Historical Tales [calibre 5.4.1]

The Doom of Nero

We have perhaps paid too much attention to the enormities of Caligula and Nero. Yet the mad freakishness of the one and the cowardly dissimulation of the other give to their stories a dramatic interest which seems to render them worth repeating. Nero, one of the basest and cruelest of the Roman emperors, is one of the best known to readers, and the interest felt in him is not alone due to the story of his life, but as well to that of his death, which we therefore here give.

A conspiracy against him among some of the noblest citizens of Rome was discovered and punished with revengeful fury. It was followed, a few years afterwards, by a revolt of the armies in Gaul and Spain. This was in its turn quelled, and Nero triumphed in imagination over all his enemies. But he had lost favor alike with the army and the people, and an event now happened that threw the whole city into a ferment of anger against him.

Food was scarce, and the arrival of a ship from Alexandria, supposed to be loaded with corn, filled the people with joy. It proved instead to be loaded with sand for the arena. In their disappointment the people broke at first into scurrilous jests against Nero, and then into rage and fury. A wild clamor filled the streets. On all aides rose the demand to be delivered from a monster. Even the Prætorian guards, who had hitherto supported the emperor, began to show signs of disaffection, and were wrought to a spirit of revolt by two of the choice companions of Nero's iniquities, who now deserted him as rats desert a sinking ship. The senate was approached and told that Nero was no longer supported by his friends, and that they might now regain the power of which they had been deprived.

Some whisper of what was afloat reached Nero's ears. Filled with craven fury, he resolved to massacre the senate, to set fire again to the city, and to let loose his whole collection of wild beasts. He proposed to fly to Egypt during the consternation that would prevail. A trusted servant, to whom he told this design, revealed it to the senate. It filled them with fear and rage. Yet even in so dire a contingency they could not be prevailed upon to act with vigor, and all might have been lost by their procrastination and timidity but for the two men who had organized the revolt.

These men, Nymphidius and Tigellinus by name, went to the palace, and with a show of deep affliction informed Nero of his danger. "All is lost," they said: "the people call aloud for vengeance; the Prætorian guards have abandoned your cause; the senate is ready to pronounce a dreadful judgment. Only one hope remains to you, to fly for your life, and seek a retreat in Egypt"

It was as they said; revolt was everywhere in the air, and affected the armies near and far. Nero sought assistance, but sought it in vain. The palace, lately swarming with life, was now deserted. Nero wandered through its empty chambers, and found only solitude and gloom. Conscience awoke in his seared heart, and he was filled with horror and remorse. Of all his late crowd of courtiers only three friends now remained with him,—Sporus, a servant; Phaon, a freedman; and Epaphroditus, his secretary.

" 'My wife, my father, and my mother doom me dead!' " he bitterly cried, quoting a line from a Greek tragedy.

With a last hope be bade the soldiers on duty to hasten to Ostia and prepare a ship, on which be might embark for Egypt. The men refused.

" 'Is it, then, so wretched a thing to die?' " said one of them, quoting from Virgil.

This refusal threw Nero into despair. He hurried to the Servilian gardens, with a vial of deadly poison, which, on getting there, he had not the courage to take. He returned to the palace and threw himself on his bed. Then, too agitated to lie, he sprang up and called for some friendly hand to end his wretched life. No one consented, and in his wild despair he called out, in doleful accents, "My friends desert me, and I cannot find an enemy"

The world had suddenly fallen away from the despicable Nero. A week before he had ordered it at his will, now "none so poor to do him reverence." His craven terror would have been pitiable in any one to whom the word pity could apply. In frantic dread he rushed from the palace, as if with intent to fling himself into the Tiber. Then as hastily he returned, saying that he would fly to Spain, and yield himself to the mercy of Galba, who commanded the revolted army. But no ship was to be had for either Spain or Egypt, and this plan was abandoned as quickly as formed.

These and other projects passed in succession through his distracted brain. One of the most absurd of them was to go in a mourning garb to the Forum, and by his powers of eloquence seek to win back the favor of the people. If they would not have him as emperor, he might by persuasive oratory obtain from them the government of Egypt.

Full of hope in this new project, he was about to put it into effect, when a fresh reflection filled his soul with horror. What if the populace should, without waiting to hear his harmonious accents and unequalled oratory, break out in sudden rage and rend him limb from limb? Might they not assail him in the palace? Might not a seditious mob be already on its way thither, bent on bloody work? Whither should he fly? Where find refuge?