose that it has preceded.

The youth has now received a good literary training and considerable

practice in the art of speech-making. He knows enough of elementary

arithmetic to keep accounts, or, in special cases--where he is

intended for certain professional careers--he may understand some

geometry and the principles of mechanics and engineering. He may or

may not have learned to sing, and enough of music to play creditably

on lyre or harp. Unlike the young Greek, he will not necessarily have

been made to recognise that gymnastic training is an essential part of

education. He may indulge in such exercises by way of pastime or for

health; he may, and generally will, have been taught athletics; but he

does not acknowledge that they have any practical bearing upon his

aptitude for either warfare or civil life.

It is hard to gauge the intellect of the average Roman youth of

sixteen; all we know is that, while the best of literature, science,

art, and philosophy was left to be undertaken by Greeks, the Romans

seized upon whatever learning had an appreciable practical bearing,

and that, as men capable of administering and directing, they left

their intellectual and artistic superiors far behind.

Up till this time the boy has worn a toga with a purple edge, and also

the gold amulet-case round his neck. The time has, however, come for

him to be regarded as a man--not indeed free of his father's

authority, but free to walk about without a bear-leader, to marry, if

his father so desires, or to decide upon a career. Accordingly, on the

17th of March by preference, he will put away the outward insignia of

boyhood, dedicate his amulet to the household gods, and will don the

all-white toga of a man. The relatives, friends, and clients will

gather at the house, and, after offering their congratulations, will

escort the youth to the Capitol, and thence down to the Forum, where

his appearance in this manner will be accompanied by introductions and

a recognition on all sides that he is now "of age." At the Record

Office the name of "Publius Silius Bassus, son of Quintus," is

recorded with due fulness of description, and he ranks henceforth as

one of the citizens of Rome.

After this little ceremony of coming of age, a number of the young men

apparently did nothing. The sons of poorer parents have long ago gone

to their work in their various trades. Those of the more well-to-do

may--and, if they are afterwards to seek public office, they must--now

undertake military service amid the conditions which are to be

described in the next chapter. Others, being of a more studious turn,

will proceed to complete their education by going abroad to one or

other of the great seats of philosophic study which corresponded to

our universities. Philosophy meant to the Roman a guide to the

direction of life. Roman religion, upon which we shall hereafter dwell

in some detail, consisted of a number of forms and ceremonies, or acts

of recognition paid to the deities; it embodied certain traditional

principles of duty to family and state; but otherwise it exercised

very little influence on the conduct of life. So far as such guidance

was supplied at all, it was by moral philosophy, the treatment of

which, as it was understood at this date, is bound up with that of

religion and must wait till we reach that subject. It is true that

there were professional teachers of philosophy at Rome itself, but the

metropolis was not their chief resort, any more than, until recently,

London would have been recognised as a seat of university learning of

the front rank. It is also true that many great houses maintained a

domestic philosopher, who not only helped in moulding the tone of the

master of the house and afforded him intellectual company, but might

act as private philosophic tutor to his son. But for the most part

this highest instruction was rather to be sought in cities specially

noted for their assemblage of professors and lecturers. Chief among

these figured Athens, Rhodes, Tarsus, Antioch, Alexandria, and

Marseilles. At Naples also might be found a large number of men of

learning, but they were chiefly persons who had retired from

professional life, and who chose that city because of its pleasant

climate and surroundings, and because they could there enjoy each

other's society. In some of the cities named--particularly Athens and

Alexandria--there were endowed professorships (though not endowed by

the Roman emperors) of which the benefit was enjoyed, not only by the

local student but also by those from other parts of the Roman world

who chose to resort to such established teachers. This does not mean

that such students paid no fee, nor that there was any lack of

lecturers unendowed. The student was free to take his choice. Where

there was endowment, as at Athens, there was control by the local

authorities over the behaviour of students and also of their teachers;

but it is evident that a professor's audience was by no means always a

very well-ruled or docile body. As in the German universities, the

visiting students were men, and some of them fairly advanced in years,

and, also as in Germany, they followed their own tastes in study and

changed from university to university at will. They, as it were,

"sampled" the professors and made their own election. The teacher not

only lectured to them, but also lectured them; while, on their side,

they were entitled to catechise, and in a sense "badger," the

lecturer, to propound difficulties, and to make more or less

pronounced exhibition of their sentiments.

In the philosophic lecture-room the student, possessing his share of

the vivacity and excitability of the south, would stamp, spring from

his seat, shout and applaud, calling out in Greek "splendid!"

"inimitable!" "capital!" "prettily said!" and so forth. Plutarch

writes a little essay on the proper manner of behaving in the

lecture-rooms, and he tells us: "You should sit in a proper manner and

not lounge; you should keep your eyes on the speaker and show a lively

interest; maintain a composed countenance and show no annoyance or

irritation, nor look as if you were thinking of other things." Such an

attitude was the ideal and orthodox; but he tells us also that there

were some who "scowled; their eyes wandered; they sprawled, crossed

their legs, nodded and whispered to their neighbour, smiled, yawned

sleepily, and let their heads droop." This was not necessarily because

the lecturer was dull, but because he might be giving lessons which

were unwelcome to some among his audience. The cap fitted them too

well, as it sometimes does when offered by a modern preacher. But,

says the same Plutarch, if you did not like these direct and

rough-tongued monitors, you could find other professors, _poseurs_,

who were all suavity; gentlemen whose philosophical stock-in-trade was

grey hair, a pleasant voice and delivery, graceful language, and much

self-appreciation. These were the Reverend Charles Honeymans of the

period, and their following was like unto the following of that

popular pulpiteer.

[Illustration: FIG. 96--Papyri and Tabulae. (From Dyer's Pompeii.)]

Since mention has been made more than once of reading and libraries,

it is well to realise the form commonly taken by books. We must not

think of the modern bound volume standing on its shelf or open in the

hand. At our date any books made up in the form of leaves--or what the

Romans called "tablet" form--consisted only of some four or six pages.

The regular shape for a book was that of a roll, or, if the work was a

large one, it might consist of several such "rolls" or "sections." The

material was either paper--in its original sense of papyrus--or the

skin known as parchment. Papyrus was naturally the cheaper and the

less durable. Prepared sheets of a given length and breadth--the

"pages"--were written upon and then pasted to each other side by side

until a long stretch was formed. The last sheet was then attached to a

thin roller, commonly of wood, answering to that used in a modern

wall-map. Round a roll of any pretensions there was wrapped a cover of

coloured parchment, red, yellow, or purple. The ends of the roll were

rubbed smooth with pumice-stone and dyed, and a tag or label was

affixed to bear the name of the author and the work. A number of such

rolls, related in subject or authorship, were placed on end in a round

box, with the labels upwards ready for inspection. In the library such

a box would stand in a pigeon-hole or section of shelf, from which it

might be carried where required. Sometimes the rolls themselves lay in

a heap horizontally in a pigeon-hole without a box, but this

manifestly a less convenient practice. To keep the bookworms cedar-oil

was rubbed upon them, giving them a yellowish tinge. The reader,

taking the body of the roll in one hand, begins to unwind the long

strip with the other. After reading the first column or page thus

exposed, he mechanically re-winds that portion, while the width of

another page is pulled into view. The writing itself was done by means

of a reed, sharpened and split like a quill-pen, and dipped in ink

made in various ways, but mostly less "biting" than our own. This made

it comparatively easy to sponge out what was written, and to use the

same roll over again--as a "palimpsest"--for some work more desired.

It is perhaps needless to say that the writing was regularly to be

found upon one side only. If the back was used, it was for economy,

for unimportant notes, or as an exercise book for schoolboys.

We may imagine a fine library copy, or edition de luxe, of Virgil as

consisting of a number of rolls, each a long strip of the best

parchment rolled round a staff of ivory with gilded ends. Its "cover"

is a wrapper of parchment richly dyed and bearing coloured bands of

leather to serve as fasteners. From the smoothed and dyed end stands

out a scarlet label, marked "Virgil Aeneid Book I." (or as the case

may be). When opened, the first page will reveal a painted portrait of

the poet, and the writing will be found to be in a beautifully clear

and even calligraphy. Beside the shelf on which the work is placed

there likely stands a lifelike bust of Virgil in marble in bronze.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE ARMY: MILITARY SERVICE: PUBLIC CAREER

In the older days of Roman history the fighting forces had been a

"citizen army," called out for so long as it was needed, and levied

from full and true Roman citizens. In the imperial times with which we

are here dealing it had become a standing army. Soldiering was a

profession, for which the men volunteered, and, so far as Roman

citizens were concerned, it was now seldom, if ever, the case that

military service required to be made compulsory on their part. It is

true that a young man of the higher classes who proposed to follow a

public career, leading to higher and higher offices of state, must

have gone through some amount of military training, but no other Roman

was actually obliged to serve. The empire was so vast and the total of

the standing forces comparatively so small that it was always possible

to fill up the legions with those who had some motive or inclination

that way. Theoretically the state possessed a claim upon every

able-bodied man, but the population of the empire was probably a

hundred millions, and to collect a total of some 320,000 soldiers,

made up of Roman or romanized "citizens" and of provincial subjects in

about equal shares, was a sufficiently easy task, and the recruiters

could therefore afford to pick and choose. Above all we must clear our

minds of the notion that the Roman soldiers necessarily came from

Rome, or even from Italy. They were drawn from the empire at large,

and a legion posted in Spain, for example, might be recruited from a

special class of Spaniards.

Roughly speaking, the regular army, extending along the frontiers from

Chester to Jerusalem and from Jerusalem to Algeria, was composed of

two main divisions, called respectively the "legions" and the

"auxiliaries." Other special or detached forces--such as the twelve

regiments of Imperial Guards and the six of the City Guard--came under

neither of these headings, and we may leave them out of the question

for the present.

A legion was a brigade of about 6000 infantry, with 120 horsemen

attached to it. It was recruited from any convenient part of the

empire, but only from men already enjoying the rights of Roman

citizens, or else from those other provincials who were considered

sufficiently homogeneous with the Roman civilisation to stand shoulder

to shoulder with such citizens. In being permitted to serve on these

terms a man regularly becomes _ipso facto_ a citizen. The

qualifications required were that you should be free-born--that is to

say, neither slave nor ex-slave--your physique must be good, and your

height about 5 feet 10 inches: there must be nothing serious against

your record or character as viewed from the Roman standpoint; and, if

you were not already a citizen, you must belong to one of those

organised communes which were the units of administration and of

taxation within the empire. You undertake to serve for twenty years,

after which time you will receive an honourable discharge and either a

sum of money--at this date apparently about L50--or a grant of land.

By ability and character you may rise from private soldier to

centurion, that is to say, commander of a hundred, but in ordinary

circumstances you can climb no further up the military ladder. If at

the end of your term you are still robust and are considered useful,

you may, if you choose, continue to serve in a special detachment of

"veterans," with lighter duties and with exemption from common drill.

The Roman legions would thus be made up for the most part of troops

from about 18 to 38 years of age, although a considerable number might

be somewhat older.

A legion once formed had a perpetual existence; its vacancies were

filled up as they occurred; and it is obvious that it must have

consisted of respectable men of picked physique, mostly in the prime

of life, and perfectly trained in all the qualities of a soldier. When

not on actual campaign they were drilled once a day, and the recruits

twice. They practised the hurling of spears and all the attitudes of

attack with sword and pike, and of defence with the shield. Now and

then there was a review or a sham fight. They learned how to fortify a

camp, how to attack it or to defend it. Every month they put on full

armour, marched out with steady Roman tramp for ten miles and back

again to camp for the sake of practice. Meanwhile they were made

useful in building the military roads, bridges, and walls. Add to this

the strict Roman discipline, and it is difficult to conceive of any

training more capable of turning a body of 6000 men into a stubborn

and effective fighting machine. The half-naked German across the Rhine

was physically as strong and as brave; the woad-dyed Celt of Britain

was probably more dashing in his onset; the mounted Parthian across

the Euphrates was more nimble in his movements; but neither German nor

Celt cultivated the organisation or solidarity of action of the Roman,

nor could the Parthian equal him for steady onward pressure or

determined stand.

To each legion was given a number and also a name of its own, acquired

by some distinguished feat or some conspicuous campaign, or adopted in

vaunt or compliment. Thus it might be the "Victorious" Legion, the

"Indomitable," or the "Spanish" Legion, or it might, for example, wear

a crested lark upon its helmet and be called the Legion of the "Lark."

The commander of the whole legion is a man of senatorial rank; its

standard is a silver eagle on the top of a staff, commonly holding a

thunderbolt in its claw. To each legion there are ten regiments,

called "cohorts," averaging six hundred men, and every such regiment

has its colonel, or, as the translation of the Bible calls Claudius

Lysias, "its chief captain." The regiment in its turn consists of six

companies or "hundreds," with a "centurion" at the head of each, and

every pair of hundreds, if not every company, possesses a standard of

its own, consisting of a pole topped with large medallions, metal

disks, wreaths, an open hand, and other emblems.

[Illustration: FIG. 97.--ROMAN STANDARDS.]

[Illustration: FIG. 98--Armed Soldier.]

Let us imagine a certain Scius to become a private soldier in a

legion. He was born in Gaul, in the district of Lugdunum or Lyons, and

he is either a full Roman or sufficiently romanized to rank with

Romans. He is drafted to the Twentieth Legion, otherwise known as the

"Victorious Valerian," and finds himself stationed in the island of

Britain at that farthest camp of the north-west which has since grown

into the city of Chester. On joining his company he is made to take a

solemn oath that he will loyally obey all orders of his

commander-in-chief, the emperor, as represented by that emperor's

subordinates, his immediate officers. That oath he will repeat on each

1st of January and on the anniversary of the emperor's accession. For

full military dress he will first put on a tunic reaching nearly to

his knees, and, since he is serving in the northern cold, a pair of

fustian breeches covering the upper leg. On his feet will be a pair of

strong sandals, of which the thick soles are studded with hobnails.

Over his breast, and with flaps over the shoulders, he will wear a

corslet Of leather covered with hoop-like layers, or maybe scales, of

iron or bronze. On his head will be a plain pot-like helmet or

skull-cap of iron. For the rest he will possess also a thick cloak or

plaid to be used as occasion needs. In his right hand he will carry

the famous Roman pike. This is a stout weapon, over 6 feet in length,

consisting of a sharp iron head fixed in a wooden shaft, and the

soldier may either charge with it as with a bayonet, or he may hurl it

like a javelin and then fight at close quarters with his sword. On the

left arm is a large shield, which may be of various shapes. One common

form is curved inward at the sides like a portion of a cylinder some 4

feet in length by 21/2 in width: another is six-sided--a diamond

pattern, but with the points of the diamond squared away. Sometimes it

is oval. In construction it is of wicker-work or wood, covered with

leather, and embossed a blazon in metal-work, one particularly well

known being that of a thunderbolt. The shield is not only carried by

means of a handle, but may be supported by a belt over the right

shoulder. In order to be out of the way of the shield, the sword--a

thrusting rather than a slashing weapon, approaching 3 feet in

length--is hung at the right side by a belt passing over the left

shoulder. Though this arrangement may seem awkward to us, it is to be

remembered that the sword is not required until the right hand is free

of the pike, and that then, before drawing, the weapon can easily be

swung round to the left by means of the suspending belt. On the left

side the soldier wears a dagger at his girdle. The writer of the

Epistle to the Ephesians is thinking of all this equipment when he

bids the Christian put on "the whole armour of God," including the

"belt of truth," the "breast-plate of righteousness," the "shield of

faith," the "helmet of salvation" and the "sword of the spirit." The

officer, of course, wears armour, cloak, and helmet of a more

ornamental kind, and must have presented a very martial and imposing

figure.

[Illustration: FIG.99--A Roman General.]

Our friend Scius goes through the drill, the exercises, and the hard

work already mentioned. His pay will be somewhere about L8 a year, or

a little over three shillings a week, and his food will consist mainly

of wheaten porridge and bread, with salt, and a drink of thin sour

wine little better than vinegar. His wheat--the price of which is

deducted from his pay--is measured out to him every month, and it is

his own business to grind it or get it ground and converted into

bread. Vegetables he will procure as he likes or can; but meat, except

a limited amount of bacon, he will commonly neither get nor very much

desire. On one occasion indeed we find the soldiers complaining that

they were being fed altogether too much upon meat. It deserves to be

remarked that the results speak well for the wholesomeness of this

simple diet of the legionary. For his quarters he will be one of ten

sharing the same tent under the supervision of a kind of corporal.

There are no married quarters. Not only are women not permitted in the

camp, but the soldier cannot legally marry during his term of service.

[Illustration: FIG. 100.--CENTURION.]

