Whether or not this fire took place through Nero's orders, and was played to by him on the harp, he showed more feeling for the people and more good sense in the rebuilding of the city than could have been expected from one of his weak and vicious character. By his orders the Field of Mars, the magnificent buildings erected by Agrippa, and even the imperial gardens were thrown open to the houseless people, and sheds for their shelter were erected with all possible haste. Household utensils and all kinds of useful implements were brought from Ostia and other neighboring cities, and the price of grain was reduced. But all this failed to gain the good-will of the people, who were exasperated by the story that Nero had exulted in the grandeur of the flames, and harped over burning Rome.
When the fire was at length subdued, of the fourteen quarters of Rome only four were left entire; the remainder presented more or less utter ruin. The conflagration in the time of the Gauls had been little more complete, while the wealth now consumed was incomparably greater. The whole world had been robbed of its treasures to feed the flames of Rome. But the haste and ill-judged confusion with which the city was rebuilt after the irruption of the Gauls was not now repeated. A regular plan was formed; the new streets were made wide and straight; the elevation of the houses was defined, and each was given an open area before the door, and was adorned with porticos. The expense of these porticos Nero took upon himself. He ordered also that the new houses should not be contiguous, but that each should be surrounded by its own enclosure; and, in order to hurry the work, he offered rewards to those who should finish their buildings in a fixed period. As for the refuse of the fire, it was removed at Nero's expense to the marshes of Ostia in the ships that brought corn up the Tiber.
These regulations, while they must have made much confusion among the rival claimants of building sites, added greatly to the beauty and comfort of the new city, and the Rome which rose from the ruins was far more stately and handsome than the Rome which had vanished in ashes and smoke. But Nero, while showing some passing feeling for the people and some wisdom in the rebuilding of the city, did not hesitate to use a generous portion of the devastated space for his own advantage. His palace had been destroyed, and he built a new and most magnificent one on the Palatine Hill, the famous "golden house," which after-ages beheld with unstinted admiration.
But he did not confine his ostentation to the palace itself. A great space around it was converted into pleasure-grounds for his amusement, in which, as Tacitus says, "expansive lakes and fields of vast extent were intermixed with pleasing variety; woods and forests stretched to an immeasurable length, presenting gloom and solitude amid scenes of open space, where the eye wandered with surprise over an unbounded prospect."
But nothing that Nero could do sufficed to remove from men's minds the belief that on him rested the infamy of the fire. This public sentiment troubled and frightened him, and to remove it he sought to lay the burden of guilt on others. It was now the year 64 A.D., and for at least thirty years the new sect of the Christians had been spreading in Rome, where it had gained many adherents among the humbler and more moral section of the population. The Christians were far from popular. They were accused of secret and evil practices and debasing superstitions, and on this despised sect Nero determined to turn the fury of the populace.
THE TOMB OF HADRIAN.
With his usual artifice he induced a number of abandoned wretches to confess themselves guilty, and on their purchased evidence numbers of the Christians were seized and convicted, mainly on the plea of their sullen hatred of the whole human race. A frightful persecution followed, Nero perhaps hoping, by an exhibition of human suffering, so dear to the rabble of Rome, to turn the thoughts of the people from their own losses.
The captives were put to death with every cruelty the emperor could devise, and to their sufferings he added mockery and derision. Many were nailed to the cross; others were covered with the skins of wild beasts, and left to be devoured by dogs; numbers were burned alive, many of these, covered with inflammable matter, being set on fire to serve as torches during the night.
That the public might see this tragic spectacle with the more satisfaction, it was given in the imperial gardens. The sports of the circus were added to the tortures of the victims, Nero himself driving his chariot in the races, or mingling with the rabble in his coachman's dress. These cruel proceedings continued until even the hardened Roman heart became softened with compassion, spectators failed to come, and Nero felt obliged to yield to a general demand that the persecutions should cease.