Caligula: A Biography Read online

  The payments to the Praetorian Guard allowed Caligula to provide a striking reminder of his own power. Before the assembled Senate, he inspected his bodyguards, who had sworn an oath of loyalty to him. It was not lost on the spectators at the drill that the officers and men under Macro’s command were largely the same men who had not so long ago, on the orders of the previous emperor or Sejanus, arrested, tortured, or beheaded no small number of their Senate colleagues.

  A further symbolic act honored the members of Caligula’s immediate family who had predeceased him. Despite stormy seas Caligula sailed at once to the islands where his mother and brother had died, exhumed their remains himself, and brought them back to Ostia, Rome’s port. From there he had them transported up the Tiber to the city by ship. At midday, when the streets were most crowded, prominent knights carried the two urns through Rome on litters normally used for transporting statues of gods. The procession ended at the Mausoleum of Augustus, where the remains were interred. The whole ceremony was arranged to resemble a delayed triumph for the family of Germanicus: A field marshal’s standard flew from the stern of the ship, and Caligula wore a purple-bordered toga and was accompanied by lictors, as if he himself were a victorious commander. It was decreed that an image of his mother, Agrippina, mounted on a carriage, would henceforth accompany all festival processions. The month of September was renamed after Germanicus, who joined Julius Caesar and Augustus as the only men so honored.

  These extraordinary honors for the dead were complemented by others for the living members of Caligula’s family. The Senate granted to his grandmother Antonia Minor the title Augusta and all the further marks of distinction once given to Livia. The emperor chose his uncle Claudius, who until then had received no attention at all, to serve with him as co-consul during his first term in that office. And on behalf of his sisters Drusilla, Agrippina, and Livilla he decreed that the following sentence be included in all public oaths: “I will not hold myself and my children dearer than I do Gaius and his sisters” (Suet. Cal. 15.3). The sisters were further awarded the privilege of sitting with him in the emperor’s box when they attended games at the Circus. Lastly, Caligula adopted Tiberius Gemellus, only some seven years younger than himself, and granted him the toga virilis along with the title “Prince of the Youth,” which Augustus had given to the grandsons whom he intended to make his heirs. Thus Caligula’s co-heir and rival for the throne, who had been passed over when Tiberius’s will was set aside, became his son—and the favored candidate to succeed the brand-new emperor.

  Next Caligula renounced honors for himself or any acknowledgment in public of his unique status. He forbade statues of himself to be erected within the city of Rome, and abandoned Tiberius’s custom of sending letters to the Senate and people; such letters had long before acquired the force of official directives, so that to continue them would have belied Caligula’s stated intention to share power. Finally he let three months pass before assuming the consulship on 1 July 37. Despite depleted political significance, the consulship remained the highest regular office in Rome, and had been held several times by Augustus and Tiberius during their rule, for the distinction it conferred. By postponing his entry upon the consulship Caligula prevented the two men in office from having to resign. His stint in office, which lasted only about two months, enabled the two senators who had been next in line for the honorific positions to fill them for the remainder of the year.

  When he did take up the office of consul, Caligula used the occasion to deliver a policy speech in the Senate, for the first time explicitly distancing himself from Tiberius. He criticized all the actions that had earned his predecessor the enmity of the aristocracy, and announced a number of provisions for his own rule, including concessions. These corresponded so closely to the senators’ own wishes that, as Cassius Dio reports, “the Senate, fearing that he might change his mind, issued a decree that this speech should be read every year” (Dio 59.6.7). Otherwise Caligula’s brief first consulate consisted largely of magnificent festivities, which reached a climax with the formal dedication of the temple the new emperor had completed for his great-grandfather, the deified Augustus. All the senators and their wives along with the people of Rome were invited to a banquet in the city, and games were held on an unparalleled scale. Four hundred bears and the same number of beasts of prey from Libya were killed in combat in the arena, and chariot races allowed young aristocrats to display their most dashing form. Caligula himself appeared driving a triumphal chariot drawn by six horses, “something that had never been done before” (Dio 59.7.4). The emperor also took advantage of his first consulate to simplify the rules of protocol. He abolished a ritual that had upheld the ruler’s unique status, the customary greeting to an emperor in the city, and from then on appeared in the role of a simple citizen—at least as far as ceremonial greetings were concerned.

