SOCIAL DAY OF A ROMAN ARISTOCRAT--MORNING
We have seen in what sort of a home a Roman dwelt in town or country.
Meanwhile it goes without saying that the non-Roman or non-Romanized
populations of the empire were living in houses and amid furniture of
their own special type--Greek, Syrian, Egyptian, or as the case might
be. They were also living their lives after their own fashion in
respect of dress, meals, occupations, and amusements.
We may now look at the manner in which a typical Roman might spend an
ordinary day in the metropolis, and endeavour to form some clear idea
of the outward aspects of such a life. In the first instance our Roman
shall be a man of the senatorial aristocracy, blessed with both high
position and ample means, but one who, for the time being, holds no
public office, whether as a governor, a military commander, a Minister
of Roads or Water Supply, an officer of the Exchequer, or of Justice.
Instead of referring to him awkwardly as "our citizen," we will call
him Silius. The same name may be borne by a large number of other
persons, for it is the name of an early Roman family which in course
of time may have divided into several branches or "houses," answering
to each other very much as the "Worcestershire" So-and-Sos may answer
to the "Hampshire" So-and-Sos, except that the distinction in the
Roman case is not territorial. Our Silius will therefore naturally
bear further names to distinguish him. One will be the special
appellation of his own "house" or branch, derived in all probability
from its first distinguishing member. Let us assume, for instance,
that he is a Silius Bassus. As, again, there are probably a number of
other persons belonging to the same branch and entitled to the same
two designations, he will possess a "front name," answering to our
"Christian" name, and he shall be called for our purposes Quintus
Silius Bassus. It is the middle name of the three which is regarded as
_the_ name, but when there is no danger of mistake our friend may be
addressed or written of as either Silius or Bassus. In private life
among his intimates he prefers to be called Quintus. The individual
name, family name, and branch name were frequently followed by others,
but at least these three are regularly owned by any Roman with claims
to old descent. To us, however, he will be Silius.
He lives, let us say, in one of the larger town-houses on the Caelian
Hill, looking across the narrow valley towards the Palatine, somewhere
near the modern church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo. It is before day-break
that the loud bell has awakened the household slaves and set them to
their work. In the road below and away in the city the carts, which
are forbidden during the full daytime, are still rumbling with their
loads of produce or building-material. All night long the less happily
housed inhabitants have tolerated this noise, together with the
droning and grating of the mills grinding the corn in the bakers'
shops. It is however, now approaching dawn, and imperial Rome, which
goes to sleep late, wakes early. No few Romans, even of the highest
classes, have already been up for an hour or two, reading by
lamplight, writing letters or dictating them to an amanuensis, who
takes them down rapidly in a form of shorthand. Out in the streets the
boys are on their way to school, the poorer ones carrying their own
lanterns--at least if it is the time of year when the days are
short--their writing-tablets and their reading-books, probably Virgil
and Horace, who were standard authors serving in the Roman schools as
Shakespeare and Pope do in our own. Boys of well-to-do parents are
accompanied by an elderly slave of stern demeanour. In the distance
are heard the sounds of the first hammers and the cries of the venders
of early breakfasts.
Silius rises, and with the help of a valet, who is of course a slave,
dresses himself. His household barber--another slave--shaves him,
trims his hair in the approved style and cleans his nails. At this
date clean shaving was the rule. Every emperor from Augustus to
Hadrian, fifty years later than Nero, was clean shaven, and the
fashion set by emperors was followed as closely by the contemporary
Roman as "imperials" and "ram's-horn" moustaches have been imitated in
later times. The hair was kept carefully neither too long nor too
short. Only in time of mourning was it permitted to grow to a
negligent length. By preference it should be somewhat wavy, but there
was no parting. Dandies had their hair curled with the tongs and
perfumed, so at to smell "all over the theatre." If they were bald,
they wore a wig; sometimes they actually had imitation hair painted
across the bare part of the scalp. If nature had given them the wrong
colour, they corrected it with dye. If the exposed parts of the body
were hairy, they plucked out the growth with tweezers or used
depilatories. But these were the dandies, and we need not assume
Silius to have been one of them.
