disturbed.
Book IX
No rain had fallen for a long time, apart from thunderstorms, and Rome was tormented by the heat, the dirt, the smell and the dust. In my garden on Aventine, the leaves on the trees were covered with dust and the grass rustled dryly. Aunt Laelia was the only person to enjoy the heat. She, who because of her age was usually cold, had herself carried out into the garden where she sniffed with an experienced air.
“Real fire weather in Rome,” she said.
It was as if for a moment her head had cleared. She began to relate for the hundredth time the story of the fire which had ravaged the slopes of Aventine many years ago. My father’s banker had bought the burned-out sites cheaply and had had the apartments built on them which provided me with the whole of the income required for the Order of Knights, until I sold them the previous winter.
When I sniffed the air I could smell the smoke, but it did not worry me, for I knew that the fire brigades in all sections of the city would be on the alert in this heat, and that it was forbidden to light a fire unnecessarily. It was not even windy. The air was still and suffocating from the early hours of the morning onward.
From somewhere far away came the sound of horn signals and a curious murmuring, but not until I was on my way into the city did I see that the side of the great race-course facing Palatine was in flames. Huge clouds of smoke were billowing up from the wax, incense and cloth booths. These highly inflammable small buildings had no firewalls at all, so the fire had caught on and spread like lightning.
People were seething like ants all around the fire. I thought I saw fire brigades from at least three sections of the city clearing wide firebreaks to stop the raging sea of flames from spreading. I had never seen such a large fire before. It was an oppressive sight, but nevertheless did not worry me overmuch. In fact, I thought that the fire brigade from our part of the city should not have gone down there, but should have stayed and guarded the slopes of Aventine.
I sent one of my men to warn Claudia and the household, and on the way to the menagerie I looked in at the City Prefecture to ask how the fire had started. A messenger had been sent on horseback to fetch my former father-in-law back from his country estate, but his next-in-command seemed to have things well in hand.
He blamed the Jewish small traders and the circus people in the shops at the Capua gate for carelessness, but he was confident that their highly inflammable goods would burn up quite quickly. In fact he considered keeping order a much more difficult task than confining the fire, for slaves and other rabble had at once hurried to the spot to make the most of the opportunity by plundering the circus shops.
After inspecting the menagerie, which was suffering badly from the heat, and consulting the veterinary physician on the preservation of our perishable meat supply, I ordered extra rations of water given to all the animals and saw that water was poured over their cages. I spoke to Sabina in all friendliness, for since our divorce we had been on much better terms than before.
Sabina asked me to go at once to the superintendent of the waterworks to ensure that the water supplies to the menagerie were not cut because of the fire. I assured her that there was no need to worry, for all the heads of noble households would probably be there already on the same errand, to ensure the watering of their gardens in the hot weather.
At the waterworks they told me that the blocking of the aqueducts could certainly not be revoked without a decision from the Senate or an Imperial command. The usual water-rationing would thus remain unchanged, for the Senate could not be summoned together for several days since it does not meet during-the summer unless the State is threatened. Nero was in Antium at the time.
Feeling in a better mood, I went up to the Palatine hill, walked past the empty palace buildings and joined the crowd of spectators gathered on the slope facing the race-course. They were mostly slaves, servants and gardeners from the Imperial household. No one seemed worried, although the whole of the hollow below us was one great burning, billowing furnace.
The fire was so violent that it formed whirlpools in the air, and the hot blast constandy blew across our faces. Some of the slaves indifferently stamped out smoldering patches of grass and someone swore when a spark burned a hole in his tunic. But the watering apparatus was working in the gardens and no one looked very concerned. There was nothing to be seen in the watchers’ expressions except excitement over the spectacular scene before them. When I tried to look across to Aventine through the swirling smoke, I noticed that the fire had spread to the slope and was slowly but surely beginning to eat its way up toward my own part of the city. I suddenly made haste. I told my following to go home by themselves and then borrowed a horse from Nero’s stables, as I saw a messenger galloping along the via Sacra over by the forum.
There the most cautious were already bolting and barring their shops and only in the large market halls were housewives still making their purchases as usual. I was able to make my way back to my own house by a roundabout route along the banks of the Tiber, and on the way I saw many men slinking along in the smoke, carrying either plunder or things they had rescued from near the race-course.
The narrow streets were packed with anxious crowds of people. Mothers in tears were calling their children, while heads of households stood anxiously outside their doors and uncertainly asked each other what they should do. No one is particularly willing to leave his house empty during a big fire, for the city police would then find it impossible to keep order.
Many people were already saying that the Emperor should return from Antium. I too began to feel that emergency measures were now necessary. I could only thank my good fortune that my menagerie lay on the outskirts of the city on the other side of Mars field.
When I arrived home, I immediately ordered sedans and bearers out and told Claudia and Aunt Laelia to go to the fourteenth district of the city on the other side of the Tiber with the household staff. As many of our most valuable possessions as could be carried would have to be taken too, for there were no vehicles available during the day.
Only the doorkeeper and the strongest of the slaves were ordered to remain behind to protect the house from looters. I left them weapons because of the unusual circumstances. But it was important that they all hurry, for I guessed that others would soon follow suit and the narrow streets of Aventine would be choked with refugees.
Claudia protested violendy and said she first had to send a warning to her Christian friends and help the weak and old among them to flee. They were redeemed by Christ and so worth more than our gold and silver vessels, she said. I pointed at Aunt Laelia.
“You’ve an old person there to protect,” I cried. “And you might at least give a thought to our unborn child.”
At that moment Aquila the Jew and Prisca came panting into our courtyard, sweat pouring from them as they carried their bundles of goat-hair cloth. They begged me to allow them to leave their possessions in the security of my house, for the fire was already approaching their weaving-sheds. Their shortsighted foolishness angered me, for Claudia, trusting them, said there was almost certainly no danger to us yet. Aquila and Prisca could not go over to the Jewish part of the city on the other side of the Tiber, for the Jews knew them by sight and hated them like the plague.
During all this talk and women’s chatter, much valuable time had been lost. Finally I was forced to slap Aunt Laelia and forcibly push Claudia into a sedan. So eventually they all set off and just in time, for then some Christians with smoke-blackened faces and burns on their arms came rushing in to ask after Aquila.
With their arms raised and their eyes staring, they cried that with their own ears they had heard the earth and the sky rend asunder and knew that Christ in accordance with his promise was about to come down to Rome. So all Christians should throw down their burdens and assemble on the hills of the city to receive their Lord and his new kingdom. The day of judgment had come.
But Prisca was an experienced, sensible and restrained woman and she would not believe such news. In fact she cried out to the newcomers to be silent, for she herself had had no such vision and anyhow, the only clouds in sight in the sky were clouds of smoke.