  The first few months of Caligula’s reign can be clearly seen as an attempt to copy the Augustan Principate—a development that his contemporaries in the aristocracy no doubt registered with satisfaction. On the level of official politics his sole rule was not in evidence; rather he insisted that power was shared between the princeps and the Senate. He paid strict attention to the proper forms of communication between the emperor and the aristocrats in the Senate, which had traditionally symbolized their equality. He avoided any display of honor due to his position of political power in everyday social encounters. Within the city Caligula insisted upon forms of address befitting an ordinary (aristocratic) citizen; the Romans praised this as an example of civilitas, civic and unassuming behavior. On the other hand Caligula was unmistakably the sole ruler. He alone commanded the armed forces, a fact that every senator could observe when the Praetorian Guard went through its drills. He used his financial means, far superior to everyone else’s, to make gifts of money and hold games, fostering a sense of obligation among soldiers and the common people in general. He found clever ways to augment the family prestige accruing to him through his descent, which helped to solidify his position as emperor.

  All this meant was that Caligula resumed the ambiguous form of communication that had been established under Augustus (and later collapsed under Tiberius) to disguise the simultaneous existence of an aristocratic republic and autarchy. The Senate resolution requiring that Caligula’s speech as consul be recorded and read aloud annually reveals tellingly how aware the senators were of the situation and how complex all communication became as a result. It shows that they knew power was shared at the emperor’s pleasure and the arrangement could be rescinded at any time—in other words, that power was not really shared at all. Yet they could neither directly express their distrust of the emperor’s declaration that he would share power, nor openly try to force him to keep his word, since either action would imply that his promise was empty. They had to take the indirect form of awarding him an honor. On its manifest level the Senate resolution said: The emperor has given such a momentous and important speech that it deserves to be read aloud every year. At the same time, however, the honor latently revealed that emperor had not truly shared power, for otherwise it would not have been necessary to remind him of his obligation in this way.

  That the senators were adept at this form of communication is not surprising. But where did Caligula learn it? How could someone without the least experience in institutional Roman politics have possessed such a perfect command of it from the start? How had his ability to present himself as an Augustan princeps developed? Clearly the role had been well thought out, and Caligula played it well. Who advised him on the matter?

  Philo identifies Macro and Marcus Junius Silanus as the men behind the young emperor. As Praetorian prefect Macro held the highest office possible for a knight, and Silanus, Caligula’s former father-in-law, had the highest standing in the aristocracy because of his seniority among the senators. Both men had advanced to their positions under Tiberius; they belonged to the inner circle of power, and their management had smoothed Caligula’s elev
ation to the throne. Dio reports that Macro arranged the Senate’s approval in advance with the two consuls and “others”; Silanus’s status must have ensured that he was included. We may safely assume that the configuration of Caligula’s rule had been discussed in this circle and concessions made to any men or groups who were reluctant.

  Macro and Silanus are also supposed to have guided the young emperor after his elevation. Of the former Philo writes: “Knowing . . . that he had saved Gaius over and over again when within an ace of destruction [i.e., on Capri], he gave his admonitions frankly and without disguise, for like a good builder he wished his handiwork to remain proof against destruction or dissolution either by himself or by another” (Phil. Leg. 41). Macro advised Caligula how an emperor should behave at aristocratic banquets or at theatrical performances for the common people, and also gave him lectures on the art of governing: “The fittest contribution for a ruler is to put forth good proposals for the benefit of his subjects, to execute these proposals in the best way possible, and to bring forth good gifts with a bountiful hand and will” (Phil. Leg. 51). Silanus played a similar role: “In all his discourse, he talked as a guardian, concealing nothing that might tend to improve and benefit Gaius’s character, conduct, and government. He had, indeed, strong inducements to speak freely in his preeminently noble lineage and his close connection by marriage. For his daughter had died only a short time before; the rights of her kinsfolk had grown faint . . . but some last remnants of their vitality still existed” (Phil. Leg. 63).