Scius will meet with no gentle treatment while in his pupilage. The

grim centurion, or commander of his company, is a man of iron, who has

risen from the ranks; his methods are sharp and summary, and he

carries a tough switch of vine-wood, with which he promptly belabours

the idle or the stupid. Any neglect of duty or act of disobedience is

inevitably Punished, sometimes by hard labour in digging trenches,

sometimes by a fine, sometimes by stripping the soldier of his armour

and making him stand for hours in civilian attire as a butt for

ridicule in the middle of the camp, sometimes by a lowering of his

rank corresponding to the modern taking away of a "man's stripes." If

a soldier proves a hopeless case he is expelled with ignominy from the

camp and army. If he deserts or plays the traitor he may either be

decapitated or beaten to death with cudgels. If a whole company or

regiment gets into disgrace, it may have to put up with barley

instead of wheat for its rations, and if it is guilty of gross

insubordination, or of some crime which cannot be sheeted home to the

individual, it may be "decimated," or, in other words, every tenth

man, drawn by lot, may be condemned to death. The last, of course, is

an extreme measure, and is only mentioned here as belonging to extreme

cases.

[Illustration: FIG. 101.--STANDARD BEARER.]

On the other hand, if Scius is a smart soldier he will gradually gain

recognition as such. He may become the head man in his mess of ten; or

be made an orderly, to carry the watchword round to the messes; or he

may be chosen by the centurion as his subaltern. As he gains maturity

and steadiness, and wins confidence, he may be elected to bear the of

his company, in which case a bear's skin will be thrown over his

shoulders, and the top of his helmet will be concealed beneath the

head of that beast, worn as a hood. Being a saving man, and taking a

pride in himself, he will gradually decorate his sword-belt and

girdle, and perhaps his scabbard, with silver knobs and ornaments.

Also behaving well in the victorious brushes with the Britons, he will

acquire, besides occasional loot and booty-money, a number of metal

medallions or disks, to be strung across his breast somewhat after the

manner of the modern war-medals. Gradually, as he becomes a veteran,

he may rise to be centurion, when he will wear a crest upon his helmet

and greaves upon his shins, have his corslet of scale-armour covered

with medallions, and will himself carry the vine-rod of authority. If

he should ever succeed in becoming, not merely the centurion of his

company, but the first or senior of all the sixty centurions belonging

to the whole legion, he will rank practically as a commissioned

officer, will retire on a competence if he does retire, and will in

all probability be made a knight. In that case he may proceed to

higher commands, as if he had been born in that order to which he has

at last attained.

[Illustration: FIG. 102.--BAGGAGE-TRAIN.]

But all this promotion is yet a long way off. One morning, while Scius

is still a private, he hears, not the "taratantara" of the long

straight trumpet which calls to ordinary work, but the sound of the

military horn, which means that the legion is to march. He helps to

pack up the tent, the hand-mills, and other indispensable needments,

and to place them on the mules, packhorses, or waggons. He then puts

on his full armour, although, if it is hot, and if there is no

immediate danger, he may sling his helmet over his shoulder, while his

shield, marked with his name and company, may perhaps be stacked with

others in a baggage-waggon. His food-supply for sixteen days--the

Roman fortnight--is wrapped in a parcel, and this, together with his

eating and drinking vessels and any other articles such as would

appertain to a modern knapsack, is carried over his shoulder on a

forked stick. It is known that to-night the army will be obliged to

camp on the way, and it is a binding rule of the service that no camp

arrangements shall be left to chance. Surveyors will ride on ahead

with a body of cavalry, and will choose a suitable position easily

defended and with water near. They will then outline the boundaries

according to a certain scale, and will parcel out the interior,

according to an almost invariable system, into blocks or sections to

accommodate certain units. When the legion arrives, it marches in with

a perfect understanding as to where each company of men and each part

of the baggage-train is to quarter itself. Being in an enemy's country

it is not enough simply to post sentries. A trench must be dug and a

palisade erected round the camp, and for that purpose every soldier on

the march has carried a couple of sharpened stakes and a sort of small

pickaxe. It may therefore be readily understood that Scius is heavily

laden. Besides the weight of his body-armour and his shield, pike, and

sword, his orthodox burden is about forty-five English pounds.

[Illustration: FIG. 103.--SOLDIERS WITH PACKS.]

[Illustration: FIG. 104--ROMAN SOLDIERS MARCHING. (Scheiber.)]

Before entering upon this description of service and armour of the

legionary troops, it was stated that the legions made up but one-half

of Roman army, the other half consisting of what were known as

"auxiliaries." If there were in the whole Roman empire 150,000

soldiers of the kind described there were also about 150,000 of a

different type. Just as it is a natural part of the British policy to

raise bodies of Indian or African troops from among the non-British

subjects of the empire, so it was an obvious course for the Romans to

raise native troops in Africa, Syria, Spain, Gaul, Britain, or the

German provinces on the western bank of the Rhine. And just as the

British bring their non-British regiments into connection with the

regular army, and put them under the command of British officers, so

the Romans associated their "auxiliary" soldiery, mostly under Roman

officers, with the regular force of the legions. To every legion of

6000 men there was attached, under the same general of division, a

force of about 6000 men of non-Roman standing. The subject people of a

province was called upon to recruit a certain quota of such troops,

and, when so recruited, the soldiers of this class were required to

serve for twenty-five years. At the expiration of their term they

became Roman citizens, and their descendants ranked as such in the

enjoyment of Roman opportunities. Such forces were not themselves

formed into "legions" under an "eagle"; they served in separate

regiments. Some of them were infantry almost indistinguishable from

the Roman; others were armed in a different manner as to shield,

spear, and sword; others were light skirmishing troops using their

native weapons, such as javelins, slings, and bows. A very large

proportion were cavalry, and whereas a legion possessed only 120 Roman

horsemen, the auxiliary cavalry attached to it would number one or

more regiments of dither 1000 or 500 men each. But it was also part of

the Roman policy to employ such auxiliary troops, not in the region in

which they were raised and among their own people, but elsewhere, and

sometimes even at the opposite extremity of the empire. Thus in

Britain might be found, not only Germans and Batavians, but Spaniards

or Syrians, while in Syria there might be quartered Africans or

Germans, and in Africa troops from the modern Austria. We cannot call

this custom an invariable one, but it was usual, and obviously it was

politic.

[Illustration: FIG. 105.--Imperial Guards.]

To these two co-operating forces--legions and auxiliaries--we must add

the Imperial Guards, twelve regiments of 1000 men each, quartered in

Italy, and generally congregated in a special camp just outside the

gate at the top of the Quirinal and Viminal Hills beyond the modern

railway station. Like other Guards, these were a picked body,

containing many volunteers from Italy itself, while others came from

the most romanized parts of Gaul or elsewhere. They enjoyed many

privileges, wore a more gorgeous armour, served only sixteen years and

received double pay. Frequently it came to be the case that this

particular body of troops was the one which made and unmade emperors,

chiefly under the influence of pecuniary promises or largess. Besides

these, 6000 City Guards were in barracks inside the metropolis for the

protection of the town; 7000 _gendarmerie_, already mentioned, served

as night-watch and fire-brigade, but perhaps scarcely rank as

soldiers. Here and there in the empire there also existed separate

volunteer detachments of various dimensions serving on special duty,

and it was to one of these that belonged the Cornelius of the Acts of

the Apostles, who is there described as a centurion of the "Italian

band."

[Illustration: FIG. 106.--BESIEGERS WITH THE "TORTOISE."]

It would carry us too far afield if we entered into detailed

descriptions of Roman warfare--of Roman marches, Roman camps, and

fortifications, Roman sieges, and military engines. Otherwise it would

be highly interesting to watch the attack made upon an enemy's wall or

gate by a band of men pushing in front of them a wicker screen covered

with hide, or holding their shields locked together above their heads,

so as to form a roof to shelter them from the spears, stones,

firebrands, and pots of flame which rained down from the walls.

[Illustration: FIG 107.--ROMAN ARTILLERY.]

Or we might see moving up on wheels a shed, from the open front of

which protrudes the great iron head of a ram affixed to a huge beam.

If you were under the shed, you would see that the beam was perhaps as

much as 60 feet in length, and that it was suspended on chains or

ropes by which it could be swung, so that the head butted with a

deadly insistence upon the masonry of the wall. Meanwhile the enemy

from the ramparts are doing their best to set the shed on fire, to

break off the ram's head with heavy stones, to pull it upwards by a

noose, or to deaden the effect of the shock by lowering stuffed sacks

or other buffer material between it and the wall. At another point, in

place of the shed, there is rolled forward a lofty construction like a

tower built in several stories. When this approaches the wall it will

overtop it, and a drawbridge with grappling irons may be dropped upon

the parapet. Elsewhere there is mining and countermining. From a safer

distance the artillery of the time is hurling its formidable missiles.

There is the "catapult," which shoots a giant arrow, sometimes tipped

with material on fire, from a groove or half-tube to a distance of a

quarter of a mile. The propelling force, in default of gunpowder or

other explosive, is the recoil of strings of gut or hair which have

been tightened by a windlass. There is also the heavier "hurler,"

which works in much the same manner, but which, instead of arrows,

throws stones and beams of from 14 pounds to half a hundredweight,

doing effective damage up to a distance of some 400 yards.

[Illustration: FIG. 108.--AUXILIARY CAVALRYMAN.]

Scius joins his legion as a private infantry soldier. He is in the

"hobnailed" service. But if our young noble, Publius Silius Bassus,

enters upon a military career, he will probably become one of the 120

Roman horsemen attached to the legion, and will be serving as a

"knight" or "gentleman," with servants to relieve him of his rougher

work. The cavalrymen among whom he serves do not ride upon a saddle

with stirrups, but on a mere saddlecloth. On their left arm is a round

shield or buckler; they carry a spear of extreme reach, wear a longer

sword than the infantrymen, and on their back is a quiver containing

three broad-pointed javelins, very similar to assegais, which serve

them as missiles. If by good service they obtain medallions like the

infantry, they will fasten them to the bridles and breast-straps of

their horses, and altogether will make a fine and jingling show.

Through the influence of his family, Publius will most likely be taken

under the personal supervision of the general in command, will

frequently mess with him, and will perhaps act as a kind of honorary

aide-de-camp. After a sufficient initiation into military business, he

will be appointed what may be called colonel of an infantry regiment

of auxiliaries, then colonel of a regiment of the legion, and

subsequently, if he is following the profession, colonel of a regiment

of the auxiliary cavalry. He does not at any time pass through the

rank of centurion, any more than the British officer passes through

that of sergeant-major. The class distinction is at least as great in

the case of the Romans.

When the young noble has completed this series of services--although

the whole of it is not absolutely necessary, and it will be sufficient

if he has been six months titular colonel of a regiment of the

legion--he may perhaps return to Rome, and at the age of twenty-five

may enter upon his first public position, and so become himself a

senator. His duties may be connected with the Treasury at Rome itself,

or more probably he will accompany a proconsul who is on his way to

govern a province for a year--perhaps Andalusia, or Macedonia, or

Bithynia. To his chief he stands for that year in a kind of filial

relation. His main business will be to supervise the financial

affairs, to act as paymaster, and to keep the accounts of the

province, but he will also, when required, administer justice in place

of the governor. In this capacity he learns the methods of provincial

government in readiness for the time when he himself may be made a

governor, whether by the senate or by the emperor. His next step

upward will be to the post of aedile, one of the officials who control

the streets, public buildings, markets, and police of Rome. By the age

of thirty he may arrive at the second highest step on the official

ladder, in a position which qualifies him to preside over a court of

law. Or it may bring with it no greater function than that of

presiding over "games" in the circus or amphitheatre, and of spending

a liberal sum of money of his own upon making them both magnificent

and novel. After this he may receive from the emperor the

command of a brigade--the 12,000 men composed of a legion and its

auxiliaries--perhaps at Cologne or Mainz, perhaps at Caerleon-on-Usk,

perhaps near Antioch. In this position his movements are subject to

the authority of the governor of the province, who is the "lieutenant"

or "deputy" of His Highness in the larger capacity, while he himself

is but a "lieutenant" of Caesar as commanding one of his legions.

He may now himself be appointed governor to a province, but hardly yet

to those which are the "plums" of the empire. There is still one

highest post for him to fill. This is the consulship. Under the

republic the two consuls had been the highest executive officers of

the state, and the year was dated by their names. Nominally they were

still in the same position, and the sane emperors made a point of

treating them with all outward respect. They took precedence of all

but "His Highness the Head of the State." But whereas under the

republic there had been but two consuls holding joint office for the

year, under the emperors the post had become to such a degree

complimentary, and there were so many nobles who desired the honour or

to whom the emperor was minded to grant it, that it became the custom

to hold the position only for two months, so that twelve persons in

each year might boast of being ex-consuls or having "passed the

consul's chair."

Publius Silius, we may suppose, passes up each step of the ladder, or

what was called the "career of honours," and becomes senatorial

governor of no less important a province than "Asia"--that nearer

portion of Asia Minor which contained flourishing cities like Smyrna,

Ephesus, and Rhodes. In that office, as in any other which he may

hold, it behoves him to comport himself with caution and modesty. If

he is a man of unusual influence or popularity he will do well to keep

the fact concealed. There must be nothing in his demeanour or his

speech to lay him open to a charge of becoming dangerous to the

emperor. That emperor is Nero; and even stronger and saner emperors

than Nero watched suspiciously the behaviour of aspiring men.

CHAPTER XIX

ROMAN RELIGION--STATE AND INDIVIDUAL

To undertake to set forth with any definiteness the "religious ideas

of a Roman" of A.D. 64 would be an extremely difficult task. Those

ideas would differ with the individual, being determined or varied by

a number of considerations and influences--by locality, education, and

temperament. Silius would not hold the views of Scius and probably not

those of Marcia. We may speak of the "State religion" of Rome, as

distinct from various other religions tolerated and practised in

different parts of the empire, but it is scarcely possible to define

the contents of that "State religion." There were certain special

priests and priestly bodies who saw to it that certain rites and

ceremonies should be perfortied scrupulously in a prescribed manner

and on prescribed dates; but these were officers of the state, whose

knowledge and functions were confined to the ritual observances with

which they had to deal. They were not persons trained in a system of

theology, nor were they preachers of a code of doctrines or morals;

they had no "cure of souls," and belonged to no church; they had no

_credo_ and no Bible or corresponding authority to which to refer.

Though most well-informed persons could have told the names of the

prominent deities in the calendar--such as Jupiter, Mars, Apollo, and

Ceres--perhaps scarcely any one but an encyclopaedist or antiquarian

could have named one-half of the total. It is not merely that the

deities on the list were so numerous. There were other reasons for

ignorance or vagueness. In the first place, the line between the

operations of one deity and those of another was often too fine to

draw, and deities originally more or less distinct came to be confused

or identified. Secondly, it was often hard, if not impossible, to make

up one's mind whether a so-called deity--such as Virtue, Peace, or

Health--was supposed to have a real existence, or whether it was

simply the personification of an abstract quality. Thirdly, many of

the ancient divinities had fallen out of fashion, and to a large

extent out of memory, while many new ones--Isis and Serapis for

example--had come, or were coming, into vogue.

The state possessed its old-established calendar of days sacred to a

number of deities, and its code of ritual to be performed in their

honour. There were ancient prescriptions as to what certain priests

should wear, what they should do or avoid in their priestly character,

what victims--ox, sheep, or pig--they should sacrifice, what

instruments they should use for the purpose, and in what formula of

words they should pray in particular connections. There was a standing

commission, with the Pontifex Maximus--at this date that excellent

religious authority, the emperor Nero--at its head, to safeguard the

state religion, to see that its requirements were carried out, and

that no one ventured to commit an outrage towards it. But the state

could not have told you with any precision that you must believe in

just so many deities and no others; it could not have told you

precisely what notions to entertain concerning those deities whom it

did officially recognise; it dictated no theological doctrines;

neither did it dictate any moral doctrines beyond those which you

would find in the secular law. It reserved the right to prevent the

introduction of foreign or new divinities if it found sufficient

cause; but so long as the temples, the rites and ceremonies, the

cardinal moral axioms of the Roman "religion," and the basic

principles of Roman society were respected, the state practised no

sort of inquisition into your beliefs or non-beliefs, and in no way

interfered with your particular selection of favourite deities.

Polytheism in an advanced community is always tolerant, because it is

necessarily always indefinite. What it does not readily endure is an

organised attack upon the entire system, whether openly avowed or

manifestly implied. Even undisguised unbelief in any deity at all it

is often willing to tolerate, so long as the unbelief is rather a

matter of dialectics than anything else, and makes no attempt at a

crusade. When a state so disposed is found to interfere with a novel

religion, it will generally be easy to perceive that the jealousy is

not on behalf of the deities nor of a creed, but on behalf of the

community in its political, economic, or social aspect. This, however,

is perhaps to anticipate. Let us endeavour to realise as best we can

the religious situation among the Roman or romanized portion of the

population.

