The event produced, of course, great excitement and commotion throughout the palace. Agrippina was immediately summoned, and as she stood over the dying child she was overwhelmed with terror and distress. Nero, on the other hand, appeared wholly unmoved. "It is only one of his epileptic fits," said he. "Britannicus has been accustomed to them from infancy. He will soon recover."

As soon, however, as there was no longer any room to question that Britannicus was dead, Nero began immediately to make preparations for the burial of the body. The remorse which, notwithstanding his depravity, he could not but feel at having perpetrated such a crime, made him impatient to remove all traces and memorials of it from his sight; and, besides, he was afraid to wait the usual period and then to make arrangements for a public funeral, lest the truth in respect to the death of Britannicus might be suspected by the Romans, and a party be formed to revenge his wrongs. Any tendency of this kind which might exist would be greatly favored, he knew, by the excitement of a public funeral. He determined, therefore, that the body should be immediately buried.

There was another reason still for this dispatch. It seems that one of the effects of the species of poison which Locusta had administered was that the body of the victim was turned black by it soon after death. This discoloration, in fact, began to appear in the face of the corpse of Britannicus before the time for the interment arrived; and Nero, in order to guard against the exposure which this phenomenon threatened, ordered the face to be painted of the natural color, by means of cosmetics, such as the ladies of the court were accustomed to use in those days. By doing this the countenance of the dead was restored to its proper color, and afterward underwent no further change. Still the emperor was naturally impatient to have the body interred.

The preparations were accordingly made that same evening, and in the middle of the night the body of Britannicus was buried in the Field of Mars, a vast parade-ground in the precincts of the city. In addition to the darkness of the night, a violent storm arose, and the rain fell in torrents while the interment proceeded. Very few, therefore, of the people of the city knew what had occurred until the following day. The violence of the storm, however, which promoted in one respect the accomplishment of Nero's designs by favoring the secrecy of the interment, in another respect operated strongly against him, for the face of the corpse became so wet with the fallen rain, that the cosmetic was washed away and the blackened skin was brought to view. The attendants who had the body in charge learned thus that the boy had been poisoned.

On the morning after the funeral the emperor issued a proclamation announcing the death and burial of his brother, and calling upon the Roman Senate and the Roman people for their sympathy and support in the bereavement which he had sustained.

At the time of his death Britannicus was fourteen years old.



CHAPTER VIII.

THE FATE OF AGRIPPINA.

A.D. 55-60

Situation of Agrippina.—Her state of mind.—Nero's views in respect to his mother.—Plans and measures adopted by Agrippina.—Nero establishes his mother as a private lady.—Agrippina finds herself forsaken and friendless.—A plot discovered.—Statement of Paris.—Nero is greatly alarmed.—A council called.—Burrus defends Agrippina.—Agrippina's indignant answer to the charge.—Return of the commissioners to Nero.—Nero is convinced of his mother's innocence.—Nero's course of life.—Riots in the street.—Agrippina lives in seclusion.—Poppaea.—Her influence over Nero.—Her taunts and reproaches.—Effect of them on Nero's mind.—Nero begins to desire the death of his mother.—Great naval celebration at Misenum.—Anicetus.—Proposal of Anicetus.—Nero is pleased with it.—Arrangements for carrying it into effect.—Agrippina goes to Baiae.—Preparations for destroying Agrippina.—Nero bids his mother an affectionate farewell.—Agrippina and her attendant on board the barge.—The result of the attempt.—Narrow escape of Agrippina.—Agrippina and Aceronia in the sea.—Agrippina escapes.—Her message to Nero.—Nero's alarm on bearing of his mother's escape.—Consultation with Seneca and Burrus.—Anicetus undertakes to finish his work.—Anicetus goes to Agrippina's villa.—Conversation.—Agrippina is murdered.—Nero is overwhelmed with remorse and horror.—He becomes more calm.—The dead body.—Burning of the body of Agrippina.

However it may have been with others, Agrippina herself was not deceived by the false pretenses which Nero offered in explanation of his brother's death. She understood the case too well, and the event filled her mind with a tumult of conflicting emotions. Notwithstanding the terrible quarrels which had disturbed her intercourse with the emperor, he was still her son,—her first-born son,—and she loved him as such, even in the midst of the resentment and hostility which her disappointed ambition from time to time awakened in her mind. Her ambition was now more bitterly disappointed than ever. In the death of Britannicus the last link of her power over Nero seemed to be forever sundered. The hand by which he had fallen was still that of her son,—a son to whom she could not but cling with maternal affection, while she felt deeply wounded at what she considered his cruel ingratitude toward her, and vexed and maddened at finding herself so hopelessly circumvented in all her schemes.

As for Nero himself, he had no longer any hope or expectation of being on good terms with his mother again. He saw clearly that her schemes and plans were wholly incompatible with his, and that in order to secure the prosperous accomplishment of his own designs he must now finish the work that he had begun, and curtail and restrict his mother's influence by every means in his power. Other persons he attempted to conciliate. He made splendid presents to the leading men of Rome, as bribes to prevent their instituting inquiries in respect to the death of Britannicus. To some he gave landed estates, to others sums of money, and others still he advanced to high offices of civil or military command. Those whom he most feared he removed from Rome, by giving them honorable and lucrative appointments in distant provinces.

In the mean time Agrippina herself was not idle. As soon as she recovered from the first shock which the death of Britannicus had occasioned her, she began to think of revenge. Within the limits and restrictions which the suspicion and vigilance of Nero imposed upon her, she formed a small circle of friends and adherents, and sought out, diligently, though secretly, all whom she supposed to be disaffected to the government of Nero. She attached herself particularly to Octavia, who, being the daughter of Claudius, succeeded now, on the death of Britannicus, to whatever hereditary rights had been vested in him. She collected money, so far as she had power to do so, from all the resources which remained to her, and she availed herself of every opportunity to cultivate the acquaintance, and court the favor, of all such officers of the army as were accessible to her influence. In a word, she seemed to be meditating some secret scheme for retrieving her fallen fortunes,—and Nero, who watched all her motions with a jealous and suspicious eye, began to be alarmed, not knowing to what desperate extremes her resentment and ambition might urge her.

Up to this time Agrippina had lived in the imperial palace with Nero, forming, with her retinue, a part of his household, and sharing of course, in some sense, the official honors paid to him. Nero now concluded, however, that he would remove her from this position and give her a separate establishment of her own,—making it correspond in its appointments with the secondary and subordinate station to which he intended thenceforth to confine her. He accordingly assigned to her a certain mansion in the city which had formerly been occupied by some branch of the imperial family, and removed her to it, with all her attendants. He dismissed, however, from her service, under various pretexts, such officers and adherents as he supposed were most devoted to her interests and most disposed to join with her in plots and conspiracies against him. The places of those whom he thus superseded were supplied by men on whom he could rely for subserviency to him. He diminished too the number of Agrippina's attendants and guards; he withdrew the sentinels that had been accustomed to guard the gates of her apartments, and dismissed a certain corps of German soldiers that had hitherto served under her command, as a sort of life-guard. In a word he removed her from the scenes of imperial pomp and splendor in which she had been accustomed to move, and established her instead in the position of a private Roman lady.

The unhappy Agrippina soon found that this change in her position made a great change in respect to the degree of consideration and regard which was bestowed upon her by the public. The circle of her adherents and friends was gradually diminished. Her visitors were few. The emperor himself went sometimes to see his mother, but he came always attended with a retinue, and after a brief and formal interview, he retired as ceremoniously as he came,—thus giving to his visit the character simply of a duty of state etiquette. In a word, Agrippina found herself forsaken and friendless, and her mind gradually sank into a condition of hopeless despondency, vexation and chagrin.

Things continued in this state for some time until at length one night when Nero had been drinking and carousing at a banquet in his palace, a well-known courtier named Paris, one of the principal of Nero's companions and favorites, came into the apartment and informed the emperor with a countenance expressive of great concern, that he had tidings of the most serious moment to communicate to him. Nero withdrew from the scene of festivity to receive the communication, and was informed by Paris, that a discovery had been made of a deep-laid and dangerous plot, which Agrippina and certain accomplices of hers had formed. The object of the conspirators, as Paris alledged, was to depose Nero, and raise a certain descendant of Augustus Caesar, named Plautus, to the supreme command, in his stead. This revolution being effected, Agrippina was to marry the new emperor, and thus be restored to her former power.

The statement which Paris made was very full in all its details. The names of the chief conspirators were given, and all the plans explained. The chief witness on whose authority the charge was made, was a celebrated woman of the court, an intimate acquaintance and visitor of Agrippina, named Silana. Silana and Agrippina had been very warm friends, but a terrible quarrel had recently broken out between them, in consequence of some interference on the part of Agrippina, to prevent a marriage, which had been partially arranged between Silana and a distinguished Roman citizen, from being carried into effect. Silana had been exasperated by this ill office, and the revelation which she had made had been the result. Whether such a conspiracy had really been formed, and Silana had been induced to betray the secret in consequence of the injury which Agrippina had inflicted upon her in preventing her marriage, or whether she wholly invented the story under the impulse of a desperate revenge, was never fully known. The historians of the time incline to the latter opinion.