It is to be a day of some formality, and Silius will therefore attire
himself accordingly. In other words, he will put on the typical Roman
garb. Of whatever else this may consist, it will comprise a band round
the middle, a woolen--less often a linen--tunic with or without
sleeves, and over this the voluminous woollen toga; on the feet will
be shoes. Of further underwear a Roman used as much or as little as he
chose. If, like the Emperor Augustus, he felt the cold, he might
indulge in several shirts and also short hose. Such practices,
however, were commonly regarded as coddling. Breeches were worn at
this date only by soldiers serving in northern countries, where they
had picked up the custom from the "barbarians." Mufflers were used by
persons with a tender throat.
[Illustration: FIG. 59.--PATRICIAN SHOES.]
[Illustration: FIG. 60.--ROMAN IN THE TOGA.]
Inasmuch as Silius is of senatorial rank, his tunic, which will show
through the open front of his toga, bears the broad inwoven stripe of
purple running down the middle, and his shoes--which otherwise might
be of various colours, such as yellow with red laces--are black,
fastened by cross straps running somewhat high up the leg and bearing
a crescent of silver or ivory upon the instep. The stripe, the shoes,
and the crescent mark his senatorial standing. That which marks him as
a citizen at all is the toga--an article of dress forbidden to any
inhabitant of the empire who could not call himself in the full sense
"_Civis Romanus_." It was a cumbrous and heavy garment (when spread
out it formed an oval of about 15 feet by 12), with which no man who
wanted to work or travel or simply to be comfortable would hamper
himself. St. Paul was a Roman citizen, but, if he ever wore a toga at
all, it would only be when he desired to bring his citizenship home to
a Roman court, and we should probably be quite mistaken in imagining
that he travelled about with a toga in his baggage, or, as the
Authorised Version calls it, his "carriage." When out of town, in his
country-seat or when amusing himself at home in the city, especially
in the warmer weather, the Roman cast off his toga with a sigh of
relief. In the provincial towns of Italy, though theoretically as much
in demand, this blanket-like covering was little used by any man
except on the most formal public and religious occasions, and, as a
poet says, "when dead," for then the toga was indispensable.
Nevertheless at Rome it was the necessary dress for all men of
position when appearing in any sort of public life. The Roman emperors
insisted upon its use in all places of public amusement--the theatre,
circus, or amphitheatre. In a court of justice the president certainly
could not "see" a pleader unless he wore it. You cannot be present at
a formal social ceremony--a wedding, a betrothal, a coming of age, a
levée--without this outward and visible mark of respect. Nor was it
sufficient that you should wear it. It must be properly draped and
must fall to the right point, which, in front, was aslant over the
lower part of the shin, while behind it fell to the heel. Your
wardrobe slave must see that it has been kept properly folded and
pressed. If you claimed to be a gentleman, and were not in mourning
and not an official, it must be simply and scrupulously white. Poorer
people might wear a toga of a duller or dark-grey wool, which would
better conceal a stain and require to go less frequently to the
fuller. The same dull hue was also worn in time of mourning, or as an
ostentatious token of a gloomy spirit, as for example, when one of
your friends was in peril of condemnation in the law-courts, or when
you fancied that some serious injustice was being done or threatened
to your social order. The only person privileged to wear a toga of
true purple was the emperor. On the whole the Roman dress was very
simple; far more so than in mediaeval times or the days of Elizabeth
or Charles II. Velvet and satin were not yet known, furs hardly so,
and there were very few changes of fashion.
Silius will also wear at least one large signet-ring as well as his
plain ring of gold, but he will leave it to the dandies to load their
fingers with half-a-dozen and to keep separate sets for winter and
summer. When Quintilian, in his _Training of the Orator_, touches upon
the subject of rings, he recommends as requisite for good form that
"the hand should not be covered with rings, and especially should they
not come below the middle joint." A handkerchief will be carried, but
only to wipe away perspiration.