Though we are not here directly concerned with the steps by which the

Roman religion had come to be what it was, we can scarcely hope to

understand the position without some comprehension of that

development. The Romans were a conservative people, and many of the

peculiarities of their worship were due to the retention of old forms

which had lost such spirit as they once possessed.

In the infant days of the nation there had been no such things as gods

in human shape, or in recognisable shape at all. There were only

"powers" or "influences" superior to mankind, by whose aid or

concurrence man must work out his existence. The early Romans and such

Italian tribes as they became blended with were, as they still are,

extremely superstitious. In a pre-scientific age they, like other

peoples, were at a loss to understand what produced thunder and

lightning, rain, the fertility or failure of crops, the changes of the

seasons, the flow or cessation of springs and streams, the

intoxication or exhilaration proceeding from wine, and a multitude of

other phenomena. Fire was a perplexing thing; so was wind: the woods

were full of mysterious sounds and movements. They could comprehend

neither birth nor death, nor the fructification of plants. The

consequence was a feeling that these things were due to unseen

agencies; and the attempt was made to bring those powers into some

sort of relation with mankind, either by the compulsion of magical

operations and magical formulae, or by sacrifices and offerings of

propitiation, or by promises. A superhuman power might be placed under

a spell, or placated with food and drink, or persuaded by a vow. Such

"powers" were exceedingly numerous. Greatest of all, and recognised

equally by all, was the power working in the sky with the thunder and

the rain. Its presence was everywhere alike, and its operations most

palpable at every season. Countless others were concerned with

particular localities or with particular functions. Every wood, if not

every tree, and also every fountain, was controlled by some such

higher "power"; every manifestation or operation of nature came from

such an "influence." There was no kind of action or undertaking, no

new stage of life or change of condition, which did not depend for

help or hindrance upon a similar power. At first the "powers" bore no

distinctive names, and were conceived in no definite shapes. They were

not yet gods. The human being who sought to work upon them to favour

him could only do, say, and offer such things as he thought likely to

move them. But in process of time it became inevitable that these

superhuman agencies should be referred to under some sort of title,

and the title literally expressed the conception. Hence a multitude of

names. Not only was there the ever-prominent Jupiter or "sky-father";

there a veritable multitude of powers with provinces great and small.

Among the larger conceptions the power concerned with the sowing of

seed was Saturn that with the growth of crops was Ceres, that with the

blazing of fire was Vesta. Among the smaller the power which taught a

babe to eat was Edulia that which attended the bringing home of a

bride was Domiduca. The ability to speak or to walk was supposed to be

imparted by separate agencies named accordingly. Flowers depended on

Flora and fruits on Pomona.

[Illustration: FIG. 109.--JUPITER.]

But to assign a name is a great step towards creating a "power" into a

"god," and such agencies began to take shape in the mind of those who

named them. This was the second stage. Jupiter, Ceres, Saturn, and

almost all the rest became "gods." The powers in the woodlands--a

Silvanus or Faunus--became embodied, like the more modern gnomes and

kobbolds. Once imagine a shape, and the tendency is to give it visible

form in an image "like unto man," and to honour it with an abode--a

temple or shrine. The earliest Romans known to us erected no images or

temples, but they were not long in creating them. Particularly rapid

was the reducing of a god to human form when they came into close

contact with the Etruscans and the Greeks. For all the important

deities poetry and art combined to evolve an appropriate bodily form,

which gradually became conventional, so that the ordinary notion of a

Jupiter, a Juno, a Mercury, or a Ceres was approximately that which

had been gathered from the statue thus developed. This trouble was not

taken with all the most ancient divinities. Many of the old rural and

local deities, and many of those with quite minor provinces, were left

vague and unrealised. They were represented in no temples and by no

statues. Naturally as the Roman state grew from a set of neighbouring

farms into a great city, and from a small settlement into a vast

empire, the little local gods fell into the background. The deities

which concerned the state, and to which it erected temples, were those

with the more far-reaching operations--such as the gods identified

with the sky and its thunders, with war, with fertility, with the sea,

with the hearth-fire of all Rome. The rest might well be left to

localities or to domestic worship.

From the early days of Rome there existed a calendar for festivals to

certain divinities important to the little growing town, and a code of

ceremonies to be performed in their honour, and of formulae of prayer

to be offered to them. The later Romans, in their characteristic

conservatism, adhered to those festivals, to that ritual, and to those

formulae, even when some of the deities had ceased to be of

appreciable account, and when neither the meaning of the ritual nor

the sense of the old words was any longer understood by the very

priests who used them.

Reflect a moment on this situation. First, we have a number of deities

of the first rank, housed in temples, embodied in statues, and

recognised in all the Roman world; next a number of minor divinities

whose operations and worship may be remotely rural or otherwise local,

and whose functions are by no means always distinguishable from those

of the greater gods; then a series of more or less unintelligible

ceremonials carried out by ancient rule in honour of divinities often

practically forgotten; outside these a number of vague powers

presiding over small domestic and other actions; finally, a peculiar

Roman tendency--in keeping with the last--to erect into divinities,

and to symbolise in statue housed in temples, all manner of abstract

qualities and states, such as Hope, Harmony, Peace, Wealth, Health,

Fame, and Youth.

[Illustration: FIG. 110.--A SACRIFICE.]

Reflect again that, when the Romans, as they spread, came into contact

with Greeks, Egyptians, or other foreigners, they met with deities

whose provinces were necessarily often identical with or closely akin

to their own. Then remember that there is no church and no official

document to define the complete list of Roman gods. Does it not

follow, as a matter of course, on the one hand, that the importation

of new gods was an easy matter, and on the other, that no individual

Roman could draw the line as to the number of even the old-established

deities in whom he should or should not believe?

The guardians of the public religion were satisfied if the due rites

were paid by the state to those deities, on those dates, and precisely

in that manner, which happened to be prescribed in the official

religious books. For the rest they left matters to the individual.

So much it has been necessary to say in order to account for existing

attitudes. We must use the plural, since the attitude of the state

officials is but one of several, and, inasmuch as the state officials

themselves were not a theological caste but only secular servants of

the community administering the regulations for external worship as

laid down in the records, it often happened that their official

attitude had nothing to do with their individual beliefs. Often they

did not know or care whether there was a real religious efficacy in

the acts which they performed; sometimes all that they knew was that

they were doing what the state required to be done properly by some

one.

Cicero quotes a dictum of a Pontifex Maximus that there was one

religion of the poet, another of the philosopher, and another of the

statesman. This is true, but it is hardly adequate. We must at least

add that of the common people. A well-known statement of more modern

birth puts the case--rather too strongly--that at our period all

religions were regarded by the people as equally true, by the

philosopher as equally false and by the statesman as equally useful.

We may begin with the ordinary people of whatever station, who were

not poets nor thinkers nor magistrates. It is an error to suppose that

such Romans of the first century were either atheistic or indifferent

to religion. Their fault was rather that they were too superstitious,

ready to believe too much rather than too little, but to believe

without relating their belief to conduct. They did not question the

existence of the traditional gods, nor the characters attributed to

them; they were ready to perform their dues of worship and to make

their due offerings, but all this had no bearing upon their own

morality. They believed with the terror of the superstitious in omens

and portents, and in rites of expiation and purification to avert the

threatened evil. They were alarmed by thunder and lightning,

earthquakes, bad dreams, ravens seen on the wrong side of the road,

and other evil tokens. They commonly accepted the existence of malign

spirits, including ghosts. They were prepared to believe that on

occasion a statue had bled or turned round on its base; that an ox had

spoken in human language; or that there had been a rain of blood.

There were doubtless exceptions, and superstition was less dire and

oppressive than once it was. More than fifty years before our date

Cicero had said that even old women no longer shuddered at the terrors

of an underworld, and fifty years after it the satirist asserts the

same of children. But both writers are speaking somewhat

hyperbolically. Doubtless it had been wondered how two augurs could

look at each other without a smile, but there is nothing to show that

even a minority of augurs were acutely conscious of anything to smile

at.

[Illustration: FIG. 111.--ISIS WORSHIP. (Wall-Painting.)]

In the multiplicity of deities the ordinary people were prepared to

accept as many more as you chose to offer them, especially if the

worship attaching to them contained mystic or orgiastic ceremonies. By

this date the populace had become exceedingly mixed, especially in the

capital, and the cool hard-headed Roman stock had been largely

replaced or leavened by foreign elements, especially from the East.

The official worship of the state was formal and frigid; it offered

nothing to the emotions or the hopes. Many among the people felt an

instinct for something more sacramental, and especially attractive was

any form of worship which promised a continued existence, and probably

a happier existence, after death. Even the mere mysteriousness of a

form of worship had its allurements. Hence a tendency to Judaism,

still more to the Egyptian worship of Isis and Osiris. The latter made

many proselytes, particularly among the women, and contained ideas

which are by no means ignoble but to our modern minds far more truly

"religious" than anything to be found in the native Roman cults. To

pass through purification, to practise asceticism, to feel that there

was a life beyond the grave apportioned to your deserts, to go through

an impressive form of worship held every day, and to have the emotions

thus worked upon--all this supplied something to the moral nature

which was lacking in the chill sacrifices and prayers to Jupiter and

the other national divinities. In vain had the authorities, in their

doubt as to the moral effects, tried on several occasions to suppress

this foreign worship; it always revived, and it now held its

established place both in the imperial city and in the provinces,

particularly near the sea, for it was especially a sailors' religion.

Rome, like Pompeii, had its temple of Isis and her daily celebrations.

There was, however, no necessary conflict between this worship and the

official religion. It was quite possible to accept Isis while

accepting Jupiter. Nor, though this particular cult has required

mention, must it be taken as belonging to more than a section of the

Roman population. Most Romans would look upon it and other deviations

with acquiescence, some with contempt, and perhaps some with a shake

of the head, while themselves satisfied with an indifferent conformity

to the more established customs of the state.

Setting aside the devotees of the mystic, the more ordinary point of

view was that between Romans and the established gods of Rome there is

an understanding. The gods will support Rome so long as Rome pays to

them their dues of formal recognition. Their ritual must not be

neglected by the authorities; it is not necessary for an individual

member of the community to concern himself further in the matter. The

state, through its appointed ministers, will make the necessary

sacrifices and say the necessary words; the citizen need not put in an

appearance or take any part. He will not do or say anything

disrespectful towards the deities in question, and he will enjoy the

festivals belonging to them. If remarkable portents and disasters

occur, he will agree that there is something wrong in the behaviour of

the state, and that there must be some public purification or other

placation of the gods. If the state orders such a proceeding, he will

perform whatever may be his share in it. So far he is loyal to the

"religion of the state."

[Illustration: FIG. 112.--HOUSEHOLD SHRINE. (Pompeii.)]

In his private capacity he has his own wants, fears, and hopes. He

therefore betakes himself to whatever divinity he considers most

likely to help him; he makes his own prayers and vows an offering if

his request is granted. Reduced to plain commercial language his

ordinary attitude is--no success, no payment. A cardinal difference

between the religion of the Romans and our own is to be seen in the

nature of their prayers. They always ask for some definite

advantage--prosperity, safety, health, or the like. They never pray

for a clean heart or for some moral improvement. Of more importance

than the man's moral condition will be his scrupulous observance of

the right external practices. Unlike the Greek, he will cover his head

when he prays. He will raise his hand to his lips before the statue,

or, if he is appealing to the celestial deities, he will stretch his

palms upwards above his head; if to the infernal powers, he will hold

them downwards. These are the things that matter.

At home, if he belongs to the better type of representative citizen,

our Roman has his household shrine and his household divinities, whom

he never neglects. If he is very pious, he may pray to them every

morning, or at least before every enterprise. In any case he will

remember them with a small offering when he dines. There are the "gods

of the stores"--his "penates"--certain deities whom he has selected as

guardians of his belongings, and who have their little images by the

hearth in the kitchen. There is the household "protector," or more

commonly there are two, who may be painted under the form of

lightly-stepping youths in a little niche or shrine above a small

altar. To these he will offer fruits, flowers, incense, and cakes. And

there is the "Genius" of the master of the house, who is also painted

on the wall, or who may be represented by his own portrait bust or by

the picture of a snake. That "Genius" means the power presiding over

his vitality and health and wellbeing. If he is an artisan and belongs

to a guild, he will pay special worship to the patron god or goddess

of that guild--to Vesta, if he is a baker, to Minerva, if he is a

fuller. Out of doors he will find a street shrine in the wall at a

crossing, pertaining to the tutelary god of what may be called his

"parish," and this he will not neglect. Like all other orthodox Romans

he will not undertake any new enterprise--betrothal, marriage,

journey, or important business--without ascertaining that the auspices

are favourable.

In a general way he has a notion that the gods are displeased at

certain forms of crime, and that they approve of justice and the

carrying out of compacts. The gods overlook the state, because the

state engages them so to do, and therefore to break the laws of the

state is to anger the gods of the state. But this is rather subtle for

the common man, and there is generally no understood immediate

relation between these gods and his moral conduct, unless he has sworn

an oath by one or other of them. The purpose of calling a god to

witness is to bring upon a perjurer the anger of the offended deity.

But he entertains no such conception as the modern one of "sin" or of

"remorse for sin." "Sin" is either a breach of the secular law or

breach of a contract with a deity and "remorse" is but fear of or

regret for the consequences.

His morality is determined by the laws of the state, family

discipline, and social custom. For that reason his vices on the

positive side will mostly be those of his appetites, and on the

negative side a want of charity and compassion. He may be guiltless of

lying and stealing, murder and violence; he may be honest and

law-abiding; but there is nothing to make him temperate, continent, or

gentle. His avowed code is "duty," and duty is defined by law and

tradition.

If this is the religious condition of the common-place man or woman--a

blend of superstition, formalism, and tolerance--it is by no means

that of the educated thinker. Such persons were for the most part

freethinkers. Many of them, finding no better guide to conduct,

conform to the "religion" of the state without any real belief in its

gods or attaching any importance to its ceremonies. They do not feel

called upon to propagate any other views, and they probably think the

current notions are at least as good for the ignorant as any others.

If they are poets, like Horace or Lucan, they will dress up the

mythology, mostly from Greek models, and write fluently about Jupiter

and Juno, Venus and Mercury, either attributing to them the recognised

characters and legends, or varying them so as to make them more

picturesque and interesting--perhaps even improving them--but all the

time believing no more in the stories they are telling, or in the

deities themselves, than Tennyson need have believed in King Arthur

and Guinevere. The gods are good poetic material and are sure to

afford popular, or at least inoffensive, reading. The poets doubtless

do something to humanise and beautify the popular conception of a

deity, but they seldom deliberately set out with any such purpose. If

the educated are not poets, but public men of affairs, they may

believe just as little, and yet regard the established cult of the

gods as an excellent discipline for the vulgar and the best known

means of upholding the national principle of "duty." If they are

philosophers they may not, and the Epicureans in reality do not,

believe in the gods at all--certainly not as they are generally

conceived--and will openly discuss in speech and in writing the

question of their existence or non-existence, and of their character

and nature if they do exist. They will endeavour to substitute for the

barren formalism of rites and ceremonies, or the inconsistent or

incomplete traditional morality of duty, another set of principles as

a sounder guide to life and conduct. Some are monotheists, some are

simply in doubt. Says Nero's own tutor, Seneca, "Do you want to

propitiate the gods? Then be good. The true worshipper of the gods is

he who acts like them." "Better," remarks Plutarch, "not believe in a

God at all than cringe before a god who is worse than the worst of

men." In the actual worship of images none of them believe. One

conspicuous writer of the time says: "To look for a form and shape to

a god, I consider to be a mark of human feebleness of mind."

Concerning the schools of thought and in particular the tenets of

those Stoics and Epicureans whom St. Paul met at Athens, and whom he

could meet in educated circles all over the Roman Empire, we shall

have to speak in a following chapter, when summing up the intellectual

and moral condition of the time. Meanwhile it should be understood

that, though a profound or anything approaching a professional study

of philosophy was discouraged among the true Romans--more than once

the professional philosophers were banished from the capital--there

were few cultivated persons who did not to some extent dabble in it,

and even go so far as to profess an adherence to one school or

another. None of these men believed in the "Roman religion" as

administered by the state, although many of them were administering it

themselves. The same man could one day freely discuss the gods in

conversation or a treatise, and the next he might be clad in priestly

garb and officially seeing that the rites of sacrifice were being

religiously carried out in terms of the books, or that the auspices

were being properly taken.

