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The feast had been vast and stretched way into the night. It was now 6 o’clock and the serving slaves of the evening were thankfully joined by the early rising cleaning drudges. The majority of clearing up had been accomplished but some of these wretches had been constantly on the go for twenty hours. A banquet of this magnitude took much preparation; then there were the serving duties once the guests arrived. It had been 3 in the morning by the time the last guests had left and their Mistress had retired. Then of course came the huge clearing up process. No slave was permitted the luxury of sleep until the hall and kitchens were pristine.

The majority of household slaves were allotted six hours rest and sleeping time. But on an occasion such as this that tended to diminish to far less. Fortunately their owner was likely to sleep into the afternoon, for the consequences of her coming down to anything other than perfection were unthinkable.

Whereas this area had been full of chatter and laughter just a few hours earlier, it was now full of eighty slaves working dourly and in silence. Marcus, a senior slave in the household purveyed the scene and was satisfied all would be back to normal by around 10. The dishes and debris were nearly all moved to the kitchen now and the cleaners could get to their hands and knees to begin the arduous scrubbing task.

In fact two of the women were now making a start; one was a girl of eighteen whose pretty features were already beginning to fade. The other was 45 but a lifetime of hard toil had left her looking twenty years older.

The life of a slave in Ancient Rome was indeed harsh.


It was now past noon And the bulk of the staff were rising again after a couple of hours of welcome sleep. They had finished tidying everything up by 9 and only then were permitted to feed on the scraps of the party. As hungry as they were, fatigue was there primary force so they soon crawled onto the blankets in their quarters. These rough blankets were on concrete floors in small rooms which slept a dozen of them in each.

Upstairs in the main chamber three slaves were yet to sleep. There were the Mistress’s two nightime maids who knelt silently on the floor by her bed. They were on hand in case their owner awoke in the night and required a drink or something. Then there was her night time fan, a huge African who wafted an even larger fan crafted from ostrich feathers. Summertime in Rome was under way, and although his Mistress was of Patrician blood (which was thin) even she required something to cool her during the night.

None of these slaves made a noise, as to wake her was considered a crime bordering on Sin.

Fortunately she was still sleeping happily, their Mistress, their reason for living; Julia.

Julia slept with a half smile on her delectable lips, no doubt dreaming of the fun that was had the previous evening. She always slept well, as one of Rome’s wealthiest ladies she had not a worry in the world. How just it was considered that one of such great beauty should have a luxurious and care-free existence. She had fallen asleep the moment she had encountered her silken bed, even before her maid had carefully hung up her splendid gown. It was not lost on the maid that the gown had probably cost Julia far far more than she herself had cost. Therefore she took great care in putting it away, knowing she was more easily replaceable than it.

An hour later Julia awoke, fortunately it was with a smile across her irresistible features. She had taken the grape at the feast but not to excess, however she reached out her perfectly toned arm and one of her maids placed a golden goblet of fresh water into her elegant hand. She drained the cup and handed it back to her slave who bowed her head respectfully.

Julia stretched herself indulgently and rested her head on the palm of her right hand. She thought of the wonderful party and guests of the previous evening and sighed deeply. Inevitably this caused her magnificent breasts to gracefully rise and fall. The fact that she slept naked and was now facing her fan was of no consequence to her. She regarded most of her slaves as animals and so would no more cover herself up than if she was in the presence of a dog. Besides, any slave caught ogling her fine form was brutally whipped, this particular piece of property had been beaten twice for such an offence and was now adequately broken. He simply stared into space as he raised and lowered the fan in order to cool his Mistress.

‘Bath!’ announced Julia, and one of the girls scuttled off to instruct other slaves to prepare her owner’s ablutions. Water had already been heated in anticipation and a chain of slaves toiled to fill the enormous marble bath in quick time. To ensure good time an overseer stood over them with a leather whip in hand. From time to time he gave one or other of them an encouraging lash to increase their swiftness.

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