Having finished his dressing, he may choose this time for taking his
morning "snack," corresponding to the coffee and roll or tea and
bread-and-butter of modern times. It is but a light repast of wine or
milk, with bread and honey, or a taste of olives or cheese or possibly
an egg. Schoolboys seem to have often eaten a sort of suet dumpling.
In the strength of this meat our friend will go till mid-day.
As he has no very early call to the imperial court upon the Palatine,
he will now proceed to hold his own reception of morning callers. For
this purpose he will come out to the spacious hall, which has been
already described as the most essential part of a Roman house, and
will there establish himself in the opening of the recess or bay which
has also been described as a kind of reception-room or parlour. Before
he arrives, the hall has been swept and polished by the brooms and
sponges of the slaves, under the direction of a foreman. The number of
Silius' household slaves is very great. Very many Romans of course
owned no slave at all; many had but one or two; but it was considered
that a person of anything like respectable means could hardly do with
less than ten. Silius will probably employ several times that number.
We have mentioned the valet, the barber, the wardrobe-keeper, and the
amanuensis. We must add to these the cooks, the pastry-makers, the
waiters, the room-servants, the doorkeeper, the footmen, messengers,
litter-carriers, the butler and pantrymen. Some of the superior slaves
have drudges of their own. The librarian, accountant, and steward are
all slaves. Even the family physician or architect may be a slave.
Many of these men may be persons of education and talent. Their one
deficiency is that they are not free. Many of them are in colour and
feature indistinguishable from the people outside; most, however, show
their origin in their foreign physique. They are Phrygians,
Cappadocians, Syrians, Jews, Egyptians, Ethiopians, Numidians,
Spaniards, Gauls, Germans, Thracians, and Greeks. Their master either
inherited them from his father or friends, or he bought them in the
slave-market. For whatever reason they became slaves--whether as
prisoners of war, by birth, through debt, through condemnation for
some offence, by kidnapping like that practised by the Corsairs or the
modern Arabs, or through being sold by their own parents--they had
become the Property of slave-dealers, who picked them up in the depots
on the Black Sea or at Delos or Alexandria, and brought them to Rome.
There they were stripped and exposed for sale, the choicer specimens
in a select part of a fashionable shop, the more ordinary types in the
auction mart, where they were placed upon a stand or stone bench, were
labelled with their age, nationality, defects, and accomplishments,
and were sold either under a guarantee or without one. For an ordinary
room-slave Silius, or his agent for him, has paid perhaps £20; for a
servant of more special skill, such as a particularly soft-handed
barber, perhaps £50; the price of a muleteer who was "too deaf to
overhear private conversation in a carriage" might thereby be enhanced
to £150; for a slave with educational or artistic accomplishments--a
good reader, reciter, secretary, musician, or actor--he may have paid
some hundreds. If he is a man of morbid tastes, and affects a
particular kind of dainty favourite, he may go as far as a thousand.
Curly-haired pages and amusing dwarfs are generally dear. It is the
business of the house-steward to see that each slave receives his
daily or monthly rations of corn, a trifling sum of money for other
needs, and perhaps an allowance of thin wine. Many a slave also
received a considerable number of "tips" from guests, as well as
perquisites and presents from his master. With economy he was thus
enabled to purchase his own freedom. The master might also in some
cases provide the slave with the essentials of his dress, to wit, a
coarse tunic, a rough cloak, and a pair of shoes or sabots.
Over all these persons, so long as they are slaves, the owner
possesses absolute power. He can box their ears, or condemn them to
hard labour--making them, for instance, work in chains upon his lands
in the country or in a sort of prison-factory--or he may punish them
with blows of the rod, the lash, or the knout; he can brand them upon
the forehead if they are thieves or runaways, or in the end, if they
prove irreclaimable, he can crucify them. Branded slaves who
afterwards became free and rich sought to conceal the marks by wearing
patches. There were inevitably some instances in which masters proved
so intolerably cruel that their slaves were driven to murder them. To
prevent any conspiracy of the kind the law ordained that, when a
master was so killed, the slaves should one and all be put to death.