However this may be, Nero was greatly alarmed at the communication which Paris made to him. He immediately abandoned his festivities and carousals, dismissed his guests, and called a council of his most confidential advisers, to consider what was to be done. He stated the case to this council, and announced it as his determination immediately to pronounce sentence of death upon his mother and upon Plautus, and to send officers at once to execute the decree, as the first step to be taken. Burrus, however, strongly dissuaded him from so rash a proceeding. "These are only charges," said he, "at present. We have yet no proofs. An informer has come to you at dead of night with this wild and improbable story, and if we take it for granted at once that it is true, and allow ourselves to act under the influence of excitement and alarm, we should afterward regret our rashness when the consequences could not be retrieved. Besides, Agrippina is your mother; and as it is the right of the humblest person in the commonwealth, when accused of crime, to be heard in answer to the accusation, it would be an atrocious crime to deprive the mother of the emperor of that privilege. Postpone, therefore, pronouncing judgment in this case until we can learn the facts more certainly. I pledge myself to execute sentence of death on Agrippina, if after a fair hearing, this charge is proved against her."

By such arguments and remonstrances as these Nero was in some degree appeased, and it was determined to postpone taking any decisive action in the emergency until the morning. As soon as it was day, Burrus and Seneca, accompanied by several attendants, who were to act as witnesses of the interview, were dispatched to the house of Agrippina to lay the charge before her and to hear what she had to say.

Agrippina was at first somewhat astonished at being summoned at so early an hour to give audience to so formidable a commission; but her proud spirit had become so fierce and desperate under the treatment which she had received from her son, that she was very slightly sensible to fear. She listened, therefore, to the heavy charge which Burrus brought against her, undismayed; and when he paused to hear her reply, instead of excusing and defending herself, and deprecating the emperor's displeasure, she commenced the most severe and angry invectives against her son, for listening for a moment to calumnies against her so wild and improbable. That Silana, who was, as she said, a dissolute and unprincipled woman, and who, consequently, could have no idea of the strength and the fidelity of maternal affection, should think it possible that a mother could form plots and conspiracies against an only son, was not strange; but that Nero himself, for whom she had made such exertions and incurred such dangers, and to whose interests she had surrendered and sacrificed every thing that could be dear to the heart of a woman—could believe such tales, and actually conceive the design of murdering his mother on the faith of them, was not to be endured. "Does not he know well," said she, in a voice almost inarticulate with excitement and indignation, "that, if by any means, Britannicus, or Plautus, or any other man were to be raised to power, my life would be immediately forfeited in consequence of what I have already done for him? Can he imagine, after the deep and desperate crimes which I have committed for his sake, in order that I might raise him to his present power, that I could seal my own destruction by bringing forward any one of his rivals and enemies to his place? Go back and tell him this, and say, moreover, that I demand an audience of him. I am his mother; and I have a right to expect that he shall see me himself, and hear what I have to say."

The commissioners whom Nero had sent with the accusations, were somewhat astonished at receiving these angry denunciations and invectives in reply, instead of the meek and faltering defense which they had expected. They were overawed, too, by the lofty and passionate energy with which Agrippina had spoken. They answered her with soothing and conciliatory words, and then went back to Nero, and reported the result of their interview.

Nero consented to see his mother. In his presence she assumed the same tone of proud and injured innocence, that had characterized her interview with the messengers. She scorned to enter into any vindication of herself; but assumed that she was innocent, and demanded that her accusers should be punished as persons guilty of the most atrocious calumny. Nero was convinced of her innocence, and yielded to her demands. Silana and two others of her accusers, were banished from Rome. Another still was punished with death.

Thus a sort of temporary and imperfect peace was once more established between Nero and his mother.

This state of things continued for about the space of three years. During this time, the public affairs of the empire, as conducted by the ministers of state and the military generals, to whom Nero intrusted them, went on with tolerable prosperity and success, while in every thing that related to personal conduct and character, the condition of the emperor was becoming every day more and more deplorable. He spent his days in sloth and sensual stupor, and his nights in the wildest riot and debauchery. He used to disguise himself as a slave, and sally forth at midnight with a party of his companions similarly attired, into the streets of the city, disturbing the night with riot and noise. Sometimes they would go out at an earlier hour,—while the people were in the streets and the shops were open,—and amuse themselves with seizing the goods and merchandise that they found offered for sale, and assaulting all that came in their way. In these frolics, the emperor and his party were met sometimes by other parties; and in the brawls which ensued Nero was frequently handled very roughly—his opponents not knowing who he was. At one time he was knocked down and very seriously wounded; and in consequence of this adventure, his face was for a long time disfigured with a scar.

Although in these orgies Nero went generally in disguise, yet as he and his companions were accustomed afterward to boast of their exploits, it soon became generally known to the people of the city that their young emperor was in the habit of mingling in these midnight brawls. Of course every wild and dissolute young man in Rome was fired with an ambition to imitate the example set him by so exalted an authority. Midnight riots became the fashion. As the parties grew larger, the brawls which occurred in the streets became more and more serious, until at last Nero was accustomed to take with him a gang of soldiers and gladiators in disguise, who were instructed to follow him within call, so as to be ready to come up instantly to his aid whenever he should require their assistance.

Year after year passed away in this manner, Nero abandoning himself all the time to the grossest sensual pleasures, and growing more and more reckless and desperate every day. His mother lived during this period in comparative seclusion. She attempted to exercise some little restraint over her son, but without success. She attached herself strongly to Octavia, the wife of Nero, and would have defended her, if she could, from the injuries and wrongs which the conduct of Nero as a husband heaped upon her.

At length the young emperor, in following his round of vicious indulgence, formed an intimacy with a certain lady of the court named Poppaea, the wife of Otho, one of Nero's companions in pleasure. Nero sent Otho away on some distant appointment, in order that he might enjoy the society of Poppaea without restraint. At length Poppaea gained so great an ascendency over the mind of the emperor as to seduce him entirely away from his duty to his wife, and she proposed that they should both be divorced and then marry one another. Nero was inclined to accede to this proposal, but Agrippina strongly opposed it. For a time Nero hesitated between the influence of Agrippina and the sentiment of duty, on the one hand, and the enticements of Poppaea on the other. In addition to the influence of her blandishments and smiles, she attempted to act upon Nero's boyish pride by taunting him with what she called his degrading and unmanly subjection to his mother. How long, she asked, was he to remain like a child under maternal tutelage? She wondered how he could endure so ignoble a bondage. He was in name and position, she said, a mighty monarch, reigning absolutely over half the world,—but in actual fact he was a mere nursery boy, who could do nothing without his mother's leave. She was ashamed, she said, to see him in so humiliating a condition; and unless he would take some vigorous measures to free himself from his chains, she declared that she would leave him forever, and go with her husband to some distant quarter of the world where she could no longer be a witness of his disgrace.

The effect of these taunts upon the mind of Nero was very much heightened by the proud and imperious spirit which his mother manifested toward him, and which seemed to become more and more stern and severe, through the growing desperation which the conduct of her son and her own hopeless condition seemed to awaken in her mind. The quarrel, in a word, between the emperor and his mother grew more and more inveterate and hopeless every day. At length he shunned her entirely, and finally, every remaining spark of filial duty having become extinguished, he began to meditate some secret plan of removing her out of his way.

He revolved various projects for accomplishing this purpose, in his mind. He did not dare to employ open violence, as he had no charge against his mother to justify a criminal sentence against her; and he dreaded the effect upon the public mind which would be produced by the spectacle of so unnatural a deed as the execution of a mother by command of her son. He could not trust to poison. Agrippina was perfectly familiar with every thing relating to the poisoning art, and would doubtless be fully on her guard against any attempt of that kind that he might make. Besides, he supposed, that by means of certain antidotes which she was accustomed to use, her system was permanently fortified against the action of every species of poison.

While Nero was revolving these things in his mind, the occasion occurred for a great naval celebration at Baiae, a beautiful bay south of Rome, near what is now the bay of Naples. Baiae was celebrated in ancient times, as it is in fact now, for the beauty of its situation, and it was a place of great resort for the Roman nobility. There was a small, but well-built town at the head of the bay, and the hills and valleys in the vicinity, as well as every headland and promontory along the shore, were ornamented with villas and country-seats, which were occupied as summer residences by the wealthy people of the city. Baiae was also a great naval station, and there was at this time a fleet stationed there,—or rather at the promontory of Misenum, a few miles beyond,—under the command of one of Nero's confidential servants, named Anicetus. The naval celebration was to take place in connection with this fleet. It was an annual festival, and was to continue five days.

Anicetus had been a personal attendant upon Nero in his infancy, and had lived always in habits of great intimacy with him. For some reason or other, too, he was a great enemy to Agrippina, having been always accustomed, when Nero was a child, to take his part in the little contests which had arisen, from time to time, between him and his mother. Anicetus was of course prepared to sympathize very readily with Nero in the hatred which he now cherished toward Agrippina, and when he learned that Nero was desirous of devising some means of accomplishing her death, he formed a plan which he said would effect the purpose very safely. He proposed to invite Agrippina to Baiae, and then, in the course of the ceremonies and manoeuvers connected with the naval spectacle, to take her out upon the bay in a barge or galley. He would have the barge so constructed, he said, that it should go to pieces at sea, making arrangements beforehand for saving the lives of the others, but leaving Agrippina to be drowned.