It does not, however, follow at all that because poet or public man

cared nothing for the pantheon and all its mythology, he was therefore

without his superstitions. He might still tremble at signs and

portents, at comets, at dreams, and at the unpropitious behaviour of

birds and beasts. He might believe in astrology and resort to its

professors, called the "Chaldaeans." On the other hand he might laugh

at such things. It was all a matter of temperament. It certainly was

not every man who dared to act like one of the Roman admirals. When it

was reported that the omens were unpropitious to an imminent battle

because the sacred chickens "would not eat," he ordered them to be

thrown into the sea so that at least they might drink. The

freethinkers were in advance of their times. "Science" in the modern

sense hardly existed, and until phenomena are explained it is hard to

avoid a perplexity or astonishment which is equivalent to

superstition.

Consider now these various states of mind--that of the people, ready

to add almost any deity to the large and vague number already

recognised; that of the poet, who finds the deities such useful

literary material; that of the magistrate or public man, who, without

enthusiasm or necessary belief, regards religion as a thing useful to

society; and that of the philosopher, who thinks all the current

religious conceptions unsound, if not absurd, and morally almost

useless.

Manifestly a society so composed will be one of unusual tolerance. The

Romans had no disposition to force their religion on the subject

provinces of the empire. Their religion was the Roman religion; the

religion of the Greeks might be left Greek, the Jewish religion

Jewish, and the Egyptian religion Egyptian. Any nation had a right to

the religion of its fathers. Nay, the Jews had such peculiar notions

about a Sabbath day and other matters that a Jew was exempted from the

military service which would have compelled him to break his national

laws. All religions were permitted, so long as they were national

religions. Also all religious views were permitted to the individual,

so long as they were not considered dangerous to the empire or

imperial rule, or so long as they threatened no appreciable harm to

the social order. If a Jew came to Rome and practised Judaism well and

good. It was, in the eyes of the Romans, a narrow-minded and

uncharitable religion, marked by many strange and absurd practices and

superstitions, but if a misguided oriental people liked to indulge in

it, well and good. Even if a Roman became a proselyte to Judaism, well

and good, so long as he did not flout the official religion of his own

country. If the Egyptians chose to worship cats, ibises, and

crocodiles, that was their affair, so long as they let other people

alone. In Gaul, it is true, the emperor Claudius, predecessor of Nero,

had put down the Druids. Earlier still the Druids had already been

interfered with; but that was because the Druids--those weird old

white-sheeted men with their long beards and strange magic--were

performing human sacrifices--burning men alive in wicker frames--and

such conduct was not only contrary to the secular law of Rome, but

even to natural law. And when Claudius finally suppressed them, or

drove the remnant out of Gaul into Britain, it was not simply because

they worshipped non-Roman gods and performed non-Roman rites, but

because they were, as they had always notoriously been, a dangerous

political influence interfering with the proper carrying out of the

Roman government.

And when we come to Christianity it must be remarked that, so long as

that nascent religion was regarded as merely a variety of Judaism, it

was actually protected by the Roman power, and owes no little of its

original progress to the fact. In the Acts of the Apostles it is

always from the Roman governor that St. Paul receives, not only the

fairest, but the most courteous treatment. It is the Jews who

persecute him and work up difficulties against him, because to them he

is a renegade and is weaning away their people. To the philosophers at

Athens he appears as the preacher of a new philosophy, and they think

him a "smatterer" in such subjects. To the Roman he is a man charged

by a certain community with being dangerous to social order, to wit,

causing factious disturbances and profaning the temple; and since he

refuses to let the local authorities judge his case, and has exercised

his citizen privilege by appealing to Caesar, to Caesar he is sent.

And, when a prisoner in somewhat free custody at Rome, note that he is

permitted to speak "with all freedom," and that in the first instance

he is acquitted.

True, but the fact remains that Nero burnt Christians in his gardens

after the great fire of Rome, and that certain later emperors are

found punishing Christians merely for avowing themselves such. Why was

Christianity thus singled out? It was not through what can be

reasonably called "religious intolerance," for, as has been said, the

Romans did not seek to force Roman religion on other peoples nor did

they make any inquisition into the beliefs of Romans themselves. The

reasons for singling out Christianity for special treatment are

obvious enough. The question is not whether the reasons were sound,

whether the Romans properly understood or tried to understand, whether

they could be as wise before the event as we are after it, but whether

the motive was what we should call a "religious" one. To allow

Epicureans to deny the existence of gods at all, and to make scornful

concessions to the peculiar tenets of Jews, could not be the action of

a people which was bigoted. If there was bigotry and intolerance, it

was political or social bigotry and intolerance, not religious. To

prevent any possible misconception let the present writer say here

that he considers the principles of Christianity, as laid down by its

Founder and as spread by St. Paul, to have been the most humanizing

and civilising influence ever brought to bear upon society. But that

is not the point. The early Christians were treated as they were, not

because they held non-Roman views, but because they held anti-Roman

views; not because they did not believe in Jupiter and Venus, but

because they refused to let any one else believe in them; not because

they threatened to weaken Roman faith, but because they threatened to

weaken and even to wreck the whole fabric of Roman society; not

because they were known to be heretics, but because they were supposed

to be disloyal; not because they converted men, but because they

appeared to convert them into dangerous characters. As it has been

put, the Christians were regarded as the "Nihilists" of the period. We

are apt to judge the Romans from the standpoint of Christianity

dominant and understood; it is fairer to judge them from the

standpoint of a dominant pagan empire looking on at a strange new

phenomenon altogether misunderstood and often deliberately

misrepresented. Moreover--and the point is worth more attention than

it commonly receives--we have only to read the Epistles to the

Corinthians, to perceive that the early Christian gatherings were by

no means always such meek, pure, and model assemblages as they are

almost always assumed to have been. Some of the members, for instance,

quarrelled and "were drunken." There were evidently many unworthy

members of the new communion, and of course there were also many

manifestations of insulting bigotry on their part. The class of

society to which the Christians belonged was closely associated in the

Roman mind with the rabble and the slave, if not with criminals. What

the pagan observer saw in the new religion was "a pestilent

superstition," "hatred of the human race," "a malevolent

superstition." He thought its practices to be connected with magic.

The _intransigeant_ Christian refused to take the customary oath in

the law courts, and therefore appeared to menace a trustworthy

administration of the law. He took no interest in the affairs of the

empire, but talked of another king and his coming kingdom, and he

appeared to be an enemy to the Roman power. He held what appeared to

be secret meetings, although the empire rigidly suppressed all secret

societies. He weakened the martial spirit of the soldier. He divided

families--the basis of Roman society--against themselves. He was a

socialist leveller. He threatened with ruin all the trades connected

with either the established worship--as amongst the silversmiths at

Ephesus--or with the luxuries and amusements of life. Those amusements

in circus or amphitheatre he hated, and therefore appeared

misanthropic. He not only stood aloof from the religious observances

of the state and the household, but treated them with contempt or

abhorrence.

Moreover, at this date, he refused to acknowledge the one great symbol

of the imperial authority. This was the statue of the emperor. When

that statue was set up in every town it was not understood by any

intelligent man that the emperor was actually a god, or that, when

incense was burnt before the statue, it was being burned to the

emperor himself as deity. But just as every householder had his

attendant "Genius"--the power determining his vital functions and

well-being--which was often represented as a bust with the man's own

features, so the statue of the Augustus, "His Highness," represented

the Genius of that Head of the State, and the offering of incense was

meant as an appeal to the Genius to keep the emperor and the imperial

power "in health and wealth long to live." The man who refused to make

such an offering was necessarily considered to be ill-disposed to the

majesty and welfare of the Head of the State, and therefore of the

state itself. The Roman attitude towards the early Christians was

partly that of a modern government towards Nihilists, and partly that

of a generation or two ago to a blend of extreme Radical with extreme

atheist.

We are not here concerned with the whole story of the persecution of

the Christians, but only with the situation at and immediately after

the date we have chosen. It is at least quite certain that when Nero

burned the Christians in the year 64 he was treating them, not as the

adherents of a religion, but as social criminals or nuisances. How far

his notions of Christianity may have been influenced by Poppaea we do

not know. At least he believed he was pleasing the populace.

CHAPTER XX

STUDY AND SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE AMONG THE ROMANS

In describing the education of a Roman youth, and also in setting

forth the various religious attitudes of the time, mention has been

made of the pursuit of philosophy. Religion supplied no real guide to

moral conduct, and education provided little exercise for the

cultivation of the higher intellectual faculties. It was left for

philosophy to fill these blanks as best it could. Unlike the Greeks,

the Romans, great as they were in law-making and administration, had

little natural gift or taste for abstract thought. All the philosophic

sects had been founded and continued by Greeks, and it was still to

the Greek half of the empire that the contemporary world looked for

the best schools and teachers of philosophy. The genuine Roman spirit

at all times felt some mistrust of such studies, especially if they

tended to carry the student away from practical life into the "shade"

and the "corner," or if they tended to subvert the traditional notions

of "duty" as inculcated by Roman law, Roman custom, and the religion

of the state. Nevertheless, not only did many Romans, even of mature

years, resort to the philosophic "Universities" of the time, but

wealthy houses often maintained a domestic philosopher, whose business

it was to supply moral teaching and intellectual companionship to his

employer. Some, indeed, preferred merely a _savant_, who might "post"

them with information concerning Greek writers, explain difficulties,

and act in general as a literary _vade mecum_. In many cases, if not

in most, the Roman aristocrat or plutocrat treated such a retainer as

a social inferior.

The Roman attitude towards thought and learning too often reminds one

of a certain modern type which has been irreverently described as

being "death on culture." While the Greek and graecized oriental loved

research, discussion, dialectics, ethical and scientific conversation,

and literary coteries for their own sake, the Roman more commonly

regarded such things as means for sharpening his abilities and for

imparting distinction in social intercourse. Doubtless there were, and

had been, exceptions. No Greek philosopher could be more in earnest

than Lucretius, the Roman poet of the later republic, and doubtless

there were no few Romans unknown to fame who both grappled seriously

with Greek philosophy and also endeavoured to carry it religiously

into practice. Yet for the most part the Roman, even when he is a

writer upon such subjects, carries with him the unmistakable air of

the amateur or the dilettante. In reading Seneca, as in reading

Cicero, we feel that we are dealing with an able man possessed of an

excellent gift for popular exposition or essay-writing, but hardly

with a man of original philosophic endeavour or of strong practical

conviction. And when we read the letters of the younger Pliny, we

perceive a genuine admiration for men of thought and a genuine liking

for "things of the mind," but we also discern that his dealing with

philosophers and philosophy is strictly such as he deems "fit for a

gentleman."

In his own way and for his own ends the Roman could be intensely

studious. He was eager to know and to possess information; but his

native taste was for information of a positive kind, for definite

facts more or less encyclopaedic--the facts of history, of science, of

art, of literature, or even of grammar. His natural bent was not

towards pure speculation. The elder Pliny was in his prime in the

later days of Nero, and though he is perhaps an extreme type, he is

nevertheless a type worth contemplating. His nephew writes a letter to

a friend in which he gives a formidable list of works which the uncle

had written or rather compiled, culminating in that huge miscellany

known as his _Natural History_--a book dealing, not only with

geography, anthropology, physiology, zoology, botany, mineralogy, but

also with fine art. How did he lead the ordinary Roman official life

and yet accomplish all this before he was fifty-six? Here is the

explanation. "He had a keen intellect, incredible zeal, and the

greatest capacity for wakefulness. The end of August had not come

before he began to work by lamplight long before dawn; in winter he

began as early as one or two o'clock in the morning. It is true that

he could readily command sleep, which visited and left him even during

his studies. Before daylight he used to go to the emperor

Vespasian--who also worked before day--and thence to his appointed

duty. Returning home he gave the remainder of his time to his studies.

After his _dejeuner_--which, like any other food that he took in the

daytime, was light and digestible in the old-fashioned style--if it

was summer, some leisure moments were spent in lying in the sun; a

book was read, and he marked passages or made extracts. He never read

anything without making excerpts, for he used to say that no book was

so bad as to contain no part that was useful. After sunning himself he

generally took a cold bath. He then took a snack and a very brief

siesta, subsequently reading till dinner-time as if it were a new day.

During dinner a book was read and marked, all very rapidly. I recall

an occasion on which a certain passage had been badly delivered by his

reader, whereupon one of the company stopped him and made him read it

again. Said my uncle, 'I suppose you had caught the meaning?' The

friend nodded. 'Then why did you call him back? We have lost more than

ten lines by this interruption of yours.' So economical was he of

time. In summer he rose from dinner while it was still light, and in

winter within an hour after dark, as if compelled by some law. Such

was his day amid all his work and the roar of the city. But when on

holiday the only time he was not I studying was bath-time. By bath I

mean when he I was actually right inside; for while he was under

scraper and towel he would be read to or dictate. When travelling he

thought of nothing else: at his side was a shorthand writer with a

book and his tablets. In winter the writer's hands were protected by

mittens, so that not even the sharpness of the weather should rob him

of a moment. For the same reason even at Rome he used to ride in a

sedan-chair (and not in a litter). I remember how he once took me to

task for walking. Said he, 'You need not have wasted these hours;' for

he considered as wasted all hours not spent upon study. It was by

application like this that he completed all those volumes and also

left to me a hundred and sixty note-books full of selections, written

in very small hand on both sides of the paper. He used himself to say

that, when he was the emperor's financial agent in Spain, he could

have sold these note-books to Largius Licinus for L3000, and at that

time they were considerably less numerous." ... "And so," writes the

nephew, "I always laugh when certain people call _me_ studious, for,

compared to him, I am a most indolent person."

And yet what does this "most indolent person" himself do in the course

of a lifetime? After a complete oratorical education of the typical

Roman kind he enters upon a full public career. He undergoes his

minimum military service with the legions in Syria. He returns to Rome

and passes right up to the consulship, acquiring particular ability in

connection with the Treasury. Often he acts as adviser to other

officers. Apart from his public position he is a pleader before the

courts. He takes a prominent part in the debates of the senate. He

belongs to one of the priestly bodies. He does his share in providing

the public games. He is appointed "Minister for the regulation of the

Tiber and of the Sewerage." He is afterwards made governor of

Bithynia, which has fallen into financial disorder and requires

reorganisation. He possesses numerous estates and has many tenants to

deal with. He writes speeches, occasional poems, and a large number of

letters carefully phrased with a view to publication. His social or

complimentary duties are numerous and exacting. One day he goes out

hunting wild boar on one of his estates, and kills three of them. How,

think you, does he pass the time while the beaters are driving the

animals towards the net? He is thinking up a subject and making notes,

and actually finds the silence and solitude helpful. He concludes his

short letter on the subject by advising his friend "when you go

hunting, take my advice and carry your writing-tablets as well as your

luncheon-basket and flask: you will find that Minerva roams the hills

no less than Diana." Pliny the Younger is writing, it is true, a

generation after Nero, but there had been no appreciable change in

Roman intellectual tastes during that short interval.

The Roman may have had little inclination towards abstract thinking,

but he was not an idle-minded man. Even the emperors often cultivated

the muse. Nero we have seen, wrote verses, while his predecessor

Claudius bore a strangely near resemblance to our own James I., not

only in respect of his weakness of character, but also of his

pretensions to erudition and authorship. We can hardly read the

literature of this and the next half-century without being amazed at

the number of names of writers who gained or sought some share of

repute, although few of them have left works important enough to have

been kept alive till now. It is true that through all the writing of

this time there runs what has been called the "falsetto" note, a fact

which is due partly to the absence of live national questions or the

freedom to discuss them, and partly to the false principles of the

rhetorical training already described. The general desire was to show

cleverness, wide reading, and information; there was no impulse to

great creation or to exhibitions of profound feeling. Epigram and

"point" are no less compassed in the overstrained epic of Lucan, and

in the philosophic essays of Seneca, than in the satires of Persius.