It is gratifying to learn that in the reign of Nero the whole populace
sided with a body of slaves in this predicament and prevented the law
from being carried out.
[Illustration: FIG. 61.--SLAVE IN FETTERS.]
But, being a typical Roman, Silius has a strong sense of justice;
moreover he values public opinion as well as his own. Also, being a
typical Roman, he behaves with strictness and for the most part with a
distinct haughtiness of manner, graduated, no doubt, according to the
standing of the individual. When, as was often the case, he did not
even know the name of a slave whom he came across in hall or
peristyle, he frequently addressed him as "Sirrah" or "Sir" or "You,
Sir." To the waiter at table and for ordinary commands, where the
master affects no ceremony, the commonest term is "boy," precisely as
that word is used in the East or _garçon_ in French. If Silius knew
the actual appellation assigned to the slave when bought and was
disposed to be kindly, he accosted him by it, calling him "Syrian," or
"Thracian," or "Croesus," or by his proper Greek or Egyptian name. The
slave, unlike the Roman citizen, owned but one name, and the shorter
the better.
We meet, as is only natural, with many examples of great trust and
confidence between master and slave, and, in the case of the superior
types, no few instances of great kindness and consideration. Pliny
speaks of his "long friendship" for a cultivated slave named Zosimus,
whom he set free, and whom, because he was liable to consumption, he
sent to Egypt and the Riviera for the good of his health. A faithful
or very useful slave could make tolerably sure of being some day
emancipated with all due form and ceremony, either during the master's
lifetime or by his last will and testament. In such a case he became a
Roman citizen of the rank known as "freedman," and after the second
generation there was nothing to prevent his descendants from aspiring
to any position open to any other Roman. Sometimes even his son
attained to public office. On attaining his citizenship the freedman
became entitled to "the three names," and it was the rule that he
should adopt the family name of his master. A freedman of Silius is
himself a Silius. Also by preference he will be a Quintus Silius; but
he will not be a Bassus. The third name will still, for his own
lifetime, be such as to mark him for what he is. Moreover, though
free, he is himself still bound to pay a dutiful respect to his former
master's family, but beyond this he is at his own disposal and in
possession of every right in regard to person and property. Many such
men were extremely skilful in trade and made themselves rich enough to
vie with the Roman aristocracy in outward show. The freedmen of the
Emperor, who occupied positions of influence at court as chamberlains,
stewards, private secretaries and the like, and were the powers behind
the throne, became enormously wealthy. Their houses were adorned with
the finest marble columns, the most richly gilded ceilings, and the
most costly works of art; the choicest fruits ripened under glass in
their forcing-houses, and, when they died, their monuments were among
the most sumptuous by the side of the great highways. "Freedmen's
wealth" became a proverb. They were occasionally even appointed to
those minor governorships held by "agents" of Caesar, and the Felix of
the New Testament was himself a freedman of Nero's predecessor and
brother to one of the richest and most influential of the class. In
the provincial cities of Italy freedmen, though they were not
themselves eligible for the ordinary offices, might in return for acts
of munificence be admitted to what may be called an inferior grade of
knighthood--a sort of C.M.G.--styled the "Order of Augustus." They
thus became notables of their own town in a way of which they were
sufficiently proud, as the Pompeian inscriptions show. It was part of
the shrewdness of Augustus to kill two birds with one stone, by
erecting a provincial order directly attached to the cult of the
Emperor, and by encouraging the local self-made man to spend money
liberally upon the embellishment and comfort of his own municipality.