Nero was greatly pleased with this device, and determined at once to adopt the plan. In order to open the way for carrying it into effect, he pretended, when the time for the festival drew nigh, that he desired to be reconciled to his mother, and that he was ready now to fall in with her wishes and plans. He begged her to forget all his past unkindness to her, and assuring her that his feelings toward her were now wholly changed, he lavished upon her expressions of the tenderest regard. A mother is always very easily deceived by such protestations on the part of a wayward son, and Agrippina believed all that Nero said to her. In a word, the reconciliation seemed to be complete.

At length, when the time for the naval festival drew nigh, Nero, who was then at Baiae, sent an invitation to his mother to come and join him in witnessing the spectacle. Agrippina readily consented to accept the invitation. She was at this time at Antium, the place, it will be recollected, where Nero was born. She accordingly set sail from this place in her own galley, and proceeded to the southward. She landed at one of the villas in the neighborhood of Baiae. Nero was ready upon the shore to meet her. He received her with every demonstration of respect and affection. He had provided quarters for her at Baiae, and there was a splendid barge ready to convey her thither; the plan being that she should embark on board this barge, and leave her own galley,—that is the one by which she had come in from sea,—at anchor at the villa where she landed. The barge in which Agrippina was thus invited to embark, was the treacherous trap that Anicetus had contrived for her destruction. It was, however, to all appearance, a very splendid vessel, being very richly and beautifully decorated, as if expressly intended to do honor to the distinguished passenger whom it was designed to convey.

Agrippina, however, did not seem inclined to go in the barge. She preferred proceeding to Baiae by land. Perhaps, notwithstanding Nero's apparent friendliness she felt still some misgivings, and was afraid to trust herself entirely to his power,—or perhaps she preferred to finish her journey by land only because, in making the passage from Antium, she had become tired of the sea. However this may have been, Nero acquiesced at once in her decision, and provided a sort of sedan for conveying her to Baiae by land. In this sedan she was carried accordingly, by bearers to Baiae, and there lodged in the apartments provided for her.

No favorable opportunity occurred for taking Agrippina out upon the water until the time arrived for her return to Antium. During the time of her stay at Baiae, Nero devoted himself to her with the most assiduous attention. He prepared magnificent banquets for her, and entertained her with a great variety of amusements and diversions. In his conversation he sometimes addressed her with a familiar playfulness and gayety, and at other times he sought occasions to discourse with her seriously on public affairs, in a private and confidential manner. Agrippina was completely deceived by these indications, and her heart was filled with pride and joy at the thought that she had regained the affection and confidence of her son.

Nero and Anicetus determined finally to put their plan into execution by inducing Agrippina to embark on board their barge in returning to Antium, when the time should arrive, instead of going back in her own vessel. Their other attempts to induce her to go out upon the water had failed, and this was the only opportunity that now remained. It was desirable that this embarkation should take place in the night, as the deed which they were contemplating could be more effectually accomplished under the cover of the darkness. Accordingly, on the afternoon of the day on which Agrippina was to return, Nero prepared a banquet for her, and he protracted the festivities and entertainments which attended it until late in the evening, so that it was wholly dark before his mother could take her leave. Anicetus then contrived to have one of the vessels of his fleet run against the galley in which Agrippina had come from Antium, as it lay at anchor near the shore at the place where she had landed. The galley was broken down and disabled by the collision. Anicetus came to Agrippina to report the accident, with a countenance expressive of much concern; but added that the barge which the emperor had prepared for her was at her service, and proposed to substitute that in the place of the one which had been injured. There seemed to be no other alternative, and Agrippina, after taking a very affectionate leave of her son, went gayly, and wholly unconscious of danger, on board the beautiful but treacherous vessel.

It was observed that Nero exhibited an extreme degree of tender regard for his mother in bidding her farewell on this occasion. He hung upon her neck a long time, and kissed her again and again, detaining her by these endearments on the shore, as if reluctant to let her go. After Agrippina's death this scene was remembered by those who witnessed it, but in reflecting upon it they could not decide whether these tokens of affection were all assumed, as belonging to the part which he was so hypocritically acting, or whether he really felt at the last moment some filial relentings, which led him to detain his mother for a time on the brink of the pit which he had been preparing for her destruction. From all, however, that we now know in respect to the personal character which Nero had formed at this period, it is probable that the former is the correct supposition.

The plot, dextrous as the contrivance of it had been, was not destined to succeed. The vessel moved gently from the shore, rowed by the mariners. It was a clear starlight night. The sea was smooth, and the air was calm. Agrippina took her place upon a couch which had been arranged for her, under a sort of canopy or awning, the frame-work of which, above, had been secretly loaded with lead. She was attended here by one of her ladies named Aceronia Polla, who lay at her mistress's feet, and entertained her with conversation as the boat glided along on its way. They talked of Nero—of the kind attentions which he had been paying to Agrippina, and of the various advantages which were to follow from the reconciliation which had been so happily effected. In this manner the hours passed away, and the barge went on until it reached the place which had been determined upon for breaking it down and casting Agrippina into the sea. The spot which had been chosen was so near the land as to allow of the escape of the mariners by swimming, but yet remote enough, as was supposed, to make Agrippina's destruction sure. A few of the mariners were in the secret, and were in some degree prepared for what was to come. Others knew nothing, and were expected to save themselves as they best could, when they should find themselves cast into the sea.

At a given signal the fastenings of the canopy were loosened, and the loaded structure came down suddenly with a heavy crash, carrying away with it other parts of the vessel. One man was crushed under the weight of the falling ruins, and instantly killed. Agrippina and the lady in waiting upon her were saved by the posts of the bed or couch on which Agrippina was reclining, which happened to be in such a position that they held up the impending mass sufficiently to allow the ladies to creep out from beneath it. The breaking down, too, of the deck and bulwarks of the barge was less extensive than had been intended, so that Agrippina not only escaped being crushed by the ruins but she also saved herself at first from being thrown into the sea. The men then who were in the secret of the plot immediately raised a great cry and confusion, and attempted to upset the barge by climbing up upon one side of it—while the others, who did not understand the case, did all they could to save it. In the mean time the noise of the outcries reached the shore, and fishermen's boats began to put off with a view of coming to the rescue of the distressed vessel. Before they arrived, however, the boat had been overturned, Agrippina and Aceronia had been thrown into the sea, and the men who were in the secret of the plot, taking advantage of the darkness and confusion, were endeavoring to seal the fate of their victims, by beating them down with poles and oars as they struggled in the water.



These efforts succeeded in the case of Aceronia, for she uttered loud and continual outcries in her terror, and thus drew upon herself the blows of the assassins. Agrippina, on the other hand, had the presence of mind to keep silence. She received one heavy blow upon the shoulder, which inflicted a serious wound. In other respects she escaped uninjured, and succeeded, partly through the buoyancy of her dress, and partly by the efforts that she made to swim, in keeping herself afloat until she was taken up by the fishermen and conveyed to the shore. She was taken to a villa belonging to her, which was situated not far from the place where the disaster had occurred.

As soon as Agrippina had recovered a little from the terror and excitement of this scene, and had time to reflect upon the circumstances of it, she was convinced that what had occurred was no accident, but the result of a deep-laid design to destroy her life. She, however, thought it most prudent to dissemble her opinion for a time. As soon therefore as she had safely reached her villa, and her wound had been dressed, she dispatched a messenger to Baiae to inform Nero of what had occurred. The vessel in which she had embarked had been wrecked at sea, she said, and she had narrowly escaped destruction. She had received a severe hurt, by some falling spar, but had at length safely reached her home at Antium. She begged, however, that her son would not come to see her, as what she needed most was repose. She had sent the messenger, she said, to inform him of what had occurred only that he might rejoice with her in the signal interposition of divine providence by which she had been rescued from so imminent a danger.

In the mean time Nero was waiting impatiently and anxiously in his palace at Baiae, for the arrival of a messenger from Anicetus to inform him that his plot had been successful, and that his mother was drowned. Instead of this a rumor of her escape reached him some time before Agrippina's messenger arrived, and threw him into consternation. People came from the coast and informed him that the barge in which his mother had sailed had been wrecked, and that Agrippina had narrowly escaped with her life. The particulars were not fully given to him, but he presumed that Agrippina must have learned that the occurrence was the result of a deliberate attempt to destroy her, and he was consequently very much alarmed. He dreaded the desperate spirit of resentment and revenge which he presumed had been aroused in his mother's mind.

He forthwith sent for Burrus and Seneca, and revealed to them all the circumstances of the case. He made the most bitter accusations against his mother, in justification of his attempt to destroy her. He had long been convinced, he said, that there could be no peace or safety for him as long as she lived, and now, at all events, since he had undertaken the work of destroying her and made the attempt, no alternative was left to him but to go on and finish what he had begun. "She must die now," said he, "or she will most assuredly contrive some means to destroy me."

Seneca and Burrus were silent. They knew not what to say. They saw very clearly that a crisis had arrived, the end of which would be, that one or the other must perish, and consequently the only question for them to decide was, whether the victim should be the mother or the son. At length, after a long and solemn pause, Seneca looked to Burrus, and inquired whether the soldiers under his command could be relied upon to execute death upon Agrippina. Burrus shook his head. The soldiers, he said, felt such a veneration for the family of Germanicus, which was the family from which Agrippina had sprung, that they would perform no such bloody work upon any representative of it. "Besides," said he, "Anicetus has undertaken this duty. It devolves on him to finish what he has begun."