It is probable that what have been called intellectual "interests"

were never more widely spread than in the _pax Romana_ of the first

and second centuries A.D. We gather from literature that books

innumerable were produced on subjects often as special and minute as

those selected for a German thesis, and that almost every town worth

the name, at least in the Greek-speaking part of the empire, produced

an author of sorts. But when we look into the symposia or chat of

Plutarch or Aulus Gellius, we cannot fail to note that a large

proportion of this intellectual and literary activity was being

frittered away on questions either stereotyped and threadbare, or of

no appreciable utility either to knowledge or conduct. As for

dilettante production at Rome itself Pliny remarks in one letter:

"This year has produced a large crop of poets: there was scarcely a

day in the whole month of April on which some one did not give a

reading." During the generation into which Nero was born and that

which followed him, we meet with no great creative work in either

prose or poetry, no great contribution to the progress of science or

thought. The most generally interesting writer of the whole period was

the Greek Plutarch, but though the _Parallel Lives_ which he was

preparing are immortal in their kind, and though his _Moral Essays_

are often most excellent reading, it cannot be said that he is a

profound original thinker or a creator of anything more than a taking

literary form. Next to him in value, earlier in date, stands Seneca,

who, like Plutarch, is a lively thinker and a deft essayist, with the

same love for a quotation and the same wide interests, but assuredly

not a considerable enlarger of the field of human thought. To those

who know Montaigne, the best notion of Seneca and Plutarch will be

formed by remembering that his essays are admitted by himself to be

"wholly compiled of what I have borrowed from them." The elder Pliny

supplies us with extracts and summaries of the knowledge or the

notions then extant, and we have writings on agriculture by Columella.

The youthful and rather awkward satirist Persius sees the life which

he criticises rather through the medium of books than through his own

eyes. Such works of the period as have gained any kind of immortality

are certainly interesting and often instructive, but they indicate a

period in which reading is chiefly cultivated amusement, and knowledge

rather sought as a pastime and an accomplishment than as a power. The

favourite reading must contain matter or sense, not too deep or

exacting; and it must possess a style. Perhaps writers as various as

Dryden, Pope, Horace Walpole, Samuel Johnson, De Quincey, Macaulay,

or, on a lower platform, the authors of collections like the

_Curiosities of Literature_ would have been quite at home in this

period: but it would have produced no Shakespeare, Milton, or

Wordsworth. The agreeable poem, the well-expressed essay, are the

approved reading for men of indolent bent: the informative collection

for the more curious, serious, or practical-minded. If the early

empire is "despotism tempered by epigram," it is perhaps not

altogether untrue that the contemporary literature was pedantry

tempered by epigram, or at least by quotation.

Science, though its matter was attractive enough to the practical

Roman, was at a standstill. So far as it existed it was Greek. The

Greeks had done almost all that could be done by sheer brain-power and

acumen. They could hardly proceed further without those finer

instruments which we possess, but which they did not. Though they knew

of certain magnifying glasses, they had no real telescopes or

microscopes, no mariner's compass or chronometers, no very delicate

balances. They possessed a magnificent thinking apparatus and put it

to admirable use. The modern scientist has generally nothing but

admiration for their keen insight, and for the brilliant hypotheses

which they invented and which were frequently but unverified

anticipations or partial anticipations of theories now in vogue. Where

they stopped short was at experiment in test of hypothesis. Of all

exploits of pure thinking in the domain of science perhaps the

greatest has been the conception that the earth, instead of being a

flat disk, is a sphere. This theory was held before the age of Nero by

ancient astronomers and geographers, who had derived the notion partly

from the eclipses of the moon--of which they well understood the

cause--and partly from the rising of objects above the horizon. They

understood also that in a sphere there was gravitation to the centre,

and were able so to comprehend the level surface of water on the

globe. The geographer Strabo, more than a generation before our chosen

date, readily conceives that, if one sailed straight westward out of

the Mediterranean through the Straits of Gibraltar, he would

ultimately come back round the world by way of the East--that is to

say, by India. It was not left for Columbus to invent that doctrine.

It is true that in calculating the circumference of the earth they had

made it as much as one-seventh too large, but the wonder is that they

came so near as they did. In regard to the distance of the moon they

were not more than 1/12th from the modern estimate. The possibility of

error in dealing with the sun was much greater, and their 51,000,000

miles is little more than half of what it should have been. Exactly

how far this doctrine of the sphericity of the earth was popularly

entertained we cannot tell; it was probably almost confined to those

directly interested in the question. A theory, anticipating Galileo,

that it is the earth which moves round the sun, had been mooted, but

certainly had very little currency. Nor was speculation confined to

such astronomical conclusions. In the region of physical geography

rational attempts were made to account for various phenomena, such as

the existence of deltas or the risings of the Nile, or the appearance

of sea-shells high on dry land. Strabo, in dealing with the Black Sea,

has his theories of the elevation or subsidence of land. He also

suggests previous volcanic conditions of certain districts which had

been quiescent from before the memory or tradition of the inhabitants.

[Illustration: FIG. 113.--WORLD AS CONCEIVED ABOUT A.D. 100.]

Sound methods of discovering latitude and longitude were not yet in

use, and therefore a map of the world according to ideas current in

the first century would present a strange aspect to us. There is much

error in the placing of towns or districts upon their parallels; and

coasts or mountain ranges, particularly, of course, on the outskirts

of the empire or in the less familiar lands beyond its bounds, are

perhaps made to run north instead of north-west, or east instead of

south-east. It follows that measurements of distances especially

across the wider seas, were often very inaccurate, although within and

about the Mediterranean there was so much traffic and such close

observation of the stars that the errors were gradually reduced. The

mariner, when he did not follow the coast and guide his course by

familiar landmarks, steered by the stars, but of these he had a very

intimate knowledge, to which he joined a close observation of the

prevailing direction of the winds at the various seasons. There was a

well-ordered system of lighthouses, and charts and mariners' guides

were not wanting. In the winter months navigation over long distances

was regularly suspended, and ships waited in port for the spring.

So far as acquaintance with the world was concerned, we have

sufficient evidence that the trader knew his way very well down the

African coast as far as Zanzibar, and along the southern shores of

Asia as far as Cape Comorin. With Ceylon his acquaintance was vague,

and only by tradition did he know of Further India by way of the sea

and of China by way of the land. In the interior of Africa the

caravans reached the Oases, and by way of Nile or caravan there was

trade with the Soudan. Outside the Straits of Gibraltar, the Canary

Islands and Madeira--known indiscriminately as the "Fortunate Isles,"

or "Isles of the Blest"--were in touch with the port of Cadiz. The

shape of Great Britain beyond England was indefinite, although it was

known to be an island, with the Shetlands lying beyond. Ireland was

also recognised as an island and its relative size was not greatly

misconceived. The chief misconception in this corner of Europe was

that of orientation, Britain being placed either far too near or far

too parallel to Spain (through a large error as to the shape of the

Bay of Biscay). Meanwhile the coast of the Netherlands and Germany was

made to run in a line much too closely parallel to the eastern shores

of Britain. Scandinavia was known from navigating explorers and from

the amber trade, but was commonly regarded as a large island.

Knowledge of the Baltic did not extend beyond about the modern Riga,

and of the whole region thence to the Caspian only the dimmest notions

were entertained.

From what has been said concerning the calculation of the earth's

diameter and of the distances of the sun and moon, it may be readily

understood that the ancient mathematician had arrived at great

proficiency in the geometrical branch of mathematics. This should

cause no surprise when we remember what is meant by "Euclid." That

eminent genius had lived at Alexandria three centuries and a half

before the age of Nero, and he by no means represents all that was

known of such mathematics at the latter date. The ancients were quite

sufficiently versed in the solution of triangles to have made the

necessary calculations in geography and astronomy, if they had but

possessed the right instruments. Perhaps only an expert should

deal--even in the few sentences required for our purpose--with such

matters as the calculation of the capacity and proportional relations

of cylinders, or with the mechanics and hydrostatics of Archimedes.

That philosopher so far understood the laws of applied force that he

had boasted: "Give me a place to stand on and I will move the world."

What he and others had learned concerning fluid pressure, or

concerning pulleys, levers, and other mechanical devices, had not been

lost by the Greeks and had been borrowed from them for full practical

use by the Romans. They knew how to lift huge weights, and how to hurl

heavy missiles by the artillery previously mentioned. Experiments had

been made at Alexandria in the use of steam-power, but had led to

nothing practical. It is obvious also from their buildings and works

of engineering, even without explicit statement, that they well

understood the distribution of weight and the laws of stability. The

laws of acoustics were understood with sufficient clearness to make

them applicable with success to theatres. In practical mensuration--a

daily necessity for men who were perpetually allotting lands or

marking out camps--the Romans were experts. In pure arithmetic the

contemporary world had made some considerable advance, such as in the

extraction of square-roots and cube-roots; but, as has been already

said, the Roman interest was virtually confined to such arithmetic or

mathematics as appeared to possess some bearing on actual use.

Of chemistry, in the modern scientific sense, the ancients knew almost

nothing. Empirically they were aware of certain properties exhibited

by substances, and could perform certain manipulations; but, like

moderns down to a very recent time, they had no real understanding of

the quantitative or qualitative relations of elements. Long ago Greek

philosophy, followed by the Epicurean school, had set forth an "atomic

theory," which on the surface is surprisingly like the modern chemical

hypothesis; but this contained strange and illogical features and had

no connection with actual practice. In this department the chief

proficiency of the world of this date lay in metallurgy, in which the

processes empirically discovered, chiefly by Egyptians and

Phoenicians, were closely similar to those now employed. They

thoroughly understood the smelting of ores, but could render no

scientific account of the processes. Botany was in a very crude

condition, scarcely extending beyond such knowledge as was required on

the one hand for farming and horticulture, and on the other for the

vegetable medicines used by contemporary physicians.

The doctoring of the time was also, of course, largely empirical, but

assuredly hardly more so than it was a century or so ago, and

distinctly more rational than it became in the Middle Ages. We cannot

conceive of a reputable doctor at Rome prescribing the nauseous

mediaeval absurdities. Practical surgery must have been surprisingly

advanced, and there is scarcely a modern surgeon who does not exclaim

in admiration of the instruments discovered at Pompeii and now

preserved in the Naples Museum (see FIG. 69). In physic it is, of

course, tolerably certain that many of the remedies or methods of

treatment were of the sound and simple kind discovered by the long

experience of mankind and often put in use by our grandmothers.

The defect contemporary medicine was that it was almost wholly

empirical. The ancient surgeon could doubtless perform ordinary

operations--amputations and excisions--with neatness, and the ancient

physician knew perfectly well what to do with the ordinary

complaints--the fevers and agues, the bilious attacks, the gout, or

the dropsy--but he was baffled by any new conditions. Moreover, if he

could diagnose and cure, he could seldom prevent, inasmuch as he had

little understanding of the causes of maladies. He had everything to

learn in regard to sanitation and the preventing of infection. A

plague would sometimes kill half the people in a town or district, and

the loss of 30,000 persons in the metropolis would probably appear to

most Romans as a visitation of the gods, nor is it certain that the

doctors would generally disagree with that view. Though there were

many quacks, it is not the case that the reputable medical men--most

of them Greek, some of them Romans, who borrowed a Greek name because

it "paid"--lacked the scientific spirit or such knowledge as the time

afforded. They went to the medical school at Alexandria or elsewhere,

and studied their treatises on physic and anatomy, but, at least in

the latter subject, they were sadly hampered. Dissection of human

bodies was forbidden by law as being a desecration of the dead, and

though it might sometimes be practised _sub rosa_, it was the general

custom to perform the dissections on other animals, particularly

monkeys, and to argue thence erroneously to mankind.

CHAPTER XXI

PHILOSOPHY--STOICS AND EPICUREANS

With such an unsatisfactory equipment of science, and with such a

vague and morally inoperative religion, it was no wonder that the

higher minds of the contemporary world turned to the study of

philosophy. Of such studies there had been many schools or sects, but

at this date we have chiefly to reckon with two--the Stoics and

Epicureans. There were, it is true, the Academics, who disputed

everything, and held no doctrine to be more true than its contrary.

There were Eclectics, who picked and chose. But the majority of those

who affected a positive philosophy attached themselves either to the

Stoic or else to the Epicurean system, not necessarily with orthodox

rigidity on every point, but as a general guide--at least in

theory--to the conduct of life. Where we belong to a certain religious

denomination or church, and "sit under" a certain class of preachers,

they belonged to a certain school of philosophy, and attended the

lectures of certain of its expounders. Instead of a chaplain or parish

clergyman they engaged or associated with an expert in their special

system. But just as the Frenchman remarked, "_Je suis catholique, mais

je ne pratique pas_," so might one be in principle a good Stoic

without much exercise of the accepted doctrines. The distinction

between the tenets of the two great schools was wide, but within each

school itself individuals might differ as widely as "Broad Church"

from whatever its opposite may be called. The choice between the two

schools was mainly a matter of temperament. Persons of the sterner

type of mind, caring comparatively little for the physical comforts

and gracious amenities of life, and possessed of a strong sense of

duty and decorum--inclined, perhaps, not only to piety and

self-abnegation, but also to be somewhat dour and uncompromising--were

naturally attracted to Stoicism. Those of the complementary character

preferred the doctrines of Epicurus. The Stoics were the Pharisees,

the Epicureans the Sadducees, of pagan philosophy. As the Pharisees

were the most Hebraic of the Hebrews, so it was Stoicism that came to

be the characteristic Roman creed. The ordinary Roman had been brought

up in the tradition of obeying the law of the state and the claims of

duty; he had high notions of personal dignity and a leaning to the

heroic virtues. Give him a strong, consistent, and elevating religion

and he would be normally a pious man. Stoicism supplied him with a

standard which was in keeping with such tendencies. About Epicureanism

there was nothing heroic or elevating.

Put briefly, and therefore crudely, the Epicurean doctrine was that

happiness is the end of life. What men seek, and have a right to seek,

is the most pleasant existence. Our conduct should secure for us as

much real pleasure as possible. Now at first sight this looks like

what it was opprobriously called by its enemies, "the philosophy of

the pig-sty." It by no means meant this to its founder. For what is

"pleasure"? Not by any means necessarily the gratification of the

moment, physical or otherwise. A present pleasure may mean future

pain, either of body or of mind. Wrong actions and bestial enjoyments

bring their own penalty. You must choose wisely, and so direct your

life that you suffer least and enjoy most consistently. Temperance and

wisdom are therefore virtues necessary to a true Epicurean. You desire

health; therefore you will live, as Epicurus lived, on simple and

wholesome food. You desire tranquillity or peace of mind; therefore

you will abstain from all perverse acts and gratifications, desires

and emotions, which disturb that peace. In short the thing to be

sought is nothing else but this grateful composure of mind--a thing

which you cannot have if you are always wanting this or that and

either abusing or misusing your bodily or mental functions, or

needlessly mortifying yourself. To the plain man this apparently meant

"Take life easily and keep free of worry." Naturally the plain man's

ideas of taking life easily became those of taking pleasures as they

come, indolently accepting the agreeables of life and feeling no call

to make much of its duties. It is all very well for a high-minded

philosopher to avoid a pleasure in order to avoid its pain, and to

realize that a pleasure of the mind is worth more than a pleasure of

the body, but one cannot expect the ordinary pupil--the _homme moyen

sensuel_--to comprehend this attitude with heartiness sufficient to

put it into practice. It followed therefore that the Epicurean tended,

not only to become lazy, but to become vicious, or to make light of

vices. This was not indeed true Epicureanism, and Epicurus is not to

blame for it; it simply shows that Epicureanism, whatever its logical

or other merits, provided no sufficient stimulus to a right life. As

regards theology the position of the school was that there might very

well be such things as higher beings--there was nothing in physical

philosophy to make them any more impossible than a man or a fish--but

that, if they existed, they were not concerned with man's affairs; his

moral conduct, like his sacrifices and prayers, was not matter for

their consideration. No need, therefore, to let superstition worry

you, or to trouble about future punishment. Conduct your life

according to the same principles laid down, and let the gods--if there

be any--look to themselves. Naturally the result of such a position is

that ceasing to regard the gods means ceasing to believe in them, and,

as a Roman writer says: "In theory it leaves us the gods, in practice

it abolishes them."

The other school--that of the Stoics--is perhaps less easily

comprehended, nor can it be said that its doctrines were always quite

so coherent. Again we may put the position briefly, and therefore,

perhaps, only approximately. The rule of life is to live as "nature"

directs. Nature has its laws, which you cannot disobey with impunity.

The law of nature is the mind of God. The material universe is the

body, God is its soul, and He directs the workings of nature with

foreknowledge and perfect wisdom. If man can only be brought to act in

strict accordance with the mind of God--or law of nature--he is sure

of perfect well-being, because he can do nothing as it should not be

done. If he can only arrive at such perfect operation of his mental

processes, he will necessarily be the perfect speaker, the perfect

ruler, the perfect craftsman, the perfect performer of every task,

including the securing of his own happiness. Doubtless this is logical

enough, but how is one to attain to such right mental operations, and

to become what was called a "sage"? Only by acting always according to

reason and not according to passion. That and that alone is "virtue."