Well, Silius, meeting with or escorted by various slave attendants,
passes from the inner rooms through the passage into the hall and
finds waiting for him a throng of visitors known as his "clients" or
dependants. The position of these persons is somewhat remarkable. They
are commonly free Roman citizens of the "genteel" middle class, who
openly admit that they depend for the bulk of their living upon the
patronage of the noble or the rich. The custom arose from a very old
condition of things, under which certain classes of citizens, not
being entitled to appear in the law-courts or in public business on
their own behalf, put themselves under the protection of a person so
entitled, who, in return for certain acts of support and deference,
appeared as their advocate and champion. At a later time, even though
their rights had become complete, men might still seek counsel, legal
advice, and advocacy from a person of influence and eloquence. In
return they paid him the honour of escort in the streets, supported
him in his candidature for public office, applauded his speeches, and
exercised on his behalf such influence as they possessed. The standing
of a prominent Roman was apt to be measured by the number and quality
of the persons thus attaching themselves to him. If next it is
remembered that very few money-making occupations were looked upon
with favour by the Romans, and that the higher orders were for the
most part very rich, it will be obvious that there would grow up the
custom of the patron making liberal presents to his dependants--money
gifts, or gifts of small properties and of useful articles--as well as
of inviting them to his table. The clients themselves brought little
presents on the patron's birthday or some other special occasion, but
these were merely the sprats to catch the whale. It gradually resulted
that the patronage extended by the aristocrat or plutocrat was mainly
one of a direct pecuniary nature. As in other cases where a dubious
custom develops gradually, there ceased to be any shame in this
relation. Many members of the middle class, impoverished and earning
practically no other income, lived the life of genteel paupers. They
would attend the morning reception of a grandee, either bringing with
them, or causing a slave to bring, a small basket, or even a portable
cooking-stove, in which they carried off doles of food distributed
through his servants. The scene must have borne no slight resemblance
to that of the charity "soup-kitchen." In process of time, however,
this practice became inconvenient for all parties, and most of the
patrons compounded for such doles by making a fixed payment, still
called the "little basket," amounting perhaps to a shilling in modern
weight of money for each day of polite attention on the part of a
recognised "client." If a client was acknowledged by more than one
patron, so much the better for the amount of his "little baskets." In
some cases the dole was paid to each visitor at the morning call; in
others only after the work of the patron's day was done and when he
had gone to the elaborate bath which preceded his dinner in the later
part of the afternoon. By this means the complimentary escort duty was
secured until that time.
Among the dependants were nearly all the genteel unemployed of Rome,
including the Grub-Street men of letters, who in those days could make
little, if anything, by their books, and who therefore sought the same
kind of assistance as did our own literary rank and file in the early
eighteenth century. When we read the authors of the period we are
inevitably reminded of Samuel Johnson waiting in the ante-chamber of
Lord Chesterfield, and of the flattering dedications of books which
were so liberally or illiberally paid for by the recipients of such
compliments. From his little flat, often a single room and practically
an attic, in the tenement-house, the client would emerge before
daylight, dressed _de rigueur_ in his toga, which was often sadly worn
and thin. He would make his way for a mile or more through the carts,
the cattle, an the schoolboys, sometimes in fine weather, sometimes
through the rain and cold, when the streets were muddy and slippery,
and would climb the hill to his patron's door, joined perhaps on the
way by other citizens bent on the same errand. Gathering in that open
space or vestibule which has already been described, they waited for
the janitor to open the door. If the doorkeeper of Silius was like the
generality of his kind, he would take a flunkey's pleasure in keeping
them waiting, and also, except in the case of those who had been wise
enough to ease his manners with a "tip," or who were known to be in
special favour, a flunkey's pleasure in exhibiting his contempt.
Brought into the hall, they stood or sat about and conversed until
Silius appeared. Then, according to an established order of
precedence--which apparently depended on seniority of acquaintance,
while again it might be affected by a _douceur_--they were presented
one by one to the patron.
One must not expect a Roman noble to deign always to remember the
names of humble persons--sometimes he actually did not--and therefore
a slave, known as the "name-caller," announces each client in turn.
The client says, "Good morning, Sir," and Silius replies, "Good
morning, So-and-So," or "Good morning, Sir," or simply "Good morning."