Anicetus readily undertook the task. He had, in fact, a personal interest in it, for, after what had passed, he knew well that there could be no safety for him while Agrippina lived. Nero seemed overjoyed at finding Anicetus so ready to meet his wishes. "Be prompt," said he, "in doing what you have to do. Take with you whom you please to assist you. If you accomplish the work, I shall consider that I owe my empire to your fidelity."

Anicetus, having thus received his commission, ordered a small detachment from the fleet to accompany him, and proceeded to the villa where Agrippina had taken refuge. He found a crowd of country people assembled around the gates of the villa. They had been drawn thither by the tidings of the disaster which had happened to Agrippina, curious to learn all the particulars of the occurrence, or desirous, perhaps, to congratulate Agrippina on her escape. When these peasantry saw the armed band of Anicetus approaching, they know not what it meant, but were greatly alarmed, and fled in all directions.

The guards at the gates of Agrippina's villa made some resistance to the entrance of the soldiers, but they were soon knocked down and overpowered; the gates were burst open, and Anicetus entered at the head of his party of marines. Agrippina, who was upon her bed in an inner chamber at the time, heard the noise and tumult, and was greatly alarmed. A number of friends who were with her, hearing the footsteps of the armed men on the stairs, fled from the chamber in dismay, by a private door, leaving Agrippina alone with her maid. The maid, after a moment's pause, fled too, Agrippina saying to her as she disappeared, "Are you, too, going to forsake me?" At the same moment, Anicetus forced open the door of entrance, and came in accompanied by two of his officers. The three armed men, with an expression of fierce and relentless determination upon their countenances, advanced to Agrippina's bedside.

Agrippina was greatly terrified, but she preserved some degree of outward composure, and raising herself in her bed, she looked steadily upon her assassins.

"Do you come from my son?" said she.

They did not answer.

"If you came to inquire how I am," said she, "tell him that I am better, and shall soon be entirely well. I can not believe that he can possibly have sent you to do me any violence or harm."

At this instant one of the assassins struck at the wretched mother with his club. The arm, however, of the most hardened and unrelenting monster, usually falters somewhat at the beginning, in doing such work as this, and the blow gave Agrippina only an inconsiderable wound. She saw at once, however, that all was lost—that the bitter moment of death had come,—but instead of yielding to the emotions of terror and despair which might have been expected to overwhelm the heart of a woman in such a scene, her fierce and indomitable spirit aroused itself to new life and vigor in the terrible emergency. As the assassins approached her with their swords brandished in the air, preparing to strike her, she threw the bed-clothes off, so as to uncover her person, and called upon her murderers to strike her in the womb. "It is there," said she, "that the stab should be given when a mother is to be murdered by her son." She was instantly thrust through with a multitude of wounds in every part of her body, and died weltering in the blood that flowed out upon the couch on which she lay.

Anicetus and his comrades, when the deed was done, gazed for a moment on the lifeless body, and then gathering together again the soldiers that they had left at the gates, they went back to Baiae with the tidings. The first emotion which Nero experienced, on hearing that all was over, was that of relief. He soon found, however, that monster as he was, his conscience was not yet so stupefied, that he could perpetrate such a deed as this without bringing out her scourge. As soon as he began to reflect upon what he had done, his soul was overwhelmed with remorse and horror. He passed the remainder of the night in dreadful agony, sometimes sitting silent and motionless—gazing into vacancy, as if his faculties were bewildered and lost, and then suddenly starting up, amazed and trembling, and staring wildly about, as if seized with a sudden frenzy. His wild and ghastly looks, his convulsive gesticulations, and his incoherent ravings and groans, indicated the horror that he endured, and were so frightful that his officers and attendants shrunk away from his presence, and knew not what to do.

At length they sent in one after another to attempt to calm and console him. Their efforts, however, were attended with little success. When the morning came, it brought with it some degree of composure; but the dreadful burden of guilt which pressed upon Nero's mind made him still unutterably wretched. He said that he could not endure any longer to remain on the spot, as every thing that he saw, the villas, the ships, the sea, the shore, and all the other objects around him, were so associated in his mind with the thought of his mother, and with the remembrance of his dreadful crime, that he could not endure them.

In the mean time, as soon as the servants and attendants at Agrippina's villa found that Anicetus and his troop had gone, they returned to the chamber of their mistress and gazed upon the spectacle which awaited them there, with inexpressible horror. Anicetus had left some of his men behind to attend to the disposal of the body, as it was important that it should be removed from sight without delay, since it might be expected that all who should look upon it would be excited to a high pitch of indignation against the perpetrators of such a crime. The countenance, in the condition of repose which it assumed after death, appeared extremely beautiful, and seemed to address a mute but touching appeal to the commiseration of every beholder. It was necessary, therefore, to hurry it away. Besides, the soldiers themselves were impatient. They wished to get through with their horrid work and be gone.

They accordingly built a funeral pile in the garden of the villa,—using such materials for the purpose as came most readily to hand—and then took up the body of Agrippina on the bed upon which it lay, and placed all together upon the pile. The fires were lighted. The soldiers watched by the side of it until the pile was nearly consumed, and then went away, leaving the heart-broken domestics of Agrippina around the smoldering embers.



CHAPTER IX.

EXTREME DEPRAVITY.

A.D. 62-64

The atrocity of Nero's crime in murdering Agrippina.—Nero's messages to the senate.—Action of the senate.—Nero divorces Octavia and marries Poppaea.—Octavia banished from Rome.—Anicetus.—Octavia's unhappy destiny.—Charges against her.—She is put to death.—Extreme depravity.—Nero recovers from his remorse.—His various crimes.—Public affairs neglected.—His performances on the stage.—Musical training.—Nero's success.—His trained applauders.—Rules and regulations at the theater.—Races and games.—Nero generally the victor.—His private conduct and character.—His midnight brawls.—Rioting and excess.—His great feasts.—The artificial lake.—Immense sums of money expended by Nero.—His favorites.—His excursions to Ostia.—The burning of Rome.—Nero accused of being the incendiary.—His probable motives.—He comes to see the fire.—He celebrates the occasion by a song.

There was nothing in the attendant circumstances that were connected with the act of Nero in murdering his mother, which could palliate or extenuate the deed in the slightest degree. It was not an act of self-defense. Agrippina was not doing him, or intending to do him any injury. It was not an act of hasty violence, prompted by sudden passion. It was not required by any political necessity as a means for accomplishing some great and desirable public end. It was a cool, deliberate, and well-considered crime, performed solely for the purpose of removing from the path of the perpetrator of it an obstacle to the commission of another crime. Nero murdered his mother in cool blood, simply because she was in the way of his plans for divorcing his innocent wife, and marrying adulterously another woman.

For some time after the commission of this great crime, the mind of Nero was haunted by dreadful fears, and he suffered continually, by day and by night, all the pangs of remorse and horror. He did not dare to return to Rome, not knowing to what height the popular indignation, that would be naturally excited by so atrocious a deed, might rise; or what might be the consequences to him if he were to appear in the city. He accordingly remained for a time on the coast at Neapolis, the town to which he had retired from Baiae. From this place he sent various communications to the Roman Senate, explaining and justifying what he called the execution of his mother. He pretended that he had found her guilty of treasonable conspiracies against him and against the state, and that her death had been imperiously demanded, as the only means of securing the public safety. The senators hated Nero and abhorred his crimes; but they were overawed by the terrible power which he exercised over them through the army, which they knew was entirely subservient to his will, and by their dread of his ruthless and desperate character. They passed resolves approving of what he had done. His officers and favorites at Rome sent him word that the memory of Agrippina was abhorred at the capital, and that in destroying her, he was considered as having rendered a great service to the state. These representations in some measure reassured his mind, and at length he returned to the city.

In due time he divorced Octavia, and married Poppaea. Octavia, however, still remained at Rome, residing in apartments assigned her in one of the imperial palaces. Her high birth and distinguished position, and, more than all, the sympathy that was felt for her in her misfortunes, made her an object of great attention. The people put garlands upon her statues in the public places in the city, and pulled down those which were placed at Nero's command upon those of Poppaea. These and other indications of the popular feeling, inflamed Poppaea's hatred and jealousy to such a degree, that she suborned one of Octavia's domestics to accuse her mistress of an ignominious crime. When thus accused, other women in Octavia's service were put to the rack to compel them to testify against her. They, however, persevered, in the midst of their tortures, in asserting her innocence. Poppaea, nevertheless, insisted that she should be condemned, and at last, by way of compromising the case, Nero consented to banish her from the city.

She was sent to a villa on the sea-coast, in the neighborhood of the place where Anicetus was stationed with his fleet. But Poppaea would not allow her to live in peace even as an exile. She soon brought a charge against her of having formed a conspiracy against the government of Nero, and of having corrupted Anicetus, with a view of obtaining the co-operation of the fleet in the execution of treasonable designs. Anicetus himself testified to the truth of this charge. He said that Octavia had formed such a plan, and that she had given herself up, in person, wholly to him, in order to induce him to join in it. Octavia was accordingly condemned to die.

Notwithstanding the testimony of Anicetus, Octavia was not at the time generally believed to be guilty of the charge on which she was condemned. It was supposed that Anicetus was induced, by promises and bribes from Nero and Poppaea, to fabricate the story, in order that they might have a pretext for putting Octavia to death. However this may be, the unhappy princess was condemned, and the sentence pronounced upon her was, that she must die.

