OLD ROME

Evening Star, Issue 19775, 27 January 1928, Page 1

OLD ROME

ITS HOMES AND PLEASURES About the year 50 n.c. the streets of Rome wore narrow and crooked, following probably the old calf track. The bouses were miserable structures of wood, badly built, and dangerous to live in. The lodging bouses_ of the poor were called “iusulco” or islands, like tenement buildings of moderil days, and there were no repairs by landlords nor insurances by tenants. These jerry buildings often collapsed, and oftencr caught tire. In these faraway times Augustus had set up a new system of lire brigades, with stations all over the city, but Nero’s great blaze was probably a blessing to old Romo.

‘The Life of Rome,' by Rogers and Harley, is a translation from Latin literature of passages_ illustrating the daily experiences of its citizens, and giving a reality to their doings which is both educative and hugely entertaining. Plutarch’s story of Crassus is one of the liveliest. Noticing how liable the city was to fires and how often the top heaviness of the buildings led to their collapse, he collected slaves, who were carpenters and masons, and made a corner in them until their numbers reached over 500. The next .stop was the most extraordinary proceeding on record. He bought houses which were on fire, bought the houses adjoining them, and naturally bought them for an old song. This shrewd and enterprising Crassus stuck to his business so closely that in time be came to own a large part of Rome. Yet, strange to say, he built only one house for himself, because as he often declared: “Those who are fond of building will soon ruin themselves, and they are their own worst enemies.” The Tilier would, upon occasion, overflow its banks, roll over the low-lying parts of the city, surprise and drown people in their shops or on their beds. The foundations of the tenements rotted away with the damp, and the buildings came down witli a crash. In A.n. 27 an amphitheatre at Ficlenae collapsed with 50,000 people in it, all of whom were injured or crushed to death. They had met to see gladiators killing one another, but, seem to have been careless about their own lives.

The Rome house of the better class was a simple affair, usually thatched. It contained a central hall or atrium, what wo would call the living room, with small rooms leading off it, some accommodation for servants, a dining room, women’s apartments, an inner shrine, and a modest bath. It sometimes itise above the wooden type, and was built of rough, stone or baked clay bricks. When conquest brought luxury the old simplicity yielded to Creek culture and also to Greek vice. 11l lares the land, to hast’ning ills a prey. Where wealth accumulates and men decay.

Seneca tells us that the younger Pliny’s villa at Laurentum, though containing some thirty-four apartments, showed genuine taste, and made the beauty of the-house dependent on the scenery ■ it. There, was a summer Hiouso where undiluted sunlight could be enjoyed; plunge baths and Turkish, a warm swimming bath, tennis court, gymnasium, a cover walk, arid 1 colonnades.

In these good old times people used to wash their arms and legs every day, but complete immersion was confined to Saturday nights. Nero’s baths had a supply of salt water as well as fresh, and his main dining room was round, rotating day and night with the unceasing revolution of the earth. Seneca complained that when his lodgings were above a public hath his ears.were cursed with fellows grunting at their 'athletic exercises with heavy dumbbells, the clattering of hands slapping shoulders, with different notes over levels and hollows. The tennis scorer came and counted the shots, and that meant more, disturbance. Then the sharper and pick pocket were arrested; but one of the greatest nuisances to the student was the fool who liked to sing in his hath. 'The hair cutter, with his harsh, squeaky voice, never slopped trying to attract customers, hut his bawling was rivalled by that of the sausage seller, the pastrycook, and Iho whole tribe of hucksters. Next door was a follow practising the bugle and (lute. Poor Seneca! He deserves our sympathy. Ball games and horse racing were popular with the Unmans. Horse racing was just as much an occasion for hotting as it is now, and in those days had an clement of considerable danger. The Latin temperament felt a strange appeal in collisions and horrible accidents. The list of motor casualties in our day would have thrilled them Prize lighting, gladiatorial shows, and beast tights always drew a crowd. A Pompeian fresco slnAvs five girls playing knuckle bones, and poetic references to dogs and other pets remind us that amid a good deal of coarseness there was a genuine, love ef animals What about work? Cicero said; “ The gods do nothing,’ but ambitious people had to toil, and the race for success grew hottei with the passing of the years. The day began at dawn, but there was a siesta at noon, and work ended at sundown A relief shows people buying meat in the butcher’s shop, the lady purchaser being provided with a chair, and the sturdy little butcher with his coat or tunic reaching to the knee, and Ids legs below that level, unembarrassed by trousers. He stands at Ids block, and has the cleaver in his hand. Round him hang the joints, behind him the weights, and the lady sits in a com-fortable-chair with a basket on her lap. The picture might have been taken yesterday, except for tiic chair. We have not reached that level of courtesy. In another relief people arc shown buying pillows and rugs. Tlie pleasures of a.d 100 wore chiefly pugilism, eating, drinking, gambling, j racing, furniture and picture rolli-et- | ing. In their train came ia Mowing, j sequestration, disgrace, flight—all of i them quite modern Some of Juvenal's j pages might have been written yesterday. The pages of Pep.vs give ns parallels as well as contrasts. “My wife had got ready a very fine dinner, viz., a dish of, marrow-bones, a leg of mutton, a loin of veal, a dish of fowl, three pullets, and a dozen of larks, all in a dish, a great tart, a neat’s tongue, a dish of anchovies, a dish of prawns and cheese.” The parvenu was lampooned in ancient Rome no less than was the “smart set.” The satirist sketches the new aristocrat accurately not merely in Ins extravagance, but in the remarks which accompany it. The vulgar upstart boasts about himself as a self-made man, of his wealth, his power, and his guests’ style, their laughter when he comes into dinner dressed in a scarlet cloak and wearing rings and bracelets, and picking his teeth with a silver quill. Petronius, •who describes the dinner, says that it broke up curiously. The host propped himself on cushions, told his attendants to imagine he was dead, and “play a '

pretty hit,” The trumpets crashed out in a funeral strain, and one man blew so lustily that the fire brigade on duty nearby thought the house was ablaze, smashed down the door with their axes, and rushed in playing the hose on everything. At that lucky moment the guests made off home, glad of the excuse. These are vivid pictures of people very human, and not entirely unlike ourselves.