As we have said, it is allowable, without improbability, to connect the
deaths of the apostles Peter and Paul with the account which we have
just given. The only historical incident known, by which the martyrdom
of Peter can be explained, is the episode recounted by Tacitus. Some
solid reasons also lead us to believe that Paul suffered the death of a
martyr at Rome. It is then natural to suppose that he also died in the
massacre of July and August, 64. As to the manner of death of the two
apostles, we know with certainty that Peter was crucified. According to
some ancient writings, his wife was executed with him, and he saw her
led to the sacrifice. One accepted account of the third century says,
that, too humble to equal Jesus, he suffered with his head down. The
characteristic trait of the butchery of 64 having been the search for
odious rarities in torture, it is possible that in truth Peter was shown
to the crowd in this hideous attitude. Seneca mentions some cases in
which tyrants have been known to turn the heads of the crucified towards
the earth. Christian piety has seen a mystical refinement in that which
was indeed an odd caprice of the executioner. Perhaps this extract from
the Fourth Gospel--"Thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another
shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not"--includes
some allusion to a peculiarity in the suffering of Peter. Paul, in his
quality of _honestior_, had his head cut off. It is also probable that
he was judged regularly, and that he was not included in the summary
condemnations of the victims in the _fête_ of Nero. All that, I repeat,
is doubtful, and of little importance. True or not, the legend is
believed. At the commencement of the third century, near Rome, there
were already seen two monuments bearing the names of Peter and Paul. One
was situated at the foot of the Vatican Hill, that of St. Peter: the
other, in the way to Ostia, was that of St. Paul. They were called in
oratorial style the trophies of the apostles. In the fourth century two
basilicas were raised above these trophies. One of them is the present
basilica of St. Peter: the other, St. Paul-without-the-Walls, has
retained its essential features until our own century.
Did the trophies which the Christians venerated about the year 200
designate the spots upon which these apostles suffered? It is possible.
It is not unlikely that Paul, toward the end of his life, dwelt in the
suburb which extended beyond the Lavernal gate as far as the pine of the
Salvian springs in the way to Ostia. The shade of Peter, on the other
hand, wanders always, according to the Christian legend, towards the
turpentine-tree of the Vatican, not far from the gardens of the Circus
of Nero, and especially about the obelisk. It may be that the ancient
place of the obelisk in the sacristy of St. Peter, now indicated by an
inscription, is nearer to the place where St. Peter upon the cross of
his frightful agony surfeited the eyes of a populace greedy to see him
suffer. However, that is a secondary question. If the basilica of the
Vatican does not really cover the tomb of St. Peter, it points out not
the less for our remembrance one of the spots most truly hallowed by
Christianity. The place which the seventeenth century surrounded with a
theatrical colonnade was a second Calvary; and, even supposing that
Peter was not crucified there, at least we cannot doubt the sufferings
of the Danaïdes and the Dirces.
* * * * *
We shall show in our next assembly how tradition disposes of all these
doubts, and how the Church consummates reconciliation between Peter and
Paul, which death perhaps began. This was the price of success. The
Judæan-Christianity of Peter and the Hellenism of Paul, apparently
irreconcilable, were equally necessary to the success of the future
work. The Judæan-Christianity represented the conservative spirit
without which nothing is solid; Hellenism, advance and progress, without
which nothing truly exists. Life is the result of a conflict between two
contrary forces. The absence of all revolutionary spirit is as fatal as
the excess of revolution.