The life of Octavia, lofty as her position was in respect to earthly grandeur, had been one of uninterrupted suffering and sorrow. She had been married to Nero when a mere child, and during the whole period of her connection with her husband he had treated her with continual unkindness and neglect. She had at length been cruelly divorced from him, and banished from her native city on charges of the most ignominious nature, though wholly false—and before this last accusation was made against her there seemed to be nothing before her but the prospect of spending the remainder of her days in a miserable and hopeless exile. Still she clung to life, and when the messengers of Nero came to tell her that she must die, she was overwhelmed with agitation and terror.

She begged and implored them with tears and agony, to spare her life. She would never, she said, give the emperor any trouble, or interfere in any way with any of his plans. She gave up willingly all claims to being his wife, and would always consider herself as only his sister. She would live in retirement and seclusion in any place where Nero might appoint her abode, and would never occasion him the slightest uneasiness whatever. The executioners cut short these entreaties by seizing the unhappy princess in the midst of them, binding her limbs with thongs, and opening her veins. She fainted, however, under this treatment, and when the veins were opened the wretched victim lay passive and insensible in the hands of her executioners, and the blood would not flow. So they carried her to a steam-bath which happened to be in readiness near at hand, and shutting her up in it, left her to be suffocated by the vapor.

Thus the great crowning crime of Nero's life,—for the murder of Agrippina, the adulterous marriage with Poppaea, and the subsequent murder of Octavia, are to be regarded as constituting one single though complicated crime,—was consummate and complete. It was a crime of the highest possible atrocity. To open the way to an adulterous marriage by the deliberate and cruel murder of a mother, and then to seal and secure it by murdering an innocent wife,—blackening her memory at the same time with an ignominy wholly undeserved, constitute a crime which for unnatural and monstrous enormity must be considered as standing at the head of all that human depravity has ever achieved.

Nero gradually recovered from the remorse and horror with which the commission of these atrocities at first overwhelmed him; and in order to hasten his relief he plunged recklessly into every species of riot and excess, and in the end hardened himself so completely in crime, that during the remainder of his life he perpetrated the most abominable deeds without any apparent compunction whatever. He killed Poppaea herself at last with a kick, which he gave her in a fit of passion at a time when circumstances were such with her that the violence brought on a premature and unnatural sickness. He afterward ordered her son to be drowned in the sea, by his slaves, when he was a-fishing, because he understood that the boy, in playing with the other children, often acted the part of an emperor. His general Burrus he poisoned. He sent him the poison under pretense that it was a medical remedy for a swelling of the throat under which Burrus was suffering. Burrus drank the draught under that impression and died. He destroyed by similar means in the course of his life great numbers of his relatives and officers of state, so that there was scarcely a person who was brought into any degree of intimate connection with him that did not sooner or later come to a violent end.

During his whole reign Nero neglected the public affairs of the empire almost altogether,—apparently regarding the vast power, and the immense resources that were at his command, as only means for the more complete gratification of his own personal propensities and passions. The only ambition which ever appeared to animate him was a desire for fame as a singer and actor on the stage.

At the time when he commenced his career it was considered wholly beneath the dignity of any Roman of rank to appear in any public performance of that nature; but Nero, having conceived in his youth a high idea of his merit as a singer, devoted himself with great assiduity to the cultivation of his voice, and, as he was encouraged in what he did by the flatterers that of course were always around him, his interest in the musical art became at length an extravagant passion. He submitted with the greatest patience to the rigorous training customary in those times for the development and improvement of the voice; such as lying for long periods upon his back, with a weight of lead upon his breast, in order to force the muscles of the chest to extraordinary exertion, for the purpose of strengthening them—and taking medicines of various kinds to clear the voice and reduce the system. He was so much pleased with the success of these efforts, that he began to feel a great desire to perform in public upon the stage. He accordingly began to make arrangements for doing this. He first appeared in private exhibitions, in the imperial palaces and gardens, where only the nobility of Rome and invited guests were present. He, however, gradually extended his audiences, and at length came out upon the public stage,—first, however, in order to prepare the public mind for what they would have otherwise considered a great degradation, inducing the sons of some of the principal nobility to come forward in similar entertainments. He was so pleased with the success which he imagined that he met with in this career that he devoted a large part of his time during his whole life to such performances. Of course, his love of applause in his theatrical career, increased much too fast to be satisfied with the natural and ordinary means of gratifying it, and he accordingly made arrangements, most absurdly, to create for his performances a fictitious and counterfeit celebrity. At one time he had a corps of five thousand men under pay to applaud him, in the immense circuses and amphitheaters where he performed. These men were regularly trained to the work of applauding, as if it were an art to be acquired by study and instruction. It was an art, in fact, as they practiced it,—different modes of applause being designated for different species of merit, and the utmost precision being required on the part of the performers, in the concert of their action, and in their obedience to the signals. He used also to require on the days when he was to perform, that the doors of the theater should be closed when the audience had assembled, and no egress allowed on any pretext whatever. Such regulations of course excited great complaint, and much ridicule; especially as the sessions at these spectacles were sometimes protracted and tiresome to the last degree. Even sudden sickness was not a sufficient reason for allowing a spectator to depart, and so it was said that the people used sometimes to feign death, in order to be carried out to their burial. In some cases, it was said, births took place in the theaters, the mothers having come incautiously with the crowd to witness the spectacles, without properly considering what might be the effect of the excitement, and then afterward not being permitted to retire.

Besides singing and acting on the stage, Nero took part in every other species of public amusement. He entered as a competitor for the prize in races and games of every kind. Of course he always came off victor. This end was accomplished sometimes by the secret connivance of the other competitors, and sometimes by open bribery of the judges. Nero's ridiculous vanity and self-conceit seemed to be fully gratified by receiving the prize, without any regard whatever to the question of deserving it. He used to come back sometimes from journeys to foreign cities, where he had been performing on the stage at great public festivals, and enter Rome in triumph, with the garlands, and crowns, and other decorations which he had won, paraded before him in the procession, in the manner in which distinguished commanders had been accustomed to display the trophies of their military victories, when returning from foreign campaigns.

In fact it was only in the perpetration of such miserable follies as these that Nero appeared before the public at all, and in his private conduct and character he sank very rapidly, after he came into power, to the very lowest degree of profligacy and vice. After having spent the evening in drinking and debauchery, he would sally forth into the streets at midnight, as has already been stated, to mingle there with the vilest men and women of the town in brawls and riots. On these excursions he would attack such peaceable parties as he chanced to meet in the streets, and if they made resistance, he and his companions would beat them down and throw them into canals or open sewers. Sometimes in these combats he was beaten himself, and on one occasion he came very near losing his life, having been almost killed by the blows dealt upon him by a certain Roman senator, whose wife he insulted as she was walking with her husband in the street. The senator, of course, did not know him. He used to go to the theater in disguise, in company with a gang of companions of similar character to himself, and watch for opportunities to excite or encourage riots or tumults there. Whenever he could succeed in urging these tumults on to actual violence he would mingle in the fray, and throw stones and fragments of broken benches and furniture among the people.

After a while, when he had grown more bold and desperate in his wickedness, he began to lay aside all disguise, and at last he actually seemed to take a pride and pleasure in exhibiting the scenes of riot and excess in which he engaged, in the most impudent manner before the public gaze. He used to celebrate great feasts in the public amphitheaters, and on the arena of the circus, and carouse there in company with the most dissolute men and women of the city—a spectacle to the whole population. There was a large artificial lake or reservoir in one part of the city, built for the purpose of exhibiting mimic representations of the manoeuvers of fleets, and naval battles, for the amusement of the people at great public celebrations. There were, of course, numerous ranges of seats around the margin of this lake for the accommodation of the spectators. Nero took possession of this structure for some of his carousals, in order to obtain greater scope for ostentation and display. The water was drawn off on such occasions and the gates shut, and then the bottom of the reservoir was floored over to make space for the tables.

The sums of money which Nero spent in the pursuit of sensual pleasures were incalculable. In fact there were no bounds to his extravagance and profusion. He had command, of course, of all the treasure of the empire, and he procured immense sums besides, by fines, confiscations, and despotic exactions of various kinds; and as he undertook no public enterprises—being seldom engaged in foreign wars, and seldom attempting any useful constructions in the city—the vast resources at his command were wholly devoted to the purposes of ostentatious personal display, and sensual gratifications. The pomp and splendor of his feasts, his processions, his journeys of pleasure, and the sums that he is said to have lavished sometimes in money and jewels, and sometimes in villas, gardens, and equipages, upon his favorites, both male and female, are almost incredible. On some of the pleasure excursions which he took to the mouth of the Tiber, he would have the banks of the river lined with booths and costly tents all the way from the river to the sea. These tents were provided with sumptuous entertainments, and with beds and couches for repose; and they were all attended by beautiful girls who stood at the doors of them inviting Nero and his party to land, as they passed along the river in their barges. He used to fish with a golden net, which was drawn by silken cords of a rich scarlet color. Occasionally he made grand excursions of pleasure through Italy or into Greece, in the style of royal progresses. In these expeditions he sometimes had no less than a thousand carts to convey his baggage—the mules that drew them being all shod with silver, and their drivers dressed in scarlet clothes of the most costly character. He was attended, also, on these excursions, by a numerous train of footmen, and of African servants, who wore rich bracelets upon their arms, and were mounted on horses splendidly caparisoned.