The divine mind is not swayed by passion--by hope, fear, exultation,

or grief--but only and always by reason. Learn therefore to obey

reason and reason only. Do not permit yourself to be drawn from the

true path by fear of threats, even of death, nor by grief, even for

your dearest friends. Such feelings warp your reason, distract

your judgment, and deflect you from the right course. When

passion--feeling--comes in conflict with reason, you must drive

feeling away. Your reason may not always be right; nevertheless it is

the best guide you have, and you must cultivate it to act as rightly

as possible. Remember that the power to act in accordance with the

divine mind--the law of nature--lies in your own will; things external

have nothing to do with that straight-forward proceeding--they cannot

help you, and you must not let them hinder you. The condition of your

mind is everything; as long as its operation is right, you are living

in the right way. Your mind may act as rightly in poverty as in

riches; you may be equally wise and virtuous whether you have the

external advantages or not. You must therefore learn to ignore these

things--pain, grief, fear, joy, and all the other perturbing

influences. Cultivate, therefore, right reason and the absence of

emotions.

This, you will say, is a very high, unattainable, if not inhuman,

standard. Quite so, and therefore, while Epicureanism often produced

vicious men, this often produced pretenders and even hypocrites.

Nevertheless it is better to set oneself a high standard than a low

one, and a Roman who endeavoured to control himself by reason, and to

place himself above fear and pain, was thereby on the way to be brave,

patient, truthful, and just. Those who would see what high character

could be associated with Stoicism--whether as the result or as the

motive of the choice of the school--should read Epictetus, whose text,

written early in the next century, was "sustain and abstain," and also

the great-minded gentle Emperor Marcus Aurelius. A logical outcome of

Stoicism was that you should say only the thing which reason approved,

and say it unafraid. A good republican virtue, this, but under the

emperors a dangerous one, as an honest Stoic like Thrasea found out.

In practice there was naturally much qualifying or mellowing of the

rigid Stoic attitude: the exigencies of actual life had to be met part

of the way, and both Greek and Roman Stoics were often only Stoics in

part--the complete "sage" was of course impossible.

As for the gods, it is obvious that the Stoics were pantheists; there

was one God, and He was the soul of the universe. They also, of

course, recognised His providence. What then of the gods of the state?

Some did not attempt to discuss them. Others treated the various

so-called separate deities in the list as being only so many

manifestations or avatars of the same divine power, and whether they

were content or not with that attempt at harmonisation, who shall say?

Meanwhile, at least in the eastern part of the empire, you might meet

with another type of philosopher, the Cynic, belonging to the same

school as the famous Diogenes, who had lived in that large earthenware

jar commonly known as his "tub." Like the Stoic, the Cynic held that

externals were of no value, and therefore he contented himself with a

piece of bread, a wallet full of beans, and a jug of water. Like the

Stoic, he believed in perfect freedom of speech, and therefore he

spoke loudly and often abusively of all and sundry who appeared to him

to deserve it. Some such men doubtless were sincere enough, like the

earlier hermits or preaching friars, but many of them were simply idle

and virulent impostors who thoroughly deserved that name of the "dog"

which was commonly given to them, and which came to designate their

school.

The mention of impostors and hypocrites brings us naturally to a point

which may have been foreseen. To the ancient world the professional

philosophers were the nearest approach to our professional clergy.

They affected an appearance accordingly; and the philosopher was

regularly known by his long beard, his coarse cloak, and his staff.

But, alas! there were many who disgraced their cloth. There were Stoic

teachers who practised all manner of secret vices, and whose behaviour

was in outrageous contradiction to their creed of the "absence of

emotions." There were not only many Honeymans, there were many

Stigginses. There were idlers and vagabonds on a level with the

mendicant friars and pardon-sellers of the time of Chaucer. There were

pompous hypocrites. Also side by side with the serious and earnest

philosopher, as deeply learned in the books of his sect as a modern

divine, there were charlatans and dabblers. It is unfortunately in

this last light that the Apostle Paul appeared to the professional

Stoic and Epicurean teachers of Athens. They were the finished

products of the philosophic schools of the most famous universities,

while he was supposed by them to be teaching some new kind of

philosophy. Philosophers were apt to be itinerant, and St. Paul was

looked upon as but another of these new arrivals. In his language they

detected what seemed to be borrowed notions not consistently bound

together, and they therefore called him by a name which it is not easy

to translate. Literally it is "a picker up of seeds"--that is to say,

a sciolist who gathers scraps from profounder people and gives them

out with an air. Perhaps the nearest, although an undignified, word is

"quack." That Paul possessed a knowledge of Greek philosophy, and

particularly of Stoicism, is practically certain. He came from Tarsus

in Cilicia, and Cilicia was the native home of many leading Stoics,

including its greatest representative in all antiquity. He had been

taught by Gamaliel, who was versed in "the learning of the Greeks."

His address at Athens was deliberately meant to bear a relation to the

philosophy of the experts who were present, but necessarily it could

only introduce a few salient allusions, such as even a dabbler could

have picked up, and we can hardly blame the specialists for their

erroneous judgment. As he says himself: "The Greeks demand philosophy;

but we proclaim a Messiah crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block,

and to the Greeks a folly."

To discuss further the moral ideas of the Roman world would consume

more space and time than can be afforded here. It may, however, be

worth while to mention that suicide was commonly--and especially by

the Stoics--looked upon as a natural and blameless thing, when calm

reason appeared to justify the proceeding, and when due consideration

was given to social claims. To seek a euthanasia in such cases was an

act of wisdom. Belief in an underworld or an after life was not rare

among the common people, but it certainly did not exist in any force

among the cultivated classes. It was taught neither by philosophy nor

by the religion of the state. Yet the sense that rewards or

punishments are unfairly meted out in this world was strong in many a

mind, and this is one of the facts which account for the hold taken

upon such minds, first by the religion of Isis, and then in a still

greater and more abiding measure by Christianity.

CHAPTER XXII

THE ROMAN PROFUSION OP ART

[Illustration: FIG. 114.--THE DYING GAUL.]

[Illustration: FIG. 115.--A "CANDELIERA" OR MARBLE PILASTER OF THE

BASILICA AEMILIA.]

[Illustration: FIG. 116.--FRAGMENTS OF THE ARCHITECTURE OF THE REGIA.]

It would be a more than agreeable task to deal at some length with the

art of the Roman world of this period, but the subject is vast, and

demands a treatise to itself. How general was the love of art--or at

least the recognition of its place in life--must be obvious to those

who have seen the great collections in Rome, gathered partly from the

city itself and partly from the towns and country "villas" of Italy,

and those in the National Museum at Naples, acquired mainly from the

buried cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Nor are we amazed merely at

the quantity of statues, statuettes, busts, reliefs, paintings, mosaic

gems and cameos, and artistically wrought objects and utensils, which

have been preserved while so many thousands of such productions have

disappeared in the conflagrations of Rome, the vandalisms of the

ignorant, or the kilns and melting-pots of the Middle Ages. The

quality is still more a source of delight than the quantity. This last

sentence, of course, contains a truism, since art is no delight

without high quality. If we had only preserved to us such masterpieces

as the Capitoline Venus, the Dying Gaul, the Laocoon, the Dancing

Faun, the so-called Narcissus, and the Resting Mercury, we should

realise something of the exquisite skill in plastic art which had been

attained in antiquity and has never been attained since. But we might

perhaps imagine that these were altogether exceptional pieces and the

choicest gems possessed by the world of the time. Yet the preservation

of these is but an accident, and there is no reason to believe them to

be more than survivals out of many equally excellent. On the contrary,

our ancient authorities--such as the elder Pliny--prove that there was

a multitude of similar creations contained in public buildings alone.

Pompeii, it has already been said more than once, was a provincial

town in no way distinguished for the high culture of its inhabitants;

yet there is scarcely a house of any consideration which has not

afforded some example of fine art in one form or another. We know that

several of the Roman temples--such as those of Concord in the Forum

and of Apollo on the Palatine--were veritable galleries of

masterpieces; and that the rich Romans adorned both their town houses

and country villas with dozens of statues, colossal, life-size, or

miniature, by distinguished masters. But still more striking is the

fact that the comparatively small homes of Pompeii often possessed a

work for which no price would now be too large, and of which we are

content even to obtain a tolerably good copy. At Herculaneum there

evidently lived persons of greater literary and artistic I refinement

than at Pompeii, and the discoveries from that only very partially

excavated town make an incalculably rich show of their own. What then

would be the case with Naples, Baiae, the resorts all along the coast

as far as the Tiber, the luxurious villas on the Alban Hills, and the

great metropolis itself?

Yet the fact of this universal recognition of art is scarcely made so

impressive by these collected specimens of perfect taste and perfect

execution, as it is incidentally by observing the delicate and

graceful finish of some moulding on a chance fragment from a building,

such as the Basilica Aemilia or the office of the Pontifex in the

Forum, or the exquisite chiselling of trailing ivy upon a cup from

Herculaneum (FIG. 56), or the dainty pattern wrought on no more

important a thing than a bucket (FIG. 58), or the graceful shape

imparted to a household lamp (FIG. 54). Water could hardly be

permitted to spout in a peristyle or garden without doing so from some

charming statuette, animal figure, or decorative mask or head. When

fine art is sought in things like these, we may guess how

uncompromisingly it was sought in things more avowedly "on show."

The age with which we have been dealing fell within the most

flourishing period of Roman, or rather Graeco-Roman, taste and

craftsmanship. A hundred years later both taste and execution were

declining, and by the age of Constantine--two centuries and a half

after Nero--not one artist could pretend to achieve such work as had

belonged to a multitude between the reigns of Augustus and Hadrian.

It is not indeed probable that, even at our date, the large and noble

simplicity of the older Greek masters could be rivalled. It is not

probable that most of the former creations of art still preserved

could have been wrought as originals by any Greek or Roman artist

living in the time of Nero. Nevertheless technical craftsmanship was

still superb, and while the contemporary artist could not create a

splendid original, he was at least able to create an almost perfect

copy. The Roman public buildings and private houses were enriched with

a host of such copies, or, when not exact copies, with modifications

which, though not improvements, were at least such as could not offend

by displaying a lack of technical mastery. Let us grant that it was

for the most part Greeks who were the artists; nevertheless the Greek

is an active member of the Roman world and of its metropolitan life,

and he executes his work to the order of the Roman state or the Roman

patron; and therefore the art of the time deserves to be called Roman

in that sense. There is little doubt that the Romans, if left to

themselves, would have developed only the solid, or the gorgeous, or

the baroque. But influences which penetrate a society are part of that

society, and the Greek influence accepted by the Roman becomes a Roman

principle.

Perhaps it is also true that many a Roman who possessed fine works of

art, and even exquisite ones, was not in reality a true connoisseur;

that, even if he were, he lacked instructive and ardent appreciation

of art for its own sake; and that, like his cultivation of

intellectual society or learning, his cultivation of art was rather

that of a man determined to be on a level with the culture of his

times. Nevertheless the fact is palpable, that the cultivation was

there, and was displayed in public architecture and in household

embellishment in a way which puts the modern world to shame. With us

art is a luxury for the few, and a keen enjoyment for still fewer; in

the age of Nero it penetrated the life of every class.

In architecture the native Roman gift was for the practical combined

with the massive and grandiose. The structures in which they

themselves excelled were the amphitheatre, the public baths, the

triumphal arch, the basilica, the bridge, and the aqueduct. Their

mastery of the arch, their excellent concrete, and their engineering

genius, enabled them to produce works in this kind which had had no

parallels in the Greek world. Nor had the Greeks felt the same need

for such buildings. They had been innocent of gladiatorial shows, and

they had been unfortunately too innocent of large conceptions in the

way of water-supply. When an amphitheatre or aqueduct of the Roman

kind was to be found in the graecized half of the empire, it was

constructed under Roman influence. The modern may well afford to

wonder at and envy the profusion of such structures in the ancient

world. How noble and at the same time how strong was the work of the

Romans when they undertook to supply even a provincial town with

abundant and adequate water, is manifest from such aqueducts as are

still to be seen at Nimes (FIG. 1) or at Segovia. In other

architectural conceptions the Romans of the time of Nero mainly

followed the Greek lead and employed Greek artists. The architectural

"orders" were Greek, with sundry Graeco-Roman modifications,

particularly in the way of more ornate or fantastic Corinthian

capitals; the notions of sculptural decoration were equally of

Hellenic origin. Their theatres also were of the Greek kind adapted in

non-essentials to the somewhat different conditions of a Roman

performance. The Greek taste in decoration was the simpler and purer:

the Roman cultivated the sumptuous and the ornate, sometimes, with

conspicuous success, often with an overloaded effect. As Friedlander

(who, however, deals with a much longer period than ours) puts the

matter: "Nowhere, least of all at Rome, was an important public

building erected without the chiseller, the stucco-worker, the carver,

the founder, the painter, and mosaic-maker being called in. Statues,

single or in groups, filled gables, roofs, niches, interstices of

columns, staircases in the temples, theatres, amphitheatres,

basilicas, public baths, bridges, arches, portals, and viaducts. . . .

Triumphal arches generally had at their summits equestrian figures,

trophies, chariots of four or six horses, driven by figures of

victory. Reliefs and medallions bedecked the frieze, and reliefs or

paintings the walls; ceilings were gay with stucco or coloured work,

and the floors with glittering mosaics. All the architectural

framework, supports, thresholds, lintels, mouldings, windows, and even

gutters were overloaded with decorative figures."

It was above all in plastic art that the contemporary world was

enormously rich. Not only could no public building dispense with such

decorations as those above mentioned; no private house of the least

pretensions was without its statues, busts, statuettes, carved

reliefs, and stucco-work. Never was statuary in marble or bronze so

plentiful in every part of the empire, in public squares, or in the

houses of representative people--in reception-hall, peristyle court,

garden, or colonnade. Portrait statues in the largest towns were to be

counted by hundreds, and sometimes by thousands. Men distinguished in

war, in letters, in public life, and in local benefactions were as

regularly commemorated by statues or busts as they are in modern times

by painted portraits. Sometimes--unlike the modern portraits of

course--these were paid for by the recipient of the compliment. In the

comparatively unimportant Forum of Pompeii there stood five colossal

statues, between seventy and eighty life-size equestrian statues, and

as many standing figures, while the public buildings surrounding this

open space contained their dozen or twenty each. As has been said

already, most of the best work in sculpture--apart from these bronze

and marble portraits of contemporaries--was reproduction of Grecian

masterpieces dating from the time of Pheidias onward. Particularly did

the Roman affect the more elaborate work of the period of the later

"Macedonian" kings. Where the actual work was not exactly copied it at

least supplied the main conception or motive. It followed naturally

that there would be in existence many copies of the same piece, and,

in procuring these, both the public and the householder would feel

relieved of any danger of betraying the wrong taste. The workshops or

studios of Greek artists turned out large numbers of a given

masterpiece--a Faun, a Venus, or a Discobolus--at prices from L50 or

so upwards. It followed also that there were numerous imitations

passed off as originals, and many a wealthy man boasted of possessing

an "original" or a genuine "old master"--a Praxiteles or a

Lysippus--when he owned but a clever reproduction. The same remark

applies, not only to the statues, but to the genre-groups and animal

forms of which such fine examples can be seen in the Vatican Museum,

and also to silver cups by "Mentor" or to bronzes of Corinth.

Petronius, the coarse but witty "arbiter of taste" under Nero, mocks

at the vulgar _nouveau riche_ who imagined that the Corinthian bronzes

were the work of an artist named Corinthus.

[Illustration: FIG. 117.--WALL-PAINTING. (Woman with Tablets.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 118.--WALL-PAINTING FROM HERCULANEUM. (Women

playing with Knuckle-Bones.)]

Next to sculpture came painting, and in this art Romans themselves

appear to have often acquired a technical skill which rivalled that of

the Greeks. There is also plenty of evidence that among the pictorial

artists there were no few women. For us practically the only painting

of the time which has been preserved is that upon the walls of private

houses, and it is probable that we see some of the worst specimens of

the kind as well as some of a high order of excellence. It is not

difficult to distinguish between the truly artistic design and

colouring of wall-pictures in the House of Vettii or of the "Tragic

Poet" and the crude journeyman work in sundry other Pompeian houses

which must have belonged to anything but connoisseurs. Paintings, it

must be remembered, were the ancient wall-papers, as well as the

ancient pictures. Here, as in sculpture, we find the same or similar

motives and groupings repeated in a way which shows that the

painter--or rather the collaborating painters--must have been

reproducing or adapting an original which was particularly admired or

had obtained a fashionable vogue. The wall-pictures, done in fresco or

distemper and in various dimensions, fall into four main classes.