There is a shaking of hands, or, if the patron is a gracious gentleman
and the client is of old standing, Silius may kiss him on the cheek
and offer some polite inquiry or remark. A very haughty person might
merely offer his hand to be kissed and perhaps not open his mouth at
all, even if he condescended to look at you. But these habits were
hardly so characteristic of our times as of a somewhat later date.
The reception over, the client obtains information as to the movements
of his patron during the day. On the present occasion it appears that
Silius himself is to proceed at once to pay his own morning homage to
a still higher patron, His Highness Nero, who is at home on the
Palatine Hill, and whose levée calls imperatively for the attendance
of certain members of the aristocracy. At the palace there exists a
roll of persons known as the "friends of Caesar"--a roll which depends
solely on the favour of the emperor. Naturally it contains the names
of a number of the highest senators and of the chief officers of the
state, but a place in it is not gained simply by such positions, nor
is it restricted to them. There may be a few knights and others on the
list. To be removed from the roll is to be socially a marked man and a
person to be avoided. Silius is, at least for the time being, one of
the "friends." Nero is not yet in sufficient financial straits to
require that Silius should be squeezed or sacrificed, nor has he
chosen to take offence at something which a spy or informer has
reported of him. Our friend therefore enjoys the _entrée_ to the
palace, and to the palace he goes.
It is a clear fine morning, and he has plenty of time. He therefore
perhaps elects to go on foot. Learning this, a number of his clients
form a procession. Some are honoured by walking at his side, a few go
in advance and so clear a way through the crowd--which is already
moving at the top of the Sacred Way--to the point where you turn off
on the left and ascend to the entrance to the Palatine Hill. Some of
the clients will walk behind, where also will be a lackey or two in
waiting. On the way Silius may perhaps meet with Manlius, another
noble, whom he probably greets with "Good morning, brother," and a
kiss upon the cheek. This kissing, it may be remarked, ultimately
became an intolerable nuisance, particularly among the middle classes,
and the epigrammatist, after complaining of the cold noses and wet
osculations of the winter-time, pleads to have the business at least
put off till the month of April.
When it is a bad or sloppy day, Silius will decide to go in his
litter, or Roman form of the palanquin. Being a senator he may use
this conveyance, otherwise at this date he could not. There are also
sedan chairs, but as yet there exists a prejudice against these as
being somewhat effeminate. At this decision four, six, or eight tall
fellows, slaves from Cappadocia or Germany by preference, clad in
crimson liveries, thrust two long poles through the rings or the
coloured leather straps which are to be found on the sides of the
litter, and place these poles upon their shoulders. To all intents and
purposes the litter is a couch with an arched roof above it, of the
shape here indicated, but covered with cushions, which are often
stuffed with down. Its woodwork is decorated with silver and ivory.
The litter may either be carried open on all sides, or with curtains
of coloured stuffs partially drawn, or it may be enclosed by windows
of talc or glass. In the days when litters were in promiscuous use,
persons who did not possess one, or perhaps the slaves to bear it,
might hire such a vehicle from the "rank," after the modern manner of
hiring a cab. In this receptacle Silius is carried amid the same
procession as before.
[Illustration: FIG. 62.--LITTER.]
He will wear nothing on his head. On a journey, or when the sun was
particularly strong in the roofless theatre or circus, he might put on
a broad-brimmed hat, very much like that of the modern Italian priest.
Instead of the hat it was common, when the weather so required, either
to draw a fold of the toga over the head or to wear a hood closely
resembling the monkish cowl. This might be either attached to a cloak
or made separately for the purpose. The hood was also employed when,
particularly in the evening, the wearer had either public or private
reasons for concealing his identity as he moved abroad, commonly
issuing in such cases from his side door. But on an ordinary day, and
when attending a ceremony, the Roman head is bare. So also are the
hands, for gloves are not yet in use.