One of the most remarkable of the events which occurred during Nero's reign was what was called the burning of Rome,—a great conflagration, by which a large part of the city was destroyed. It was very generally believed at the time that this destruction was the work of Nero himself,—the fruit of his reckless and willful depravity. There is, it is true, no very positive proof that the fire was set by Nero's orders, though one of the historians of the time states that confidential servants belonging to Nero's household were seen, when the fire commenced, going from house to house with combustibles and torches, spreading the flames. He was himself at Antium at the time, and did not come to Rome until the fire had been raging for many days. If it is true that the fire was Nero's work, it is not supposed that he designed to cause so extensive a conflagration. He intended, perhaps, only to destroy a few buildings that covered ground which he wished to occupy for the enlargement of his palaces; though it was said by some writers that he really designed to destroy a great part of the city, with a view to immortalize his name by rebuilding it in a new and more splendid form. With these motives, if these indeed were his motives, there was doubtless mingled a feeling of malicious gratification at any thing that would terrify and torment the miserable subjects of his power. When he came to Rome from Antium at the time that the conflagration was at its height, he found the whole city a scene of indescribable terror and distress. Thousands of the people had been burned to death or crushed beneath the ruins of the fallen houses. The streets were filled with piles of goods and furniture burnt and broken. Multitudes of men, though nearly exhausted with fatigue, were desperately toiling on, in hopeless endeavors to extinguish the flames, or to save some small remnant of their property,—and distracted mothers, wild and haggard from terror and despair, were roaming to and fro, seeking their children,—some moaning in anguish, and some piercing the air with loud and frantic outcries. Nero was entertained by the scene as if it had been a great dramatic spectacle. He went to one of the theaters, and taking his place upon the stage he amused himself there with singing and playing a celebrated composition on the subject of the burning of Troy. At least it was said and generally believed in the city that he did so, and the minds of the people were excited against the inhuman monster to the highest pitch of indignation. In fact, Nero seems to have thought at last that he had gone too far, and he began to make efforts in earnest to relieve the people from some portion of their distress. He caused great numbers of tents to be erected in the parade-ground for temporary shelter, and brought fresh supplies of corn into the city to save the people from famine. These measures of mercy, however, came too late to retrieve his character. The people attributed the miseries of this dreadful calamity to his desperate maliciousness, and he became the object of universal execration.



CHAPTER X.

PISO'S CONSPIRACY.

A.D. 65

Origin and nature of Piso's conspiracy.—Lucan, the Latin poet.—His quarrel with Nero.—Lateranus.—Celebrity of his name.—The church of St. John Lateran.—Fenius Rufus.—A woman in the secret.—Plans and arrangements of the conspirators.—Bold proposals of Flavius.—The palace to be set on fire.—Epicharis impatient.—She goes to the fleet.—She communicates with Proculus at Misenum.—Proculus reveals the plot to Nero.—Nero perplexed.—Epicharis imprisoned.—A new plan.—Piso's objections.—Reasons.—Final arrangements agreed upon.—Nero to be slain in the theatre.—The several parts assigned.—Scevinus.—Excitement of Scevinus.—His knife.—He gives his knife to Milichus to be ground.—Milichus confers with his wife.—Their suspicions.—Revelations made by Milichus.—Scevinus's defense.—He denies the allegations of his accuser.—Nero perplexed.—The truth at last discovered.—Scevinus and Natalis make a full confession.

Although the people of Rome were generally so overawed by the terror of Nero's power, that for a long period no one dared to make any open resistance to his will, still his excesses and cruelties excited in the minds of men a great many secret feelings of resentment and detestation. At one period in the course of his reign a very desperate conspiracy was formed by some of the leading men of the state, to dethrone and destroy the tyrant. This plot was a very extensive and a very formidable one. It was, however, accidentally discovered before it was fully mature, and thus was unsuccessful. It is known in history as Piso's Conspiracy—deriving its name from that of the principal leader of it, Caius Calpurnius Piso.

It is not supposed, however, that Piso was absolutely the originator of the conspiracy, nor is it known, in fact, who the originator of it was. A great number of prominent men were involved in the plot—men who, possessing very different characters, and occupying very different stations in life, were probably induced by various motives to take part in the conspiracy. A conspiracy, however, of this kind, against so merciless a tyrant as Nero, is an enterprise of such frightful danger, and is attended, if unsuccessful, with such awful consequences to all concerned in it, that men will seldom engage in such a scheme until goaded to desperation, and almost maddened, by the wrongs which they have endured.

And yet the exasperation which these conspirators felt against Nero, seems to have been produced, in some instances at least, by what we should now consider rather inadequate causes. For example, one of the men most active in this secret league, was the celebrated Latin poet Lucan. In the early part of his life, Lucan had been one of Nero's principal flatterers, having written hymns and sonnets in his praise. At length, as it was said, some public occasion occurred in which verses were to be recited in public, for a prize. Nero, who imagined himself to excel in every human art or attainment, offered some of his own verses in the competition. The prize, however, was adjudged to Lucan. Nero's mind was accordingly filled with envy and hate toward his rival, and he soon found some pretext for forbidding Lucan ever to recite any verses in public again. This of course exasperated Lucan in his turn, and was the cause of his joining in the conspiracy.

Another of the conspirators was a certain Roman nobleman, whose family name has since become very widely known in all parts of the civilized world, through an estate in the city with which it was associated,—which estate, and certain buildings erected upon it, became subsequently greatly celebrated in the ecclesiastical history of Rome. The name of this nobleman was Plautius Lateranus. When Lateranus was put to death at the detection of the conspiracy, in the manner to be presently described, his estate was confiscated. The palace and grounds thus became the property of the Roman emperors. In process of time, the emperor Constantine gave the place to the pope, and from that period it continued to be the residence of the successive pontiffs for a thousand years. A church was built upon the ground, called the Basilica of St. John of Lateran, where many ancient councils were held, known in ecclesiastical history as the councils of the Lateran. This church is still used for some of the ceremonies connected with the inauguration of the pope, but the palace is now uninhabited. It presents, however, in its ruins, a vast and imposing, though desolate aspect.

Lateranus was an unprincipled and dissolute man, and in consequence of certain crimes which he committed in connection with Messalina, during the reign of Claudius, he had been condemned to death. The sentence of death was not executed, though Lateranus was deprived of his rank, and doomed to live in retirement and disgrace. At the death of Claudius, and the accession of Nero, Lateranus was fully pardoned and restored to his former rank and position, through Nero's instrumentality. It might have been supposed that gratitude for these favors would have prevented Lateranus from joining such a conspiracy as this against his benefactor, but gratitude has very little place in the hearts of those who dwell in the courts and palaces of such tyrants as Nero.

The man on whom the conspirators relied most for efficient military aid, so far as such aid should be needed in their enterprise, was a certain Fenius Rufus, a captain of the imperial guards. He was a man of very resolute and decided character, and was very highly esteemed by the people of Rome. He was not one of the originators of the plot, but joined it at a later period; and when the news of his accession to it was communicated to the rest, it gave them great encouragement, as they attached great importance to the adhesion of such a man to their cause. They now immediately began to take measures for executing their plans.

There was a woman in the secret of this conspiracy, though how she obtained a knowledge of it no one seemed to know. Her name was Epicharis. While the execution of the plans of the confederates was delayed, Epicharis came to the principal conspirators privately, first to one and then to another, and urged them to action. None of the members of the plot would admit that they had given her any information on the subject, and how she obtained her information no one could tell. She was a woman of bad character, and as such women often are, she was violent and implacable in her hatred. She hated Nero, and was so impatient at the delay of the conspirators that she made repeated and earnest efforts to urge them on.

The conspirators in the mean time held various secret meetings to mature their plans, and to complete the preparation for the execution of them. They designed to destroy Nero by some violent means, and then to cause Piso to be proclaimed emperor in his place. Piso was a man well suited for their purpose in this respect. He was tall and graceful in form, and his personal appearance was in every respect prepossessing. His rank was very high, and he was held in great estimation by all the people of the city for the many generous and noble qualities that he possessed. He was allied, too, to the most illustrious families of Rome, and he occupied in all respects so conspicuous a position, and was so much an object of popular favor, that the conspirators believed that his elevation to the empire could easily be effected, if Nero himself could once be put out of the way. To effect the assassination of Nero, therefore, was the first step.

After much debate, and many consultations in respect to the best course to be pursued, it was decided to accept the offer of a certain Subrius Flavius, who undertook to kill the emperor in the streets, at night, at some time when he was roaming about in his carousals. Flavius, in fact, was very daring and resolute in his proposals, though wanting, as it proved in the end, in the fulfillment of them. He offered to stab Nero in the theater, when he was singing on the stage, in the midst of all the thousands of spectators convened there. This the conspirators thought, it seems, an unnecessarily bold and desperate mode of accomplishing the end in view, and the plan was accordingly overruled. Flavius then proposed to set the palace on fire some night when Nero was out in the city, and then, in the confusion that would ensue, and while the attention of the guards who had accompanied Nero should be drawn toward the fire, to assassinate the emperor in the streets. This plan was acceded to by the conspirators, and it was left to Flavius to select a favorable time for the execution of it.