There are landscapes, from a pretty realistic garden scene to a

fantastic stretch of sea and land diversified with woods, rocks,

figures, and buildings. There are subjects from mythology and from

poetical "history" or legend, chiefly representing "moments of

dramatic interest." There are genre-pictures, such as those of the

Cupids acting as goldsmiths, oil-dealers, or wine-merchants. Finally

there are pictures of still-life--of fishes, birds, fruits, and other

objects--often admirable in their kind. Serving as frame or setting to

many of the scenes there are architectural paintings--sometimes in

complicated but highly skilful perspective, but often extremely unreal

and confusing in conception--representing columns and pediments of

buildings. It must here suffice to offer one or two characteristic

examples out of the multitude of wall-paintings which have been found

(see also Figs. 43, 44).

Though Romans themselves, and even persons of standing, sometimes

dabbled in the fine arts, it is unquestionable that they commonly

regarded the professional artist as only a superior tradesman. They

admired his skill, but rendered little esteem to the man. A Roman

knight or a Roman lady might occasionally paint for pleasure; Nero

himself might model a figure or handle a brush; but so soon as art

ceased to be dilettante and became a calling, so soon as its work was

produced for payment, the artist ranked with other hirelings, however

superior he might be in kind. Seneca expresses an open contempt,

although he is perhaps, here as elsewhere, judging by a standard more

severe than that of his contemporaries in general. To some extent this

attitude is explained by the very abundance of objects of art, and by

the immense number of artists, now nameless, belonging to the period;

it is also to some extent excused by the fact that the craftsmanship,

however consummate, was not at this period accompanied by the

originality of the great Greek times from which it borrowed. Much of

the work--particularly perhaps in painting and metal-chasing--was done

by slaves. Apart from this consideration, the studios were so numerous

and taught so well, that there must have been thousands of persons

working either alone or co-operatively, whose position, however

excellent the performance, became analogous to that of a

house-decorator. On a wall to be painted in fresco a number of

painters would be employed together. Throughout the Roman world,

wherever works of art were wanted, the professional would travel,

often with his assistants, and take up a contract. In modern parlance,

the communities requiring some monument of art "called for tenders"

and were prone to accept the lowest.

Whatever abundance of art the Roman world cultivated and possessed;

however indispensable to a public place was a wealth of buildings with

lavish decoration of sculptured pillars, of statues, or of triumphal

arches; however necessary to a private house were originals, supposed

originals, and copies in the way of statuary, paintings, bronzes,

mosaics, and other means of artistic adornment; it is very doubtful

whether any large number of Romans entertained that spontaneous

enjoyment of the beauty of art which is known as genuine "artistic

feeling." In their literature we look in vain for any expression of

enthusiasm on the subject. There are many references to works of art,

but none which possess any intense glow of warmth. Doubtless art was

so abundant that, as has already been said in reference to the

appreciation of natural beauty, the absence of "gush" need not

indicate absence of real enjoyment. Enjoyment there was, but it was

apparently for the most part the enjoyment either of the collector or

of the man who realises that an appreciation of art demands a large

place in culture, and who is determined to be as well supplied and as

well informed as his neighbour, while his judgment of a piece of work,

though far from unintelligent, and often excellent in regard to

principles of design and technical execution, is mainly the result of

a deliberate training and cult, and is in consequence somewhat chill

and detached.

[Illustration: FIG. 119.--LYRE AND HARP.]

Of music the Romans were passionately fond, but the music itself was

of a description which perhaps would hardly commend itself to modern

notions, particularly those of northern Europe. The instruments in use

were chiefly the harp, the lyre, and the flageolet (or flute played

with a mouthpiece). To these we may add for processions the straight

trumpet and the curved horn, and, for more orgiastic occasions or

celebrations, the panpipes, cymbals, and tambourine or kettledrum.

Performers from the East played upon certain stringed instruments not

greatly differing from the lyre and harp of Greece and Italy. Women

from Cadiz used the castagnettes. Hydraulic organs with pipes and keys

were coming into vogue, and the bagpipes were also sufficiently

familiar. In the use of all these instruments the ancients knew

nothing of the harmonisation of parts; to them harmony and concerto

implied no more than unison, or a difference of octaves. Whatever

emotions may have been evoked by the music so produced, it cannot be

imagined that they were of the intensity or subtlety of which the

modern art and instruments are capable. Apart from the professionals,

many Roman youths and the majority of Roman girls learned both to play

and Sing, the instrument most affected being the harp, and the teacher

of harp-playing being held in the highest esteem and receiving the

highest emoluments. Sacrifices were regularly accompanied by the

flageolet; processions by this and the trumpet; the rites of Bacchus

by pipes, tambourines, and cymbals; performances in the theatre by an

immense orchestra of various instruments; the more elaborate dinners

by flute, harp, concerto of the two, singing, and such coarser and

more exciting performances as were to the taste of the host or his

company. The greatest houses kept their own choir and orchestra of

slaves; the less wealthy hired musicians as they needed them. As for

the Romans themselves, certain religious ceremonies called for singing

of boys and girls in chorus; and in a purely domestic way the women of

the house played on the harp and sang. Where there was singing, the

words dominated the music and not the contrary, but snatches from

recent popular pieces were sung and hummed in the streets for the sake

of their taking air, just as they are in modern times. We cannot

conceive of any Roman festivity without abundance of music. When in

spring at Baiae on the Bay of Naples the holiday frequenters of that

resort were rowed about the Lucrine Lake in their flower-bedecked

gondolas or boats with coloured sails, the musicians were no less in

evidence than they are now at every opportunity on the waters of the

same bay or in the evening on the Grand Canal at Venice. In the truly

Greek portion of the empire music, though no more advanced in method,

was for the most part of a finer and severer kind; but at

Alexandria--where it amounted to a mania--the influence of the native

Egyptian style, blent with the more passionate among the Greek modes,

had produced a music extremely exciting and highly demoralising.

On the whole, it may reasonably be held that music played at least as

important a part both in the houses and the public entertainments of

the ancient Romans as it plays in modern Italy. The artists were as

carefully trained, the audiences as critical or as receptive, the

personal affectations of the musicians as characteristic, and their

effect on emotional admirers of the opposite sex as great, as they are

at the present day. The difference between the two ages consists in

the nature of the music itself, and in the instruments through which

it is respectively delivered; and in these respects the advantage is

entirely with the modern world.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE LAST SCENE OF ALL--BURIAL AND TOMBS

Whatever conceptions may have been entertained as to existence beyond

the grave, there was no doubt in the Roman mind as to the claim of the

dead to a proper burial and a worthy monument. It had once on a time

been a matter of universal belief that the spirit which had departed

from an unburied corpse could find no admittance to the company in the

realms of Hades. It could not join "the majority" below. Originally no

doubt the notion was simply that, as the body had not been consigned

to the earth, the spirit also remained homeless above ground.

Gradually this fancy shifted to the notion that, through neglect of

burial, the dead man was dishonoured--he had no friends--and that his

spirit was thereby disgraced and unworthy of reception by the powers

beneath. It must therefore remain shivering on the near side of the

river across which the grim Charon ferried the more fortunate souls.

Even when the body had been decently buried, the spirit, though

received into the gloomy realm, called for continued respect on the

part of its friends on earth. Unless it received its periodical

honours and was commemorated by a fitting sepulchre, it would meet

with slights from other ghosts and would feel its position keenly.

Naturally it would then do its best, by some form of haunting, to

punish the living for their disregard and forgetfulness. From such

considerations there arose in very ancient days in Italy, as in

Greece, a great anxiety to perform scrupulously "the dues" of the

defunct. Even if the body could not be found, it was obligatory to

perform the obsequies and to build a cenotaph. If a stranger came

across a dead body he must not pass it by without throwing at least

three handfuls of dust or earth upon it and bidding it "Farewell."

Though the burial customs still employed sprang from old fancies like

these, we are not to suppose that such notions were in full life in

the Roman world of our period. Poets might play with them, and some

ignorant folk might still vaguely entertain them. The mere belief in

ghosts was doubtless general, and even the learned argued the question

of their existence. Here are parts of another letter culled from Pliny

already several times quoted. He writes to his friend Sura: "I should

very much like to know whether you think that apparitions actually

exist, with a real shape of their own and a kind of supernatural

power, or that it is only our fear which gives an embodiment to vain

fancies. My own inclination is to believe in them, and chiefly because

of an experience which, I am told, befell Curtius Rufus." He then

speaks of a phantom form which prophesied that person's fortune.

"Another occurrence, quite as wonderful and still more terrifying, I

will relate as I was told it. There was at Athens a house which was

roomy and commodious, but which bore an ill-name and was

plague-stricken. In the silence of the night there was heard a sound

of iron. On closer attention it proved to be a rattling of chains,

first at a distance and then close at hand. Soon there appeared the

spectre of an old man, miserably thin and squalid, with a long beard

and unkempt hair. On his legs were fetters, and on his hands chains,

which he kept shaking. In consequence the inhabitants spent horrible

and sleepless nights; the sleeplessness made them ill, and, as their

terror increased, the illness was followed by death.... As a result

the house was deserted and totally abandoned to the ghost.

Nevertheless it was advertised, on the chance that some one ignorant

of all this trouble" (note the commercial morality) "might choose to

buy it or rent it. To Athens there comes a philosopher named

Athenodorus, who reads the placard. On hearing the price and finding

it so cheap, he has his suspicions" (the ancient philosopher had his

practical side), "makes enquiry, and learns the whole story. So far

from being less inclined to hire it, he is only the more willing. On

the approach of evening he gives orders for his couch to be made up in

the front part of the house, and asks for his tablets, pencils, and a

light. After dismissing his attendants to the back rooms, he applies

all his attention, as well as his eyes and hand, steadily to his

writing, for fear his mind, if unoccupied, might conjure up imaginary

sounds and causeless fears. At first there was the same silence of the

night as elsewhere; then there was a shaking of iron, a movement of

chains. The philosopher refused to lift his eyes or stop his pencil;

instead he braced up his mind so as to overcome his hearing. The noise

grew louder; it approached; it sounded as if on the threshold; then as

if within the room. He looks behind him; sees and recognises the

apparition of which he has been told. It was standing and beckoning to

him with its finger, as if calling him. In answer our friend makes it

a sign with his hand to wait a while, and once more applies himself to

tablet and pencil. The ghost began to rattle its chains over his head

while he was writing. He looks behind him again, sees it making the

same signal as before, and promptly picks up the light and follows. It

goes at a slow pace, as if burdened with chains, then, after turning

into the open yard of the house, it suddenly vanishes and leaves him

by himself. At this he gathers some grass and leaves, and marks the

spot with them. The next day he goes to the magistrates and urges them

to dig up the spot in question; and they find bones tangled with

chains through which they were passed... These they put together and

bury at the public charge. The spirit being thus duly, laid, the house

was henceforward free of them."

Whatever the Roman beliefs on this point, so far as funeral rites and

ceremonies were concerned, they were carried out simply in accordance

with custom and tradition. The Romans of this date no more analysed

their motives and sentiments than we do ours in dealing with such

matters. They honoured the dead with funeral pomp and conspicuous

monument; but, at the bottom, it was often more out of respect for

themselves than because they imagined that it made any difference to

the departed. In a very early age it had been considered that the

spirit led in the underworld a feeble replica of human existence: it

required food, playthings, utensils, money, as well as consideration.

Hence food was periodically poured into the ground, playthings and

utensils were burned on the pyre or laid in the coffin, and money was

placed in that most primitive of purses, the mouth. Conservatism is

nowhere so strong as in rites and ceremonies, and therefore the Romans

continued to burn and bury articles along with the remains of the

dead, and they continued to put a coin in the mouth before the burial.

But it would be absurd to suppose that an intelligent Roman of our

date would have offered the original and ancient motives for this

conduct as rational motives still actuating himself. Enough that

convention expected certain proceedings as "due" and "proper": a true

Roman would not fail to perform what convention decreed.

[Illustration: FIG. 120.--"CONCLAMATIO" OF THE DEAD.]

Our friend the elder Silius dies a natural death, after completing the

fullest public career. His family has its full share of both affection

and pride, and therefore his obsequies will be worthy of his character

and standing. When his Greek physician Hermogenes assures the watching

family that life is departing, Marcia or Publius or Bassa will

endeavour to catch the last breath with a kiss, and will then close

the eyelids. Upon this all those who are present will call "Silius!

Silius! Silius!" The original motive of this cry--which has its modern

parallel in the case of a dead Pope--was to make sure that the man was

actually dead and beyond reply. This point made certain, the

professional undertaker is called in and instructed to take charge of

all the proceedings usual in such cases. It is he who will provide the

persons who are to wash and anoint the body and lay it in state, and

also, on the day of the procession, the musicians, the wailing-women,

the builders of the funeral pyre, and others who may be necessary,

together with the proper materials and accessories. He will further

see that the name of Quintus Silius Bassus is registered in the

death-roll in the temple of "Juno the Death-Goddess," and that the

registration fee is paid. The name will also appear in the next issue

of the "Daily News." The body, anointed so as to preserve it till the

third day, and dressed in the toga--which will be that of the highest

position he ever occupied--is laid in state in the high

reception-hall, with the feet pointing to the door. On the bier are

wreaths, by it is burning a pan of incense, in or before the vestibule

is placed a cypress tree or a number of cypress branches for warning

information to the public.

On the day next but one after death the contractor, attended by

subordinates dressed in black, marshals his procession. Though it is

daytime, the procession will be accompanied by torches--another piece

of conservatism reminiscent of the time when funerals took place at

night, as they still did with children and commonly with the lower

orders. First go the musicians, playing upon flageolet, trumpet, or

horn; behind these, professional wailing-women, who raise loud

lamentation and beat their breasts. Next come the wax-masks, already

mentioned, of the distinguished ancestors of the Silii. These, which

are life-like portraits, have been taken out of their cupboards in the

wing of the reception-hall, and are worn over their faces by men of a

build as nearly as possible resembling that of the ancestors

represented. Each man also wears the insignia of the character for

whom he stands. The more of such "effigies" a house could produce, the

greater its glory. Such, however, was not the original purpose of this

part of the procession, for--though it had doubtless been generally

forgotten--the intention was to represent the deceased as being

conducted into the underworld by an honourable company already

established there. After the effigies comes that which would

correspond to our hearse. It is, however, no hearse of the modern

kind, but a bier or couch with the usual embellishment of ivory and

with covers of purple worked with gold. On this the body lies, open to

the sky, like that of Juliet. The bearers are either relatives or such

slaves as have been set free under Silius's last will. Behind come the

nearest relatives or heirs, the freedmen, friends, and clients, all

clothed in black, except the women, who are in white, without colour

or gold upon their dress. Young Publius will walk with his head

covered by his toga; Bassa with her hair loose and dishevelled. The

whole party will utter lamentations, though under more restraint than

those of the professional women in front.

Silius having been a senator and a man of other official standing, the

procession passes from the Caelian Hill along the Sacred Way to the

Forum, as far as the Rostra or speaking-platform. There the bier is

set down, the "ancestors" seat themselves on the folding-stools which

were the old-fashioned chairs of the higher officers, and one of the

relatives delivers an oration in praise, not only of Silius, but of

his family as represented in the ancestors.

[Illustration: FIG. 121.--TOMB OF CAECILIA METELLA.]

[Illustration: FIG. 122.--STREET OF TOMBS. (POMPEII.)]

The procession then forms again, and the party proceeds to whatever

place outside the walls may contain the family tomb of the Silii. No

burial is allowed within the city proper, and for our purposes we will

assume that the place is distant nearly a mile along the Appian Way.

We will assume also that Silius is to be cremated, and not simply

buried in a coffin or a marble sarcophagus. Few persons of the higher

classes, except certain of the Cornelii, are buried at this date,

although there is nothing in law or custom to prevent the choice.

There exists no "crematorium," and the Silii are regularly burned at

their own sepulchral allotment beside the "Queen of Roads."

If you were with the procession on this day you would find yourself

before one of an almost continuous chain of monuments, built in all

manner of shapes and sizes--such as great altars, small shrines,

pyramids (like that of Cestius on another road), or round towers like

the beautiful tomb of Caecilia Metella. The exterior of these

structures is often adorned with commemorative or symbolic carvings,

and the inside, which may be wholly above the surface or partly sunk

beneath--is a chamber surrounded by niches, in which are placed the

urns containing the ashes of the dead. Perhaps an illustration of the

present state of the "Street of Tombs" at Pompeii will afford some

notion, although the sepulchres of that provincial place by no means

matched those upon the various roads outside the Roman gates. Often

the monumental chamber stands somewhat back from the road, leaving

space for a large semicircular seat of stone open to public use, its

back wall being inscribed with some statement of honour to the family.

Round the sepulchre--"where all the kindred of the Silii lie" is a

space of ground, planted with shrubs and trees, and surrounded by a

low wall. Somewhere near, on an open level, the funeral pile has been

built of pine-logs, with the interstices stuffed with pitch,

brushwood, or other inflammable material. It is natural that the pyre

should take the shape of an altar and that cypress branches should

lean against the sides.