On arriving at the palace--outside which there is generally standing a
crowd of the curious or the snobs--Silius passes through the guards,
Roman or German, at the doors, is taken in hand by the court slave or
freedman who acts as usher, and himself goes through a process similar
to that which his own clients have undergone. There are times, and
just now they may be frequent, at which he will have to submit to a
search, for fear he may be carrying a concealed weapon. If he is high
in favour or position, he belongs to the batch of "first admittance,"
or first _entrée_. If not, he must be contented with "second." He will
find that His Highness Nero, exacting as he may be concerning the
costume of his callers, will not trouble to put on his own toga, as a
more respectable emperor would have done, but will appear in anything
he pleases, frequently a tunic or a wrapper of silk, relieved only by
a handkerchief round the neck. Nor will his High Mightiness always
condescend to lace his shoes. If he is in a good humour, he may bestow
the kiss, remember your name, and call you "my very dear Silius." If
he has been accustomed to do so, but omits the warmer greeting on this
occasion, it may be taken as boding you no good. It is, however, very
probable that in this year 64 he will refuse the kiss to almost every
one of the senators, for he has already come openly to detest them. It
will suffice if he so much as offers his hand to be saluted. Caligula,
being a "god," had sometimes offered his foot, but only that
crack-brained emperor had so far attempted this enormity.
[Illustration: FIG. 63.--READING A PROCLAMATION. (Pompeii.) The
writing is upon a long board in front of equestrian statues.]
The day happens to be one on which the emperor has nothing further to
say and requires no advice. Silius is therefore free to go his ways.
There is also no meeting of the Senate, no festival, chariot-race, or
show of gladiators. He has therefore only the ordinary day before him,
and he proceeds, as practically every other caller does, towards the
Forum and its neighbourhood. If on his way he meets with a great
public official--a consul or a praetor--proceeding on duty, he
politely makes way, and, if his head chances to be covered, he
uncovers it. He loyally recognises the claims of that toga edged with
purple, and of those lictors walking in front with the symbolic
bundles of rods containing the symbolic axe. Whatever he may think of
the men, he pays all respect to their office. The Forum is now full,
the banking and money-changing are all aglow in the Basilica Aemilia,
the loungers are playing their games of "three men in a row," or
perhaps their backgammon, on the pavement of the outer colonnade of
the Basilica of Julius. Groups are reading and discussing the columns
of the "Daily News," which are either posted up or have been purchased
from the professional copiers. This is an official, and therefore a
censored, publication in clear manuscript, containing proclamations,
resolutions of the senate, bulletins of the court, results of trials,
the births and deaths registered in the city, announcements of public
shows and sports, striking events, such as fires, earthquakes, and
portents, and occasional advertisements. Silius may perhaps stop and
read; more probably his slaves regularly purchase a copy for his
private use. Criers are meanwhile bawling to you to come and see the
Asiatic giant, or the mermen, or the two-headed baby. The old sailor
who has been wrecked, or pretends to have been, is walking about with
a harrowing picture of the scene painted on a board and is soliciting
alms. The busybody is gossiping among little knots of people and
telling, manufacturing, or magnifying the latest scandal, or the
latest news from the frontier, from Antioch, from the racing-stables,
the law-courts, or the palace. Perhaps Silius has a little banking
business to do, and he enters the Basilica to give instructions as to
sending a draft to Athens or Alexandria in favour of some friend or
relative there who is in want of money, or whom he has instructed to
make artistic or other purchases. In about seven days his
correspondent will obtain the cash through a banker at Athens, or in
about twelve or fourteen days at Alexandria.
Perhaps, however, one of his clients has asked for his help in a case
at law, which is being tried either over the way in the Basilica of
Julius, or round the corner to the right in the Forum of Augustus. If
a man of study and eloquence, he may have consented to act as
pleader--taking no fee, because he is merely performing a patron's
duty. _Noblesse oblige_. In the year 64 a pleader who has taken up a
cause for some one else than a dependant is allowed by law to charge a
fee not exceeding £100, but the law says nothing, or at least can do
no thing, as to the liberal presents which are offered him under some
other pretext. If he is not to plead, Silius may at any rate have been
requested to lend moral support by seating himself beside the favoured
party and perhaps appearing as a witness to character. If he pleads in
any complicated or technical case, it will generally be after careful
consultation with an attorney or professional lawyer. Round the apse
or recess in which the court sits there will stand a ring of
interested spectators, and among them will be distributed as many as
possible of his own dependants, who will religiously applaud his
finely-turned periods and his witticisms. There was generally little
chance of missing a Roman forensic witticism; its character was for
the most part highly elaborate and its edge broad. In a later
generation it was not rare for chance bystanders to be hired on the
spot as _claqueurs_. The court itself consists of a large body of
jurymen of position empanelled, not for the particular case, but for
particular kinds of cases and for a period of time, and over these
there presides one of the public officials annually elected for the
judicial administration of Rome. The president sees that the
proceedings are in accordance with the law, but the verdict is given
entirely by the jury.