Time passed on, however, and nothing was done. The favorable time which Flavius looked for did not appear. In the meanwhile Epicharis became more and more impatient of the delay. She urged the conspirators to do their work, and chided in the strongest terms their irresolution and pusillanimity. At length finding that her invectives and reproaches were of no avail, she determined to leave them, and to see what she could do herself toward the attainment of the end.

She accordingly left Rome and proceeded southwardly along the coast till she came to Misenum, which, as has already been said, was the great naval station of the empire at this time. Epicharis went to some of the officers of the fleet, many of whom she knew,—and in a very secret and cautious manner made known to them the nature of the plot which had been formed at Rome for the destruction of Nero and the elevation of Piso to the empire in his stead. Before, however, communicating intelligence of the conspiracy to any persons whatever, Epicharis would converse with them secretly and confidentially to learn how they were affected toward Nero and his government. If she found them well disposed she said nothing. If on the other hand any one appeared discontented with the government, or hostile to it in any way, she would cautiously make known to him the plans which were concocting at Rome for the overthrow of it. She took care, however, in these conversations to have never more than one person present with her at a time, and she revealed none of the names of the conspirators.

Among the other officers of the fleet was a certain Proculus, who was one of the first with whom Epicharis communicated. Proculus was one of the men who had been employed by Nero in his attempts to assassinate Agrippina his mother, and for his services on that occasion had been promoted to the command of a certain number of ships, a number containing in all one thousand men. This promotion, however, as Epicharis found when she came to converse with him, Proculus did not consider as great a reward as his services had deserved. The perpetration of so horrible a crime as the murder of the emperor's mother, merited, in his opinion, as he said to Epicharis, a much higher recompense than the command of a thousand men. Epicharis thought so too. She talked with Proculus about his wrongs, and the injuries which he suffered from Nero's ingratitude and neglect, until she fancied that he was in a state of mind which would prepare him to join in the plans of the conspirators, and then she cautiously unfolded them to him.

Proculus listened with great apparent interest to Epicharis's communication, and pretended to enter very cordially into the plan of the conspiracy; but as soon as the interview was ended he immediately left Misenum, and proceeded immediately to Rome, where he divulged the whole design to Nero.

Nero was exceedingly alarmed, and sent officers off at once to seize Epicharis and bring her before him. Epicharis, when questioned and confronted with Proculus, resolutely denied that she had ever held any such conversation with Proculus as he alledged, and feigned the utmost astonishment at what she termed the impudence of his accusation. She called for witnesses and proofs. Proculus of course could produce none, for Epicharis had taken care that there should be no third person present at their interviews. Proculus could not even give the names of any of the conspirators at Rome. He could only persist in his declaration that Epicharis had really disclosed to him the existence of the conspiracy, and had proposed to him to join in it; while she on the contrary as strenuously and positively denied it. Nero was perplexed. He found it impossible to determine what to believe. He finally dismissed Proculus, and sent Epicharis to prison, intending that she should remain there until he could make a more full examination into the case, and determine what to do.

In the mean time the conspirators became considerably alarmed when they heard of the arrest of Epicharis, and though they knew that thus far she had revealed nothing, they could not tell how soon her fidelity and firmness might yield under the tortures to which she was every day liable to be subjected; and as there appeared to be now no prospect that Flavius would ever undertake to execute his plan, they began to devise some other means of attaining the end.

It seems that Piso possessed at this time a villa and country-seat at Baiae, on the coast south of Rome, and near to Misenum, and that Nero was accustomed sometimes to visit Piso here. It was now proposed by some of the conspirators that Piso should invite Nero to visit him at this villa, as if to witness some spectacles or shows which should be arranged for his entertainment there, and that then persons employed for the purpose should suddenly assassinate him, when off his guard, in the midst of some scene of convivial pleasure. Piso, however, objected to this plan. He conceived, he said, that it would be dishonorable in him to commit an act of violence upon a guest whom he had invited under his roof, as his friend. He was willing to take his full share of the responsibility of destroying the tyrant in any fair and manly way, but he would not violate the sacred rites of hospitality to accomplish the end.

So this plan was abandoned. It was supposed, however, that Piso had another and a deeper reason for his unwillingness that Nero should be assassinated at Baiae than his regard for his honor as a host. He thought, it was said, that it would not be safe for him to be away from Rome when the death of Nero should be proclaimed in the capitol, lest some other Roman nobleman or great officer of state should suddenly arise in the emergency and assume the empire. There were, in fact, one or two men in Rome of great power and influence, of whom Piso was specially jealous and he was naturally very much disposed to be on his guard against opening any door of opportunity for them to rise to power. To commit a great crime in order to secure his own aggrandizement, and yet to manage the commission of it in such a way as not only to shut himself off from the expected benefit, but to secure that benefit to a hated rival, would have been a very fatal misstep. So the plan of destroying Nero at Baiae was overruled.

At length one more, and as it proved a final scheme, was formed for accomplishing the purpose of the conspiracy. It was determined to execute Nero in Rome, at a great public celebration which was then about to take place. It seems that it was sometimes customary in ancient times for persons who had any request or petition to make to an emperor or king, to avail themselves of the occasion of such celebrations to present them. Accordingly it was determined that Lateranus should approach Nero at a certain time during the celebration of the games, as if to offer a petition,—the other conspirators being close at hand, and ready to act at a moment's warning. Lateranus, as soon as he was near enough, was to kneel down and suddenly draw the emperor's robes about his feet, and then clasp the feet thus enveloped, in his arms, so as to render Nero helpless. The other conspirators were then to rush forward and kill their victim with their daggers. In the mean time while Lateranus and his associates were perpetrating this deed in the circus where the games were to be exhibited, Piso was to station himself in a certain temple not far distant, to await the result; while Fenius, the officer of the guard, who has already been mentioned as the chief military reliance of the conspirators, was to be posted in another part of the city, with a military cavalcade in array, ready to proceed through the streets and bring Piso forth to be proclaimed emperor as soon as he should receive the tidings that Nero had been slain. It is said that in order to give additional eclat and popularity to the proceeding, it was arranged that Octavia, a daughter of Claudius, the former emperor, was to be brought forward with Piso in the cavalcade, as if to combine the influence of her hereditary claims, whatever they might be, with the personal popularity of Piso in favor of the new government about to be established.

Thus every thing was arranged. To each conspirator, his own particular duty was assigned, and, as the day approached for the execution of the scheme, every thing seemed to promise success. It is obvious, however, that, as the affair had been arranged, all would depend upon the resolution and fidelity of those who had been designated to stab the emperor with their daggers, when Lateranus should have grasped his feet. The slightest faltering or fear at this point, would be fatal to the whole scheme. The man on whom the conspirators chiefly relied for this part of their work, was a certain desperate profligate, named Scevinus, who had been one of the earliest originators of the conspiracy, and one of the most dauntless and determined of the promoters of it, so far as words and professions could go. He particularly desired that the privilege of plunging the first dagger into Nero's heart should be granted to him. He had a knife, he said, which he had found in a certain temple a long time before, and which he had preserved and carried about his person constantly ever since, for some such deed. So it was arranged that Scevinus should strike the fatal blow.

As the time drew nigh, Scevinus seemed to grow more and more excited with the thoughts of what was before him. He attracted the attention of the domestics at his house, by his strange and mysterious demeanor. He held a long and secret consultation with Natalis, another conspirator, on the day before the one appointed for the execution of the plot, under such circumstances as to increase still more the wonder and curiosity of his servants. He formally executed his will, as if he were approaching some dangerous crisis. He made presents to his servants, and actually emancipated one or two of his favorite slaves. He talked with all he met, in a rapid and incoherent manner, on various subjects, and with an air of gayety and cheerfulness which it was obvious to those who observed him was all assumed; for, in the intervals of these conversations, and at every pause, he relapsed into a thoughtful and absent mood, as if he were meditating some deep and dangerous design.

That night, too, he took out his knife from its sheath, and gave it to one of his servants, named Milichus, to be ground. He directed Milichus to be particularly attentive to the sharpening of the point. Before Milichus brought back the knife, Scevinus directed him to prepare bandages such as would be suitable for binding up wounds to stop the effusion of blood. Milichus observed all these directions, and, having made all the preparations required, according to the orders which Scevinus had given him—keeping the knife, however, still in his possession—he went to report the whole case to his wife, in order to consult with her in respect to the meaning of all these mysterious indications.



The wife of Milichus soon came to the conclusion, that these strange proceedings could denote nothing less than a plot against the life of the emperor; and she urged her husband to go early the next morning, and make known his discovery. She told him that it was impossible that such a conspiracy should succeed, for it must be known to a great many persons, some one of whom would be sure to divulge it in hope of a reward. "If you divulge it," she added, "you will secure the reward for yourself; and if you do not, you will be supposed to be privy to it, when it is made known by others, and so will be sacrificed with the rest to Nero's anger."

Milichus was convinced by his wife's reasonings, and on the following morning, as soon as the day dawned, he rose and repaired to the palace. At first he was refused admittance, but on sending word to the officer of the household, that he had intelligence of the most urgent importance to communicate to Nero, they allowed him to come in. When brought into Nero's presence, he told his story, describing particularly all the circumstances that he had observed, which had led him to suppose that a conspiracy was formed. He spoke of the long and mysterious consultation which Scevinus and Natalis had held together on the preceding day; he described the singular conduct and demeanor which Scevinus had subsequently manifested, the execution of his will, his wild and incoherent conversation, his directions in respect to the sharpening of the knife and the preparation of the bandages; and, to crown his proofs, he produced the knife itself, which he had kept for this purpose, and which thus furnished, in some sense, an ocular demonstration of the truth of what he had declared.

