But he had one enemy. His wife’s brother had deeply resented the marriage of Annia Regilla to a man whom he considered a low-born outsider, quite unfit to mate with a maid of his own patrician house; and, she being dead, the haughty aristocrat gave free rein to his animosity and accused Herodes of having poisoned his spouse. The absurdity of the indictment was potent to all, but the outraged widower insisted upon being publicly tried for the crime. The outcome, as he intended it should, crushed the calumny forever, the Judges declaring that his devotion to his wife during her lifetime and the unmistakable sincerity of his grief at her death were all-sufficient proofs of his innocence. The fury of anger roused in him by the attack seems to have recalled his energies and restored his balance of mind. He quit mere repining, and swore to erect to his dead such a monument as woman never had before. The beautiful villa where their happy years had been passed stood in a shallow valley of the Campagna, some little distance to the right of the Appian Way, not far from the already ancient tomb of Cecilia Metella. At that time the land along the Appian Way, nearly as far as the Alban Hills, was covered with palaces and villas, costly monuments and beautiful gardens. The home of the wealthy Greek was remarkable enough to be famous even among these, although he had chosen for its site a piece of land belonging to his wife, indeed, but held till then in rather scornful repute. In spite of the fact that a small temple of Jupiter had stood there from very early times, this charming valley had been used as a spot to which the “Jews,” otherwise the Christians, had more than once been banished under very hard conditions, to punish their contumacy in refusing to sacrifice to the statues of the gods. Here, says a learned Catholic historian, St. Peter himself came with many of his flock, during his first visit to Rome, to take refuge in the subterranean crypts which, hastily dug in those early years, were afterwards enlarged and extended till they formed an underground city for the living and a safe resting-place for the dead.