[Illustration: FIG. 64.--SEALED RECEIPT OF JUCUNDUS. Beside each seal
is a signature; the writing in the hollow leaf is a summary of the
receipt, which is itself shut between the two leaves bound with
string.]
If there is no need for Silius to attend such a court, he may find
many other demands upon his time. Among Romans of the higher classes
etiquette was extremely exacting. Contemporaries themselves complain
that social "duties" or "obligations" frittered away a large
proportion of their day, and that they were kept perpetually "busy
doing nothing." One man or woman is making a will, and asks you to be
one of the witnesses to the signature and sealing; another is
betrothing a son or daughter, and invites you to be present and attest
the ceremony; another has a son of fifteen or sixteen concerning whom
it is decided that he has now come of age, must put on the white toga
of a man in the place of the purple-edged toga of the boy, and be led
into the Forum in token of his new freedom; you must not omit the
courtesy of attending. Another desires you to go with him before the
magistrate while he emancipates a slave. Worst of all, perhaps, is the
man who has written a poem or declamation, and who proposes to read
it, or to get a professional elocutionist to read it, to his
acquaintances. He has either hired a hall or borrowed a convenient
room from a friend, and you are kindly invited to be present. We learn
that these amateur authors did not permit their victims to forget the
engagement, but sent them more than one reminder. At the reading or
recitation it was your duty to applaud frequently, to throw
complimentary kisses, and to exclaim in Greek, "excellent," "capital,"
"clever," "unapproachable," or "again," very much as we say "encore"
in what we think is French, or "bravo" in Italian. The native Latin
terms most commonly in use may perhaps be translated as "well said,"
"perfect," "good indeed," "divine," "a shrewd hit." On one occasion a
certain Priscus was present at the reading of a poem, and it happened
to open with an invocation to a Priscus. No sooner had the author
begun, "Priscus, thou bidst me tell ..." than the man of that name
called out "Indeed I don't." This "caused laughter" and "cast a chill
over the proceedings." Pliny apologises for the man, as being a little
light in the head, but he is manifestly tickled all the same. It is
scarcely a wonder that the Roman was glad to escape from all these
formalities of "toga'd Rome" to his country seat, or to the freer life
of Baiae.
His business in the Forum accomplished, Silius returns to his house on
the Caelian. As, on the slope of the Sacred Way, he passes the rich
shops of the jewellers, florists, and perfumers, he may be tempted to
make some purchase, which the attendant slaves will carry to the
house. Arrived there, he will take his luncheon, a fairly substantial
though by no means a heavy meal. He may perhaps be a married man. If
nothing has yet been said about his wife, it is because in the higher
Roman households the husband and wife owned their separate property,
lived their own lives, and were almost equally free to spend their
time in their own way, since marriage at this date was rather a
contract than a union. If, however, he is a benedict, it is probable
that at this meal the family will meet, no outside company being
present. Silius himself reclines on a couch, the children are seated,
and the wife may adopt either attitude. After this our friend will
probably take a siesta, precisely as he might take it in Italy to-day.
The practice was indeed not universal; nevertheless it was general. He
will not go to bed, but will sleep awhile upon a couch in some quiet
and darkened room. If he cannot sleep, or when he wakes, he may
perhaps read or be read to. Where he will spend the afternoon till the
bath and dinner is a matter of his own choice.