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_ As Vinicius approached the walls, he found it easier to reach
Rome than penetrate to the middle of the city. It was difficult to
push along the Appian Way, because of the throng of people.
Houses, fields, cemeteries, gardens, and temples, lying on both
sides of it, were turned into camping places. In the temple of
Mars, which stood near the Porta Appia, the crowd had thrown
down the doors, so as to find a refuge within during night-hours.
In the cemeteries the larger monuments were seized, and battles
fought in defence of them, which were carried to bloodshed.
Ustrinum with its disorder gave barely a slight foretaste of that
which was happening beneath the walls of the capital. All regard
for the dignity of law, for family ties, for difference of position,
had ceased. Gladiators drunk with wine seized in the Emporium
gathered in crowds, ran with wild shouts through the neighboring
squares, scattering, trampling, and robbing the people. A multitude
of barbarians, exposed for sale in the city, escaped from the
booths. For them the burning and ruin, of Rome was at once the
end of slavery and the hour of revenge; so that when the permanent
inhabitants, who had lost all they owned in the fire, stretched their
hands to the gods in despair, calling for rescue, these slaves with
howls of delight scattered the crowds, dragged clothing from
people's backs, and bore away the younger women. They were
joined by slaves serving in the city from of old, wretches who had
nothing on their bodies save woollen girdles around their hips,
dreadful figures from the alleys, who were hardly ever seen on the
streets in the daytime, and whose existence in Rome it was
difficult to suspect. Men of this wild and unrestrained crowd,
Asiatics, Africans, Greeks, Thracians, Germans, Britons, howling
in every language of the earth, raged, thinking that the hour had
come in which they were free to reward themselves for years of
misery and suffering. In the midst of that surging throng of
humanity, in the glitter of day and of fire, shone the helmets of
pretorians, under whose protection the more peaceable population
had taken refuge, and who in hand-to-hand battle had to meet the
raging multitude in many places. Vinicius had seen captured cities,
but never had his eyes beheld a spectacle in which despair, tears,
pain, groans, wild delight, madness, rage, and license were
mingled together in such immeasurable chaos. Above this heaving,
mad human multitude roared the fire, surging up to the hill-tops of
the greatest city on earth, sending into the whirling throng its fiery
breath, and covering it with smoke, through which it was
impossible to see the blue sky. The young tribune with supreme
effort, and exposing his life every moment, forced his way at last
to the Appian Gate; but there he saw that he could not reach the
city through the division of the Porta Capena, not merely because
of the throng, but also because of the terrible heat from which the
whole atmosphere was quivering inside the gate. Besides, the
bridge at the Porta Trigenia, opposite the temple of the Bona Dea,
did not exist yet, hence whoso wished to go beyond the Tiber had
to push through to the Pons Sublicius, that is, to pass around the
Aventine through a part of the city covered now with one sea of
flame. That was an impossibility. Vinicius understood that he must
return toward Ustrinum, turn from the Appian Way, cross the river
below the city, and go to the Via Portuensis, which led straight to
the Trans-Tiber. That was not easy because of the increasing
disorder on the Appian Way. He must open a passage for himself
there, even with the sword. Vinicius had no weapons; he had left
Antium just as the news of the fire had reached him in Caesar's
villa. At the fountain of Mercury, however, he saw a centurion
who was known to him. This man, at the head of a few tens of
soldiers, was defending the precinct of the temple; he commanded
him to follow. Recognizing a tribune and an Augustian, the
centurion did not dare to disobey the order.
Vinicius took command of the detachment himself, and, forgetting
for that moment the teaching of Paul touching love for one's
neighbor, he pressed and cut the throng in front with a haste that
was fatal to many who could not push aside in season. He and his
men were followed by curses and a shower of stones; but to these
he gave no heed, caring only to reach freer spaces at the earliest.
Still he advanced with the greatest effort. People who had
encamped would not move, and heaped loud curses on Caesar and
the pretorians. The throng assumed in places a threatening aspect.
