The Death of Nero: Rome’s Last Julio-Claudian Emperor Meets His End
- dthholland
- Jun 9
- 4 min read
In the early summer of 68 CE, the last direct descendant of Julius Caesar and Augustus lay trembling in a suburban villa outside Rome, deserted by nearly everyone who once swore fealty to him. Just thirty years old, Emperor Nero—actor, poet, athlete, and accused arsonist—faced the prospect of a public execution by his enemies. But as dawn broke on 9 June, the man who once ruled the known world took matters into his own hands.
This is the story of Nero’s final days—a tangled narrative of betrayal, paranoia, and theatrical irony that brought the Julio-Claudian dynasty to a dramatic and ignoble close.
A Tyrant in Decline
By the time of his downfall, Nero’s popularity in Rome had plummeted. Though he had begun his reign in 54 CE with some promise—guided by the philosopher Seneca and the capable prefect Burrus—his later years were marked by excess, cruelty, and erratic behaviour. He is remembered for his alleged role in the Great Fire of Rome in 64 CE, though historians remain divided on whether he started it or simply used the disaster as a pretext to rebuild the city according to his own grand vision. What is more certain is that he blamed the Christians, initiating one of the earliest imperial persecutions of the sect.
Nero also alienated the senatorial class through lavish spending, confiscations of property, and a tendency to micromanage government through freedmen and favourites. His obsession with performance—he sang, acted, and raced chariots in public—was deeply at odds with Roman ideas of dignified rule. To the upper classes, this was not just eccentricity; it was sacrilege.
Worse still, Nero’s paranoia had grown fatal. He executed his own mother, Agrippina the Younger, in 59 CE, followed by his first wife Octavia, his tutor Seneca, and numerous senators. Even his second wife, Poppaea Sabina, reportedly died at his hands—kicked to death while pregnant.
But it was not scandal that ultimately toppled him. It was a political vacuum and a slow-burning rebellion that began far from the city.
The March of the Legions
In March of 68 CE, Gaius Julius Vindex, the governor of Gallia Lugdunensis, revolted against Nero’s rule. Though Vindex was defeated and committed suicide, his rebellion had far-reaching consequences. It emboldened other regional powers to act. Chief among them was Servius Sulpicius Galba, the governor of Hispania Tarraconensis.
Galba declared himself legatus of the Roman Senate and People—a loaded title that implied he, not Nero, represented the true Roman state. The crucial turning point came when the commander of the Praetorian Guard, Nymphidius Sabinus, abandoned Nero and declared for Galba. With his personal guard gone and the Senate proclaiming him a public enemy, Nero fled Rome.
Flight and Final Hours
According to the Roman historian Suetonius, Nero awoke on the morning of 8 June to find his palace abandoned. The Praetorians were gone. The imperial bodyguards were nowhere to be found. Even the slaves had disappeared or were helping themselves to whatever valuables remained.
In disguise, Nero fled the city with a few loyal freedmen, including Phaon, Epaphroditus, Neophytus, and Sporus—a young boy he had infamously married after the death of Poppaea. They made for Phaon’s villa outside the city, possibly near the Via Salaria. There, Nero hid in a storeroom, terrified and indecisive.
He reportedly asked his companions to dig a grave and prepare a shallow trench for his body. They refused. As the sound of approaching horsemen grew louder—likely a detachment sent to arrest him—Nero finally steeled himself for death.
Yet even in suicide, he faltered. Lacking the courage to strike the fatal blow himself, he begged his secretary, Epaphroditus, to help. With assistance, Nero stabbed himself in the throat. His last words, according to legend, were “Qualis artifex pereo!”—“What an artist dies in me!”
He died on 9 June 68 CE, hours before he would have been dragged naked through Rome and beaten to death in the Forum.
Aftermath and Historical Reckoning
With Nero’s death, the Julio-Claudian dynasty ended. He was the last emperor directly descended from Augustus. The year that followed, known as the Year of the Four Emperors, was a time of immense instability. Galba, Otho, Vitellius, and finally Vespasian all claimed the throne in rapid succession. Vespasian, the founder of the Flavian dynasty, eventually restored order.
Publicly, Nero was reviled. His statues were torn down. His name was erased from inscriptions. The Senate declared a damnatio memoriae—a formal condemnation of his memory. Yet the people, especially in the eastern provinces and among the lower classes, mourned him. Stories began to circulate that Nero was not truly dead, that he had fled to Parthia, and would one day return.
Indeed, three separate pretenders known as the “Pseudo-Neros” would arise in the years after his death, each claiming to be the returned emperor.
Nero’s legacy remains complex. Ancient historians such as Tacitus, Suetonius, and Cassius Dio, writing under later emperors, were almost universally hostile. Their portraits emphasised his cruelty, vanity, and debauchery. But modern scholarship has questioned this narrative, noting that Nero’s popularity with the common people and his investment in public works—like a massive new theatre and a rebuilding of Rome—deserve more balanced consideration.
Even so, there is little doubt that by 68 CE, Nero had lost all political capital. His final moments, alone and trembling in a villa storeroom, stand in stark contrast to the grandeur he so desperately sought in life. It was a death not of an emperor, but of a man left behind by history, betrayed by his own ambition and the institutions he had once controlled.