Upon the summit of this pile is laid Silius on his bier; incense and

unguents are shed over him; wreaths and other offerings, often of no

little value, are cast upon the heap. While loud cries of lamentation

are being raised by the company present, a near kinsman approaches the

pile with a torch, and, turning his face away, sets fire to the whole

structure. It speedily burns down, the last embers are quenched with

wine, the general company thrice cries "farewell," and, except for the

nearest relatives, the procession returns to the city. The relatives

who stay take off their shoes, wash their hands, and proceed to gather

up the bones--which they cleanse in wine and milk--and the ashes,

which they mix with perfume. These remains are then placed in the urn

of bronze, marble, alabaster, or maybe of coloured glass, and the urn

fills one more niche in the chamber of the monument.

[Illustration: FIG. 123.--COLUMBARIUM.]

Now and then there were more magnificent obsequies than those of

Silius. A "public" funeral might be decreed to a man who had deserved

conspicuously well of the state. On such an occasion the crier would

go round, calling "Oyez, come all who choose to the funeral of

So-and-So." The invitation meant, not merely participation in a solemn

procession, but also in the funeral feast, and probably an exhibition

of gladiators. On the other hand the majority of burials were

naturally of a far more simple and inexpensive kind. The poor could

not afford to use unguents and keep their dead till the third day;

they could not afford real cypress trees, but must use cheaper

substitutes, if anything at all. They could not afford all the

processionists and paraphernalia of the undertaker, but must be

satisfied with four commonplace bearers, who hurried away the corpse

in the evening, not on a couch but in a cheap box, and carried it out

to the common necropolis beyond the Esquiline Gate. Seldom could they

afford the fuel to burn the body, and in many cases it must simply be

thrown into a pit roughly dug and there left without monument. To

secure more respect and decency there were many burial clubs, whether

connected with the trade-guilds or not, and these procured a joint

tomb of the kind known as a "dovecote," or columbarium, from the

resemblance of its niches to so many pigeon-holes. These cooperative

sepulchres were underground vaults, and it is perhaps hardly necessary

to point out their direct relation to the Christian catacombs. Similar

tombs were sometimes used by the great Roman families for the remains

of the freedmen and slaves of their house.

[Illustration: FIG. 124.--TEMPLE OF JUPITER ON THE CAPITOL (Platform

omitted).]

INDEX

Actors, contempt for, 268

Advertisements, 257

Aemilia, Basilica, 108

Africa, 45

Age, coming of, 332

Agriculture, implements of, 252

Alexander the Great, 34

Alexandria, 14, 25, 34, 44

Amphitheatres, 280

performances, 282

Amulets, 318

Andalusia, 36

Antioch, 14, 43

Appian Way, 22, 118

Aqueducts, 136

Architecture, 112, 422-424

Argiletum, the, 108

Aristocrat, clients of, 206

daily life of, 193

dress of, 196

as pleader in law-courts, 216

social duties of, 217

Army, the, 12, 52, 338-358

artillery, 356

auxiliaries, 352

camping arrangements, 349

cavalry, 339, 353, 356

composition, 339

dress and equipment, 342

Imperial Guards, 353

infantry, 339, 352

legionaries, 339

pay and rations, 344

promotion, 347

training, 340, 345

typical soldier's life, 342-350

Art, 416-433

apparent lack of artistic feeling, 429

contempt for professional artists, 428

influence of Greece, 421

profession and quality of, 416-420

statues, 418, 424

wall-paintings, 425-428

Artemis, temple of, 42

Artillery, 356

Asia Minor, towns of, 42

Astronomy, 359

Athens, 40

Athletics, 263

Auctioneers, receipt tablets of, 250

Augustus, title of emperor, 55

Augustus, Forum of, 188

mausoleum of, 120

Authors, amateur, 219, 235

Baetica (_see_ Andalusia)

Bakers, 248

Bandits, 24

Banking, 216, 239

Basilica Aemilia, 108

of Julius, 106

Baths, 122, 124

Beard, method of wearing, 195

Beds, 182

Beggars, 243

Betrothal ceremony, 296

Boadicea, 39

Books, size and shape of, 335-337

Booksellers, 109, 247

Boots (_see_ Shoes)

Boxing-gloves, 265

Breakfast, 200

Britain, 39

Burial, 434-447

funeral rites, 439-445

offerings to the dead, 438

tombs, 444, 446

Caligula, 73, 95, 115, 234

Camps, military, 349

Campus Martius, the, 120

Carpets, absence of, 180

Carriages, 19

regulation of traffic, 131

Cavalry, 339, 353, 356

Census of Augustus, 85

Chariot-races, 263, 274, 280

colours in, 274, 278

horses, 275

prizes, 278

procession of chariots, 277

Charts, 18

Chemistry, 402

Children:

ceremony at birth and naming, 317

coming of age, 332

early life, 319

education, 320-335

parental power over, 315-317

privileges of parents, 314

registration, 318

Christians, earlier tolerance towards, 383

their subsequent persecution, 79, 384-387

Circus Maximus, 128, 173

Citizens: as clients of the wealthy, 206

doles of corn and money to, 242

freed slaves may become, 204

rights of, 56, 92

Civilisation, Roman, 30

Greek, 32

Asiatic, 33

_Claqueurs_, in law-courts, 217

in theatres, 273

Nero's use of, 77

Class distinctions, 66

Clients, 206, 222, 245

dinner to, 235

escort to patron, 211

literary, 208

Cloaks, 220

Clocks, water, 192

"Colony," formation of, 84

Columbarium, joint sepulchre, 447

Commerce, 36

Concord, Temple of, 105

Concrete, extensive use of, in building, 138

Consulship, the, 359

Cook-shops, 258

Corinth, 40

Corn, monthly allowances of, 242

corn-lands, 45

Couches, 181, 226

Cremation, 445

Crops, rotation of, 252

Customs duties, 87

Cynics, the, 412

Damascus, 44

Dancing girls, 232

Dead, offerings to the, 438

Decoration, house, 150, 164

in theatres, 267

Deities, festivals of, 261

household, 376

official duties to, 374

variety of, 362, 366, 368

Delphi, 40

Dicing, 232, 258

Dinners:

conversation and entertainment at, 231, 235

description of, 229, 234

exaggerated accounts, 228

extravagance of Court, 234

to clients, 235

wine at, 233

Dissection, human, prohibition of, 404

Divorce, 304

Doles of corn and money, 242

Doors, 145

Dowry, 299

Drainage, 161

Drama, low level of the, 268, 270

Dress:

distinctions of, 65

for dinner, 226

hats, 212

mantles, 221, 274

military, 342

toga, 197, 332

theatrical, 269

typical aristocrat's, 196

women's, 308-313

Druids, the, 382

Education:

of boys, 321-326

of girls, 327

ideal of, 320

physical training, 331

primary and secondary, 327-331

Egypt, 45

Elections, municipal, 255

Emblems, city, 47

Emperor, the:

dependence upon the army, 52

nomination of Senators by, 60

powers of, 50

and the Senate, 57

symbolic character of statue, 386

Empire, the Roman:

Eastern and Western halves, 35

extent, 6, 8

expeditions, 7

government, 9

military and naval forces, 12

provinces, 30

roads, 16

security under, 12

Ephesus, 42

Epicureans, the, 407-409

Etiquette, exactions of, 217

Euclid, 401

Festivals, 261

Field-glass, primitive, 275

Fingers, use of, at meals, 228

Fires, destructive, 98, 133

Floors, 149, 180

Flour-mills, 248

Food, 200, 230, 258

Foreigners, 67

Forum, the, 102

public life in, 214

"Free" towns, 90

Freedmen, 204, 245

wealth of, 205

Freethought, 378-381

"Friends of Caesar," 211

Frontiers, protection of, 12

Fullers, 250

Funeral rites, 439-445

Furniture:

beds, 182

chairs and couches, 181

chests, 185

kitchen utensils, 189

lamps, 186

mirrors, 186

silver and glass ware, 188

tables, 183

tripods, 184

Games, 214, 222, 232, 262

Gaul, 37

tribes of, 38

Geographical knowledge, 398-401

Ghosts, belief in, 435-437

Gladiators, 264, 280, 282, 285-288

female spectators at combats, 288

"Golden House," the, 116

"Golden Milestone," the, 105

Goldsmiths, 250

Government, system of, 49

emperor, 50

"knights," 63

provinces, 82-95

Senate, 56

tribunes, 53

Governors, provincial, dress of, 93

duties, 91

emoluments, 94

Greece, indebtedness to, 32

influence of art of, 421

language and culture, 34

scientific thought, 397

Greeks, prominence of, 67

Greeting, manner of 211

Guards, Imperial, 353

Guides, professional, 19

Guilds, _trade_, 254

Hair, method of wearing, 37, 195 298, 311

Hairpins, 311

Hats, 212

Health resorts, 174

Heating, domestic, 161

Holidays, 254

number of, 260

Homestead, country, 169

Horses, in chariot-races, 275

Hotels, scarcity of, 22

Hour of rising, 195

House, country, 175-179

House, typical town, 143-163

decoration, 150, 164

dining-rooms, 155

doors, 145

exterior, 144

floors, 149

garden, 154, 156

hall, 148

heating system, 161

kitchen, 156

library and picture-gallery, 158

lighting, 145, 150, 153, 160, 186

peristyle, 154

reception-room, 153

roofs, 141, 162

shrine, 157, 376

water-supply and drainage, 160

vestibule, 146

Houses, 131

height of, 131, 139

lighting of, 141

tenement blocks,140

Imperial Guards, 353

Infantry, 339, 352

Inns, 20

Instruments, musical, 430

Interest, rates of, 239

Isis-worship, 373

Italy, 30

Janitors, 209

Janus, Temple of, 110

Jerusalem, 14, 44

Jewelry, female love of, 297, 312

Jews, colony of, 67

rebellious among, 10

toleration shown to, 382

Jove, Temple of, 105

Julius, Basilica of, 106

Jurymen, 217

Juvenal, on marriage, 293

Kissing, excessive, 211

Kitchens, 156, 170, 189

"Knights," order of:

composition, 63

dress, 66

occupations, 238

privileges, 64

Knives and forks, absence of, 189, 228

Lamps, 186

Land-tax, 85

Land-travelling, 16-25

Language, 32, 36, 91

of the people, 258

predominance of the Greek, 34

Law-courts, pleaders in, 216

president and jury, 217

Learning, tastes in, 398

Legacies, 314

Legions, number and name of, 341

strength, 339

Life, social, aristocratic, 193-237

middle and lower class, 238-259

Literature, 394-396

literary dependants, 208

Litter, 211

Loafers, 241

Local government, 89

Lugdunum (Lyons), 14, 38

Luncheon, 219

Macedonia, 40

Marriage, 220

betrothal ceremony, 296

divorce, 304

dowry, 299

festivities, 300

two forms of, 290

Juvenal on, 293

legal age for, 294

not based on love, 292, 294

matrimonial freedom, 291

morganatic, 295

wedding ceremony, 297

Mars, Temple of, 118

Martial on country life, 172

Masks:

at funerals, 152, 440

theatrical, 268

Mathematics, 401

Mausoleum of Augustus, 120

Meals:

breakfast, 200

luncheon, 219

dinner, 226, 229

Medicine, 403

Mediterranean Sea, 46

Milestones, 18, 28

Mines, 37

Mirrors, 186

Money-lending, 238

Morals, 378

Municipal elections, 255

Music, as part of education, 331, 341

fondness for, 430

instruments, 430

Mysticism, 372

Names, family, 194

of slaves, 204

Navy, 12

Nero:

musical eccentricities of, 78

persecution of Christians by, 79, 383, 387

personal appearance, 80, 213

powers vested in, 55, 71

reception by, 213

reign, 74

vices and follies 75, 116

New Year's Day, 262

News-sheets, official, 215

Noises, street, 134, 195

Oath of obedience, military, 342

Officials, public, 358

Oratory, school of, 329

Ornament, architectural, 112, 423

Paintings, wall, 325-328

Palatine Hill, 115

Pantheon, the, 121

Papyri, 336

Passes, Alpine, 39

Patriotism, municipal, 90

Paul, St., 34, 42, 80, 197, 383, 413

_Pax Romana_, the 9, 12

Pedigrees, 152

"People," the, 67, 241

doles of corn and money to, 242

Person-tax, 87

Philosophy, study of, 332-335, 380

Pipes, lead, 160

Pliny the elder, literary industry of, 390-392

Pliny the younger, 236, 294, 305, 321, 392, 435

Plutarch, 334, 395

Police, soldiers as, 14

Polytheism, 364

Population of the city, 101

Portugal, 37

Present-giving, prominence of, 262

Priests, 361

Processions:

chariot, 227

funeral, 440

wedding, 300

Proconsuls, 93

Provinces, 30

civilisation of, 31

commerce, 36

contributions by, 85

distinctions between, 35

government, 82-95

language, 32

Public service, 358-360

Publicans (tax-collectors), 89, 240

Record Office, the, 105

Religion, 333, 361-387

attitude of state towards, 361-364, 370

conservatism in, 364, 368

free-thought, 378-381

mixed elements, 370

mysticism in, 372

polytheistic character of, 364

priests, 361

private observances, 375

superstitions in, 371

tolerance in, 381

treatment of Christians, 383-387

Rhodes, 42

Rings, 200

Roads, military, 16

construction and upkeep, 18

variety of traffic, 22

Rome in A.D., 64

appearance, 96-100

baths, 122

extent and population, 100-102

habits of the people, 102

public buildings, 102-129

streets, 130-138

theatres, 123

Roofs 141, 162

Rostra, the, 104

Sandals, 309

Saturn, Temple of, 105

Saturnalia, the, 261

Schools, 321-331

Science, 396-405

Sculpture, 418, 424

Sea-travelling, 25-28

Senate, the, 56, 71

imperial nomination to, 60

qualifications for membership, 59

relations with the emperor, 57, 72

senators' dress, 65

training of members, 62

Senate-House, the, 109

Seneca, 395

Sewers, 130

Ships, 26

Shoes, 197,310

Shops, 133, 141, 222

Shrine, household 159, 376

Sidon, 44

Signs, trade, 251

Slaves, 68, 206, 211, 240

citizenship bestowed on, 204

domestic, 201

dress, 202

licence at Saturnalia, 261

as musicians, 431

names, 204

occupations, 246

treatment, 203

Smyrna, 42

Snails, breeding of, 46

Social life, of aristocrats, 193-237

of middle and lower classes, 238-259

Spain, 36

Spoons, 228

Sports, 178, 263

Statues, 418, 424

Stoics, the, 409-412

Strabo, 379

Streets, 130

narrowness of, 132

noisiness, 134, 195

paving, 137

regulation of traffic, 131

Suicide, attitude regarding, 23

Sun-dials, 191

Superstitions, 371

Surgery, 404

Tarragona, 37

Tarsus, 42

Taxes:

collection 89, 240

farming of, 239

land, 85

miscellaneous 88

personal, 87

Temple, description of, 123, 265

Temples: of

Concord, 105

Janus, 110

Jove, 105

Mars, 118

Saturn, 105

Vesta, 114

Theatres, 123, 265

actors' status 268

_claqueurs_, 273

compared with Greek, 266

curtain, 267

decoration, 267

masks and dresses, 268

music and dancing, 270

plays performed, 268, 270-273

scenery, 267

seats, 267

women's presence not encouraged, 266

Tiles, 157, 162

Time, method of telling, 192

Toga:

colours of 218

compulsory use on formal occasions 198

distinctive meaning of, 197, 214

Toleration, religious, 381

Tombs, 253, 444

Trade guilds 254

signs, 251

Trade routes, 27

Travelling, land and sea:

accommodation, 20

dangers 24, 29

modes, 19

period and routes, 25

speed, 25, 28

"Tribunes of the commons," 53

Tunics, 196, 308

Tyre, 44, 45

Utensils, kitchen, 189

Vehicles, 19

Vesta, Temple of, 114

Water-clocks, 192

Water-supply, 135, 160

Wedding ceremony, 297

Wild-beast fights, 282, 284

Windows, 141, 145, 150, 60

Wine, 233, 241

Women:

fondness for jewelry, 297, 312

divorce, 304

domestic virtues, 307

dowry, 299

dress, 308-313

marriageable age, 294

position after marriage, 289, 301

presence at theatres not encouraged, 266

property after marriage, 299, 302

types of, 302, 306

Working-classes, the, 214

competition with slave-labour 246

dress and food 258

language 258

life of 253, 256

professions all ranked among, 258

Writing materials, 323, 337

Youths:

coming of age of 218, 382

military training, 338

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