Vinicius heard voices accusing Nero of burning the city. He and
Poppaea were threatened with death. Shouts of "Sanio," "Histrio"
(buffoon, actor), "Matricide!" were heard round about. Some
shouted to drag him to the Tiber; others that Rome had shown
patience enough. It was clear that were a leader found, these
threats could be changed into open rebellion which might break
out any moment. Meanwhile the rage and despair of the crowd
turned against the pretorians, who for another reason could not
make their way out of the crowd: the road was blocked by piles of
goods, borne from the fire previously, boxes, barrels of provisions,
furniture the most costly, vessels, infants' cradles, beds, carts,
hand-packs. Here and there they fought band to hand; but the
pretorians conquered the weaponiess multitude easily. After they
had ridden with difficulty across the Viae Latina, Numitia, Ardea,
Lavinia, and Ostia, and passed around villas, gardens, cemeteries,
and temples, Vinicius reached at last a village called Vicus
Alexandri, beyond which he crossed the Tibet. There was more
open space at this spot, and less smoke. From fugitives, of whom
there was no lack even there, he learned that only certain alleys of
the Trans-Tiber were burning, but that surely nothing could resist
the fury of the conflagration, since people were spreading the fire
purposely, and permitted no one to quench it, declaring that they
acted at command. The young tribune had not the least doubt then
that Caesar had given command to burn Rome; and the vengeance
which pe9ple demanded seemed to him just and proper. What
more could Mithridates or any of Rome's most inveterate enemies
have done? The measure had been exceeded; his madness had
grown to be too enormous, and the existence of people too
difficult because of him. Vinicius believed that Nero's hour had
struck, that those ruins into which the city was falling should and
must overwhelm the monstrous buffoon together with all those
crimes of his. Should a man be found of courage sufficient to stand
at the head of the despairing people, that might happen in a few
hours. Here vengeful and daring thoughts began to fly through his
head. But if he should do that? The house of Vinicius, which till
recent times counted a whole series of consuls, was known
throughout Rome. The crowds needed only a name. Once, when
four hundred slaves of the prefect Pedanius Secundus were
sentenced, Rome reached the verge of rebellion and civil war.
What would happen to-day in view of a dreadful calamity
surpassing almost everything which Rome had undergone in the
course of eight centuries? Whoso calls the Quirites to arms,
thought Vinicius, will overthrow Nero undoubtedly, and clothe
himself in purple. And why should he not do this? He was firmer,
more active, younger than other Augustians. True, Nero
commanded thirty legions stationed on the borders of the Empire;
but would not those legions and their leaders rise up at news of the
burning of Rome and its temples? And in that case Vinicius might
become Caesar. It was even whispered among the Augustians that
a soothsayer had predicted the purple to Os-ho. In what way was
he inferior to Os-ho? Perhaps Christ Himself would assist him with
His divine power; maybe that inspiration was His? "Oh, would that
it were!" exclaimed Vinicius, in spirit. He would take vengeance
on Nero for the danger of Lygia and his own fear; he would begin
the reign of truth and justice, he would extend Christ's religion
from the Euphrates to the misty shores of Britain; he would array
Lygia in the purple, and make her mistress of the world.
But these thoughts which had burst forth in his head like a bunch
of sparks from a blazing house, died away like sparks. First of all
was the need to save Lygia. He looked now on the catastrophe
from near by; hence fear seized him again, and before that sea of
flame and smoke, before the touch of dreadful reality, that
confidence with which he believed that Peter would rescue Lygia
died in his heart altogether. Despair seized him a second time
when he had come out on the Via Portuensis, which led directly to
the Trans-Tiber. He did not recover till he came to the gate, where
people repeated what fugitives had said before, that the greater
part of that division of the city was not seized by the flames yet,
but that fire had crossed the river in a number of places.
Still the Trans-Tiber was full of smoke, and crowds of fugitives
made it more difficult to reach the interior of the place, since
people, having more time there, had saved greater quantities of
goods. The main street itself was in many parts filled completely,
and around the Naumachia Augusta great heaps were piled up.
Narrow alleys, in which smoke had collected more densely, were
simply impassable. The inhabitants were fleeing in thousands. On
the way Vinicius saw wonderful sights. More than once two rivers
of people, flowing in opposite directions, met in a narrow passage,
stopped each other, men fought hand to hand, struck and trampled
one another. Families lost one another in the uproar; mothers
called on their children despairingly. The young tribune's hair
stood on end at thought of what must happen nearer the fire. Amid
shouts and howls it was difficult to inquire about anything or
understand what was said. At times new columns of smoke from
beyond the river rolled toward them, smoke black and so heavy
that it moved near the ground, hiding houses, people, and every
object, just as night does. But the wind caused by the conflagration
blew it away again, and then Vinicius pushed forward farther
toward the alley in which stood the house of Linus. The fervor of a
July day, increased by the heat of the burning parts of the city,
became unendurable. Smoke pained the eyes; breath failed in
men's breasts. Even the inhabitants who, hoping that the fire would
not cross the river, had remained in their houses so far, began to
leave them; and the throng increased hourly. The pretorians
accompanying Vinicius remained in the rear. In the crush some
one wounded his horse with a hammer; the beast threw up its
bloody head, reared, and refused obedience. The crowd recognized
in Vinicius an Augustian by his rich tunic, and at once cries were
raised round about: "Death to Nero and his incendiaries!" This was
a moment of terrible danger; hundreds of hands were stretched
toward Vinicius; but his frightened horse bore him away,
trampling people as he went, and the next moment a new wave of
black smoke rolled in and filled the street with darkness. Vinicius,
seeing that he could not ride past, sprang to the earth and rushed
forward on foot, slipping along walls, and at times waiting till the
fleeing multitude passed him. He said to himself in spirit that these
were vain efforts. Lygia might not be in the city; she might have
saved herself by flight. It was easier to find a pin on the seashore
than her in that crowd and chaos. Still he wished to reach the
house of Linus, even at the cost of his own life. At times he
stopped and rubbed his eyes. Tearing off the edge of his tunic, he
covered his nose and mouth with it and ran on. As he approached
the river, the heat increased terribly. Vinicius, knowing that the
fire had begun at the Circus Maximus, thought at first that that
heat came from its cinders and from the Forum Boarium and the
Velabruin, which, situated near by, must be also in flames. But the
heat was growing unendurable. One old man on crutches and
fleeing, the last whom Vinicius noticel, cried: "Go not near the
bridge of Cestius! The whole island is on fire!" It was, indeed,
impossible to be deceived any longer. At the turn toward the Vicus
Judaeorum, on which stood the house of Linus, vhae young tribune
saw flames amid clouds of smoke. Not only the island was
burning, but the Trans-Tiber, or at least the other end of the street
on which Lygia dwelt.
