Book X
As was usual on Idus day, except in the summer months, the Senate had assembled at dawn for their meeting in the Curia, which to many people’s annoyance had survived the great fire almost unscathed.
Nero slept so late that he was not in time to take part in the opening ceremonies. But then he arrived, bursting with energy, greeting both the Consuls with a kiss and verbosely apologizing for his late arrival, which was due to vital matters of State.
“But,” he said jokingly, “I am prepared to submit myself to whatever punishment the Senate decides on for my neglect, although I think the fathers will treat me kindly when they have heard what I have to tell them.”
The senators suppressed their yawns and settled themselves more comfortably on their ivory stools, prepared for an hour’s exhibition of eloquence along Seneca’s best lines. But Nero contented himself with a few necessary words on the moral way of life ordained by the gods and the heritage of our forefathers and then came straight to the point.
The devastating fire during the summer, the greatest misfortune ever to have befallen Rome except the ravages of the Gauls, was no punishment meted out by the gods for certain politically necessary events in Rome, as some malevolent persons obstinately asserted, but a deliberate outrage, the most terrible crime ever perpetrated against mankind and the State. The perpetrators of this crime were the so-called Christians, whose unpleasant superstition had silently spread to an unimaginable degree among the criminal elements of Rome and the lowest and most ignorant of the people. Most of the Christians were of foreign origin and could not even speak Latin; immigrant rabble of the kind that was constantly streaming into the city, rootless and with shameless customs, of which the fathers were no doubt aware.
The conspiracy was all the more dangerous since outwardly these contemptible Christians tried to behave irreproachably, enticing the poor with free meals and alms in order to reveal their fearful hatred of mankind in all its hideousness during their mysteries, which were carefully kept secret. At these they ate human flesh and drank human blood. They also practiced witchcraft, apparently cursing the sick and thus ensnaring them in their sorcery. Some of the bewitched had given up all their possessions to aid their criminal purposes.
Nero paused to allow the most enthusiastic senators to exclaim in horror and loathing, as was demantled by his rhetoric. Then he continued.
For moral reasons, he did not wish to, nor could he even, publicly reveal all the horrors that occurred at the Christian mysteries. But the essence was that these Christians, depending on their own eloquence, had set fire to Rome and on orders from their leaders, had then assembled on the hills, jubilantly, to await the coming of a king who would crush Rome and found a new kingdom and condemn all those who thought differendy to the cruelest punishments.
Because of this plan, the Christians had evaded fulfilling their duties as citizens in the service of the State, for however shameful or unbelievable it might sound, a number of citizens, in their foolishness and in the hope of future reward, had joined the conspiracy. Clear signs of the Christians’ hatred of all that others hold sacred were that they did not make offerings to the Roman gods, they looked on the fine arts as noxious and they refused to go to the theater.
The conspiracy had, however, been easily suppressed since these cowardly Christians enthusiastically denounced each other as soon as they were caught. Once he, Nero, had heard of the matter he had immediately taken measures to protect the State and punish the fire-raisers of Rome. He had had excellent support from the Praetorian Prefect, Tigellinus, who had earned full recognition from the Senate.
To give the city fathers time to cogitate on the matter, Nero now went on to give a brief account of the origins of the Christian superstition. It had originally been founded in Galilee by a Jewish troublemaker called Christ. He had been condemned to death as a State criminal by Procurator Pontius Pilate during the reign of Emperor Tiberius, and the resultant disturbances had then been temporarily suppressed. But by spreading the rumor that this criminal had risen from the dead, his disciples revived the superstition in Judaea, from whence it had spread farther and farther like a creeping plague.
The Jews disowned the Christian superstition, said Nero, and they could not be accused of this conspiracy, as certain people had done in their prejudiced hatred of the Jews. On the contrary, the Jews lived under the protection of their special rights and to a great extent governed by their own wise council as useful inhabitants of Rome.
This statement was not met with much response from the Senate. The Senate had never approved of the exceptional rights which many Emperors had granted the Jews in Rome and often reconfirmed. Why should we tolerate a State within the State?
“Nero is often said to be too humane in his punishment of criminals,” Nero continued emphatically. “It is said that he is allowing the strict customs of our forefathers to be forgotten and that he tempts youth into an effeminate life instead of cultivating military virtues. The moment has now come to show that Nero is not afraid to see blood, as has been whispered by certain soured Stoics.
“An unprecedented crime demands an unprecedented punishment. Nero has called on his artistic imagination to assist in offering the Senate and the people of Rome a spectacle such as he hopes will never be forgotten in the annals of Rome. Respected fathers, with your own eyes you will see in my circus how Nero punishes the Christians, the enemies of mankind.”
After having spoken about himself formally in the third person, he then turned to the first person and jestingly suggested, with humble respect, that all other matters be postponed until the next meeting of the Senate, and that the city fathers could now go to the circus, presuming, of course, that the Consuls had no objections.
The Consuls thanked Nero on behalf of their offices for his foresight and swift action in preserving the fatherland from the threat of danger, and expressed their pleasure that he had found the true instigators of the fire of Rome. This was useful to the State in that it once and for all forestalled the many foolish rumors that were circulating. The Consuls suggested on their part that a summary of Nero’s speech should be published in the State notices and approved the suggestion to close the meeting. In accordance with their duty, they asked whether any of the venerable fathers might possibly wish to say anything, although they thought everything was quite clear.
Senator Paetus Thrasea, whose vanity had been pricked by Nero’s thrust at sour Stoics; asked for the floor and suggested mockingly that the Senate should at the same time decide on the necessary thanksgiving offerings to the gods in connection with the averting of this great danger.
Thanksgiving offerings had already been carried out for a number of other infamous deeds. Why should the Christians be less of a reason? Nero seemed to fear witchcraft as much as antagonism to shows. Nero pretended not to hear, but just stamped his foot to hurry the whole matter along, and the Senate hastily voted for this customary thanksgiving to Jupiter Custos and the other gods. The Consuls asked impatiently if anyone else wished to speak.
Then, quite against his usual practice, my father, Marcus Mezentius Manilianus, rose to his feet so that his voice should be heard better, and stammeringly asked for the right to speak. Several senators sitting near him pulled at his toga and whispered to him to keep quiet, for it appeared to them that he was drunk. But my father gathered his toga around his arms and began to speak, his bald head trembling with rage.
“Consuls, fathers, you Nero, the leader of your equals,” he said. “You all know that I have seldom opened my mouth at the sessions of the Senate. I cannot boast of any great wisdom, although I have for seventeen years given my best for the common good in the committee on Eastern affairs. I have seen and heard much that has been infamous and unholy in this memorable Curia, but my old eyes have never witnessed anything so shameful as that which I have seen this morning. Have we sunk so low that the Senate of Rome sits in silence and agrees to the execution of what is, as far as I know, thousands of men and women, among them hundreds of citizens and even a few knights, in the cruelest possible way, on evidence not proven, without legal trial, as if it were all a simple routine matter?”
Cries of disapproval were heard, and Tigellinus was permitted to give an explanation.
“There is not a single knight among them,” he said. “Or if there is, then he has kept his rank secret in shame for his crime.”
“Do I understand from what you say,” asked Nero with ill-concealed impatience, “that you doubt my honor and sense of justice, Marcus Manilianus?”
