We had the Treasury in Saturn’s, although money was coined in that of Juno Moneta. The Temple of Ceres housed the offices of the aediles; treaties and wills were kept in the Temple of Vesta. We declared war at the Temple of Bellona. We used the basilicas to hold courts, but they were used as much for markets and banks. Numerous minor temples housed lesser civic functions.
But the Archive kept the bulk of the records of government, many of them going back centuries. It was staffed by state-owned slaves and freedmen. In those days they were among the very few slaves owned directly by the state, unlike the vast slave bureaucracy that surrounds us now. They were very haughty, self-important slaves, too. The freedmen were even worse.
There was no real system or order to the place. It was not like the great Library at Alexandria where anyone who could read could walk straight to the wing where the work he desired was stored and find it within a few minutes. The Archive slaves simply kept everything in their memories, thus rendering themselves indispensable.
A bit of asking brought me to a warren presided over by a freed-man named Androcles. He was not happy to see me. They never were.
“Senator Metellus, is it?” he said, as if merely speaking my name were an intolerable imposition. “I thought the whole City had taken a holiday, all flocking out to the Campus to see the soldiers, as if they’ve never seen such a prodigy. Well, some people still have to work!”
“Excellent,” I said, “then you won’t mind doing a little work for me.”
“What?” He looked as if I had insulted his family, his homeland, and his national gods. “Have you any idea what is demanded of us here? Are you aware that Caesar’s new conquests have added not one but three, three, mind you, new provinces to the Empire?” His voice had risen to a shout.
“Yes, but—”
“There isn’t just to be a Province of Gaul,” he went on, ignoring me. “No, that’s not good enough for Caesar! There is to be a Province of Belgica, one of Aquitania, and one of Lugdunensis! Three brand-new provinces all at once! Oh, it’s easy to kill a flock of barbarians and conquer the place, but who do you think has to organize and administer that wilderness? With three complete sets of public servants to establish a government, arrange its finances, and keep its records? And we’re still getting Cyprus organized. Next thing you know, some fool is going to annex Egypt! Or Britannia!”
“Actually,” I said, “it isn’t so easy to conquer a new province, and the Senate will see to its administration.”
“The Senate? The Senate names provincial governors! They don’t do any work! You know that; you’re a senator yourself. We have to provide the record keepers, keep the correspondence moving between the provinces and Rome, and build another level of rooms for this place so we can store them all. And do you think the Senate is going to vote us the budget to take care of all this? Hah!”
Hermes stepped forward and took a pouch from within his tunic. When he shook it, it made a musical jingle.
“Well, what is it you want?” Androcles asked, now marginally less hostile.
“I need documents pertaining to the citizenship status of the Tribune of the People Manilius, soon to leave office.”
His eyes went wide. “Find documents pertaining to one citizen among all this—”
“Oh, shut up,” Hermes said. As a freedman himself he knew all the poses and dodges. “You know perfectly well that you got all that stuff together when Manilius declared himself a candidate. And I happen to know that you keep the records pertaining to all serving magistrates handy because every climbing politician who wants to sue one of them for malfeasance comes here and bribes you for a look at them, just like we’re doing. So go get them now.”
Androcles glared at him. “I don’t have to take that from some jumped-up errand boy! I remember when you carried the Senator’s scraper and bath oil, and he was ill-advised to entrust you with those.”
I placed an arm around his shoulders. “My friend Androcles, I know how overworked you are, and I, for one, appreciate the toil and stress of your office. Now, as one servant of the Senate and People to another, could you see if you can find these things for me?”
“Well,” he said, somewhat mollified, “let me see what’s to be found.” He stalked off between two stacks of shelves, calling for his slave assistants.
“Always the politician, eh?” Hermes said.
“He’s a voter, too, Hermes. Never forget that.”
A slave appeared a short time later, holding an armload of scrolls and tablets. “Where do you want these?”