Vinicius remembered that the house of Linus was surrounded by a
garden; between the garden and the Tiber was an unoccupied field
of no great size. This thought consoled him. The fire might stop at
the vacant place. In that hope he ran forward, though every breeze
brought not only smoke, but sparks in thousands, which might
raise a fire at the other end of the alley and cut off his return.
At last he saw through the smoky curtain the cypresses in Linus's
garden.
The houses beyond the unoccupied field were burning already like
piles of fuel, but Linus's little "insula" stood untouched yet.
Vinieius glanced heavenward with thankfulness, and sprang
toward the house though the very air began to burn him. The door
was closed, but he pushed it open and rushed in.
There was not a living soul in the gardrn, and the house seemed
quke empty. "Perhaps they have fainted from smoke and heat,"
thought Vinicius. He began ro call, -- "Lygia! Lygia!"
Silence answered him. Nothing could be heard in the stillness
there save the roar of the distant fire.
"Lygia!"
Suddenly his ear was struck by that gloomy sound which he had
heard before in that garden. Evidently the vivariun's near the
temple of Esculapius, on the neighboring island, had caught fire. In
this vivarium every kind of wild beast, and among others lions,
began to roar from affright. A shiver ran through Vinicius from
foot to head. Now, a second time, at a moment when his whole
being was concentrated in Lygia, these terrible voices answered, as
a herald of misfortune, as a marvellous prophecy of an ominous
future.
But this was a brief impression, for the thunder of the flames,
more terrible yet than the roaring of wild beasts, commanded him
to think of something else. Lygia did not answer his calls; but she
might be in a faint or stifled in that threatened building. Vinicius
sprang to the interior. The little atrium was empty, and dark with
smoke. Feeling for the door which led to the sleeping-rooms, he
saw the gleaming flame of a small lamp, and approaching it saw
the lararium in which was a cross instead of lares. Under the cross
a taper was burning. Through the head of the young catechumen,
the thought passed with lightning speed that that cross sent him the
taper with which he could find Lygia; hence he took the taper and
searched for the sleeping-rooms. He found one, pushed aside the
curtains, and, holding the taper, looked around.
There was no one there, either. Vinicius was sure that he had
found Lygia's sleeping-room, for her clothing was on nails in the
wall, and on the bed lay a capitium, or close garment worn by
women next the body. Vinicius seized that, pressed it to his lips,
and taking it on his arm went farther. The house was small, so that
he examined every room, and even the cellar quickly. Nowhere
could he find a living soul. It was evident that Lygia, Linus, and
Ursus, with other inhabitants of that part, must have sought safety
in flight.
"I must seek them among the crowd beyond the gates of the city,"
thought Vinicius.
He was not astonished greatly at not meeting them on the Via
Portuensis, for they might have left the Trans-Tiber through the
opposite side along the Vatican Hill. In every case they were safe
from fire at least. A stone fell from his breast. He saw, it is true,
the terrible danger with which the flight was connected, hut he was
comforted at thought of the preterhuman strength of Ursus. "I must
flee now," said he, "and reach the gardens of Agrippina through
the gardens of Domitius, where I shall find them. The smoke is not
so terrible there, since the wind blows from the Sabine Hill."