Officers were immediately sent to seize Scevinus, and to bring him into the presence of the emperor. Scevinus knew, of course, that the only possible hope for him was in a bold and resolute denial of the charge made against him. He accordingly denied, in the most solemn manner, that there was any plot or conspiracy whatever, and he attempted to explain all the circumstances which had awakened his servant's suspicions. The knife or dagger which Milichus had produced, was an ancient family relic, he said,—one which he had kept for a long time in his chamber, and which his servant had obtained surreptitiously, for the purpose of sustaining his false and malicious charge against his master. As to his will, he often made and signed a will anew, he said, as many other persons were accustomed to do, and no just inference against him could be drawn from the circumstance that he had done this on the preceding day; and in respect to the bandages and other preparation for the dressing of wounds which Milichus alledged that he had ordered, he denied the statement altogether. He had not given any such orders. The whole story was the fabrication of a vile slave, attempting, by these infamous means, to compass his master's destruction. Scevinus said all this with so bold and intrepid a tone of voice, and with such an air of injured innocence, that Nero and his friends were half disposed to believe that he was unjustly accused, and to dismiss him from custody. This might very probably have been the result, and Milichus himself might have been punished for making a false and malicious accusation, had not the sagacity of his wife, who was all the time watching these proceedings with the most anxious interest, furnished a clew which, in the end, brought the whole truth to light.

She called attention to the long conference which Scevinus had held with Natalis on the preceding day. Scevinus was accordingly questioned concerning it. He declared that his interview was nothing but an innocent consultation about his own private affairs. He was questioned then about the particulars of the conversation. Of course he was compelled to fabricate a statement in reply. Natalis himself was then sent for, and examined, apart from Scevinus, in regard to the conversation they had held together. Natalis, of course, fabricated a story too,—but, as usual with such fabrications, the two accounts having been invented independently, were inconsistent with each other. Nero was immediately convinced that the men were guilty, and that some sort of plot or conspiracy had been formed. He ordered that they should both be put to the torture in order to compel them to confess their crime, and disclose the names of their accomplices. In the mean time they were sent to prison, and loaded with irons, to be kept in that condition until the instruments of torture could be prepared.

When at length they were brought to the rack, the sight of the horrid machinery unmanned them. They begged to be spared, and promised to reveal the whole. They acknowledged that a conspiracy had been formed, and gave the names of all who had participated in it. They explained fully, too, the plans which had been devised, and as in this case, though they were examined separately, their statements agreed, Nero and his friends were convinced of the truth of their declarations, and thus at last the plot was fully brought to light. Nero himself was struck with consternation and terror at discovering the formidable danger to which he had been exposed.



CHAPTER XI.

THE FATE OF THE CONSPIRATORS.

A.D. 65

Epicharis denies all knowledge of the conspiracy.—Seizures and executions.—General panic.—Death of Piso.—The conspirators discouraged.—Epicharis at the torture.—Her death.—The conspirators tried before Nero.—Flavius.—Demeanor of Rufus in the garden.—He is accused.—Rufus begs for his life.—His execution.—Flavius is accused.—His desperation.—The execution of Flavius.—The executioner's fears.—Seneca.—His character and public position.—Evidence against Seneca.—His journey to Rome.—Seneca arrested.—His defence.—The officer's report.—Nero decides that Seneca must die.—The death of Seneca.—Grief and despair of Paulina.—They save Paulina's life.—The consul Vestinus.—Large force sent to arrest Vestinus.—Vestinus arrested.—His extraordinary fate.—Nero is pleased.—The guests at Vestinus's supper.—Appearances of public rejoicing.—Nero grants gifts to the army.—Nature of despotic government.—Secret of their power.—Doubt in respect to Piso's conspiracy.

As soon as Nero had obtained all the information which he and his officers could draw from Scevinus and Natalis, and had sent to all parts of the city to arrest those whom the forced disclosures of these witnesses accused, he thought of Epicharis, who, it will be recollected, had been sent to prison, and who was still in confinement there. He ordered Epicharis to be told that concealment was no longer possible,—that Scevinus and Natalis had divulged the plot in full, and that her only hope lay in amply confessing all that she knew.

This announcement had no effect upon Epicharis. She refused to admit that she knew any thing of any conspiracy.

Nero then ordered that she should be put to the torture. The engines were prepared and she was brought before them. The sight of them produced no change. She was then placed upon the wheel, and her frail and delicate limbs were stretched, dislocated, and broken, until she had endured every form of agony which such engines could produce. Her constancy remained unshaken to the end. At length, when she was so much exhausted by her sufferings that she could no longer feel the pain, she was taken away to be restored by medicaments, cordials, and rest, in order that she might recover strength to endure new tortures on the following day.

In the mean time, panic and excitement reigned throughout the city. Nero doubled his guards; he garrisoned his palace; he brought out bodies of armed men, and stationed them on the walls of the city and in the public squares, or marched them to and fro about the streets. As fast as men were accused they were put to the question, and as each one saw that the only hope for safety to himself was in freely denouncing others, the names of supposed confederates were revealed in great numbers, and as fast as these names were obtained the men were seized and imprisoned or executed—the innocent and the guilty together.

On the very first announcement that the plot had been discovered, those of the conspirators who were still at large made all haste to the house of Piso. They found him prostrate in consternation and despair. They urged him immediately to come forth, and to put himself at the head of an armed force, and fight for his life. Desperate as such an undertaking might be, no other alternative, they said, was now left to him. But all was of no avail. The conspirators could not arouse him to action. They were obliged to retire and leave him to his fate. He opened the veins in his arm, and bled to death while the soldiers whom Nero had sent were breaking into his house to arrest him.

Being thus deprived of their leader, the conspirators gave up all hope of effecting the revolution, and thought only of the means of screening themselves from Nero's vengeance.

In the mean time, Epicharis had so far recovered during the night, that on the following morning it was determined to bring her again to the torture. She was utterly helpless,—her limbs having been broken by the execution of the day before. The officers accordingly put her into a sort of sedan chair, or covered litter, in order that she might be carried by bearers to the place of torture. She was borne in this way to the spot, but when the executioners opened the door of the chair to take her out, they beheld a shocking spectacle. Their wretched victim had escaped from their power. She was hanging by the neck, dead. She had contrived to make a noose in one end of the cincture with which she was girded, and fastening the other end to some part of the chair within, she had succeeded in bringing the weight of her body upon the noose around her neck, and had died without disturbing her bearers as they walked along.



In the mean time the various parties that were accused were seized in great numbers, and were brought in for trial before a sort of court-martial which Nero himself, with some of his principal officers, held for this purpose in the gardens of the palace. The number of those accused was so large that the avenues to the garden were blocked up with them, and with the parties of soldiers that conducted them, and multitudes were detained together at the gates, in a state, of course, of awful suspense and agitation, waiting their turns. It happened singularly enough that among those whom Nero summoned to serve on the tribunal for the trial of the prisoners were two of the principal conspirators, who had not yet been accused. These were Subrius Flavius and Fenius Rufus, whom the reader will perhaps recollect as prominent members of the plot. Flavius was the man who had once undertaken to kill the emperor in the streets, and while standing near him at the tribunal, he made signs to the other conspirators that he was ready to stab him to the heart now, if they would but say the word. But Rufus restrained him, anxiously signifying to him that he was by no means to attempt it. Rufus in fact seems to have been as weak-minded and irresolute as Flavius was desperate and bold.

In fact although Rufus, when summoned to attend in the garden, for the trial of the conspirators, did not dare to disobey, he yet found it very difficult to summon resolution to face the appalling dangers of his position. He took his place at last among the others, and with a forced external composure which ill concealed the desperate agitation and anxiety which reigned in his soul, he gave himself to the work of trying and condemning his confederates and companions. For a time no one of them betrayed him. But at length during the examination of Scevinus, in his solicitude to appear zealous in Nero's cause he overacted his part, so far as to press Scevinus too earnestly with his inquiries, until at length Scevinus turned indignantly toward him saying—

"Why do you ask these questions? No person in Rome knows more about this conspiracy than you, and if you feel so devoted to this humane and virtuous prince of yours, show your gratitude by telling him, yourself, the whole story."

Rufus was perfectly overwhelmed at this sudden charge, and could not say a word. He attempted to speak, but he faltered and stammered, and then sank down into his seat, pale and trembling, and covered with confusion. Nero and the other members of the tribunal were convinced of his guilt. He was seized and put in irons, and after the same summary trial to which the rest were subjected, condemned to die. He begged for his life with the most earnest and piteous lamentations, but Nero was relentless, and he was immediately beheaded.

The conspirator Flavius displayed a very different temper. When he came to be accused, at first he denied the charge, and he appealed to his whole past character and course of life as proof of his innocence. Those who had informed against him, however, soon furnished incontestable evidence of his guilt, and then changing his ground, he openly acknowledged his share in the conspiracy and gloried in it even in the presence of Nero himself. When Nero asked him how he could so violate his oath of allegiance and fidelity as to conspire against the life of his sovereign, he turned to him with looks of open and angry defiance and said—