The hour had come now in which he must think of his own safety,
for the river of fire was flowing nearer and nearer from the
direction of the island, and rolls of smoke covered the alley almost
completely. The taper, which had lighted him in the house, was
quenched from the current of air. Vinicius rushed to the street, and
ran at full speed toward the Via Portuensis, whence he had come;
the fire seemed to pursue him with burning breath, now
surrounding him with fresh clouds of smoke, now covering him
with sparks, which fell on his hair, neck, and clothing. The tunic
began to smoulder on him in places; he cared not, but ran forward
lest he might be stifled from smoke. He had the taste of soot and
burning in his mouth; his throat and lungs were as if on fire. The
blood rushed to his head, and at moments all things, even the
smoke itself, seemed red to him. Then he thought: "This is living
fire! Better cast myself on the ground and perish." The running
tortured him more and more. His head, neck, and shoulders were
streaming with sweat, which scalded like boiling water. Had it not
been for Lygia's name, repeated by him in thought, had it not been
for her capitium, which he wound across his mouth, he would have
fallen. Some moments later he failed to recognize the street along
which he ran. Consciousness was leaving him gradually; he
remembered only that he must flee, for in the open field beyond
waited Lygia, whom Peter had promised him. And all at once he
was seized by a certain wonderful conviction, half feverish, like a
vision before death, that he must see her, marry her, and then die.
But he ran on as if drunk, staggering from one side of the street to
the other. Meanwhile something changed in that monstrous
conflagration which had embraced the giant city. Everything
which till then had only glimmered, burst forth visibly into one sea
of flame; the wind had ceased to bring smoke. That smoke which
had collected in the streets was borne away by a mad whirl of
heated air. That whirl drove with it millions of sparks, so that
Vinicius was running in a fiery cloud as it were. But he was able to
see before him all the better, and in a moment, almost when he
was ready to fall, he saw the end of the street. That sight gave him
fresh strength. Passing the corner, he found himself in a street
which led to the Via Portuensis and the Codetan Field. The sparks
ceased to drive him. He understood that if he could run to the Via
Portuensis he was safe, even were he to faint on it.
At the end of the street he saw again a cloud, as it seemed, which
stopped the exit. "If that is smoke," thought he, "1 cannot pass." He
ran with the remnant of his strength. On the way he threw off his
tunic, which, on fire from the sparks, was burning him like the
shirt of Nessus, having only Lygia's capitium around his head and
before his mouth. When he had run farther, he saw that what he
had taken for smoke was dust, from which rose a multitude of
cries and voices.
"The rabble are plundering houses," thought Vinicius. But he ran
toward the voices. In every case people were there; they might
assist him. In this hope he shouted for aid with all his might before
he reached them. But this was his last effort. It grew redder still in
his eyes, breath failed his lungs, strength failed his hones; he fell.
They heard him, however, or rather saw him. Two men ran with
gourds full of water. Vinicius, who had fallen from exhaustion but
had not lost consciousness, seized a gourd with both hands, and
emptied one-half of it.
"Thanks," said he; "place me on my feet, I can walk on alone."
The other laborer poured water on his head; the two not only
placed him on his feet, but raised him from the ground, and carried
him to the others, who surrounded him and asked if he had
suffered seriously. This tenderness astonished Vinicius.
"People, who are ye?" asked he.
"We are breaking down houses, so that the fire may not reach the
Via Portuensis," answered one of the laborers.
"Ye came to my aid when I had fallen. Thanks to you."
"We are not permitted to refuse aid," answered a number of voices.
Vinicius, who from early morning had seen brutal crowds, slaying
and robbing, looked with more attention on the faces around him,
and said, --
"May Christ reward you."
"Praise to His name!" exclaimed a whole chorus of voices.
"Linus?" inquired Vinicius.
But he could not finish the question or hear the answer, for he
fainted from emotion and over-exertion. He recovered only in the
Codetan Field in a garden, surrounded by a number of men and
women. The first words which he uttered were, --
"Where is Linus?"
For a while there was no answer; then some voice, known to
Vinicius, said all at once, --
"He went out by the Nomentan Gate to Ostrianum two days ago.
Peace be with thee, O king of Persia!"
Vinicius rose to a sitting posture, and saw Chilo before him.
"Thy house is burned surely, O lord," said the Greek, "for the
Carinaee is in flames; but thou wilt be always as rich as Midas.
Oh, what a misfortune! The Christians, O son of Serapis, have
predicted this long time that fire would destroy the city. But Linus,
with the daughter of Jove, is in Ostrianum. Oh, what a misfortune
for the city!"
Vinicius became weak again.
"Hart thou seen them?" he inquired.
"I saw them, O lord. May Christ and all the gods be thanked that I
am able to pay for thy benefactions with good news. But, O Cyrus,
I shall pay thee still more, I swear by this burning Rome."
It was evening, but in the garden one could see as in daylight, for
the conflagration had increased. It seemed that not single parts of
the city were burning, but the whole city through the length and
the breadth of it. The sky was red as far as the eye could see it, and
that night in the world was a red night. _
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