  As for Caligula’s share in his Augustan Principate, all that can be said is that he played the role to perfection. Though indubitably better than before his elevation to the throne, his situation continued to be anything but simple. The two manipulators who had made him emperor had cemented their own positions of power at the same time and were hardly about to give them up voluntarily. Furthermore by adopting Gemellus he had created an abiding rival for the throne. Thus the two powerful men behind the throne always had an option open; there was an alternative to Caligula.

  ILLNESS AND CONSOLIDATION

  As in other pre-modern monarchies, the advent of a new ruler in ancient Rome frequently bred conflict at the center of power—structural conflict, intensified through generational differences. Would the trusted entourage of the old emperor adjust to the new one? They owed their rise and influence to the old ruler and had not been chosen by the new one; their position was independent of his favor, at least in the beginning. Typically a new ruler gathered his own close confidants around him; these began as rivals of the inner circle from the old regime and then pushed them aside. The rearrangement could be an adaptation, or it could be a great upheaval.

  Caligula’s closest confidants were his sisters—who shared with him not only ties of blood but also the experience of great danger under Tiberius; the husband of one of them also belonged to the inner circle. Caligula felt extraordinary affection for Drusilla especially. Tiberius had arranged her marriage to Lucius Cassius Longinus, but they were now divorced; her second husband, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, belonged to the same generation as the siblings. Lepidus came from a high-ranking family with its own ties to the imperial house, and he was Caligula’s closest confidant among the aristocracy. What kind of relationship would develop between this circle on the one hand and Macro and Silanus on the other?

  A resolution developed more quickly than might have been expected. In the eighth month of his reign, at the end of October 37, Caligula fell gravely ill. No information has survived about what the disease was. The population of Rome was alarmed and grieved. Large crowds are said to have demonstrated their concern for the young emperor by surrounding the Palatine Hill every night, waiting for news. What would happen if he died? Who would succeed him?

  All the known events of the next few weeks allow the following conclusion to be drawn: Macro and Silanus, the two leading men, seized the initiative. In case Caligula should die, they conferred with a number of people and prepared the way for Tiberius Gemellus, the only possible successor in the existing dynastic constellation. This was the only rational strategy, the only one that fit the circumstances, although they obviously set about implementing it a little too soon. Any other choice would have encouraged the ambitions of aristocratic pretenders to the throne and risked an outbreak of violent conflict. A crisis had developed sooner than anyone could have anticipated. Caligula’s adoption of Gemellus had been strategic, but laden with possible future difficulties. It would constitute a problem if he were to have a biological son or wish to name someone else as heir. In the meantime, however, there was no alternative to Gemellus, and this meant that if Caligula died, his sisters and Aemilius Lepidus would lose their unique position and the power attached to it; conceivably even their personal safety might be threatened.

  In this situation Caligula first seized the initiative as emperor. From his sickbed he named his favorite sister, Drusilla, to inherit the imperial “property and the throne” (bonorum atque imperii; Suet. Cal. 24.1), in effect making Lepidus his successor. As soon as he regained his health, he laid a plan that was brutal but under the circumstances only logical: to eliminate Tiberius Gemellus, who as long as he lived would remain a magnet for conspirators hostile to the emperor and ambitious to place their own man on the throne. Gemellus was accused of plotting against Caligula, of having counted on his death and attempted to profit from it. A centurion and a military tribune were dispatched and forced him to commit suicide. Philo vividly describes the tragic scene: Since Gemellus had no experience of warfare and had never witnessed a suicide, he had to be instructed in the technique, “and having received this first and last lesson he was forced to become his own murderer” (Phil. Leg. 31).

  The loss of an established candidate for the succession weakened Macro and Silanus. Not long afterward, probably at the start of the year 38, it was the turn of Macro and his wife, Ennia, to fall from power. To replace a Praetorian prefect was an enterprise fraught with danger, but nevertheless it was achieved smoothly in two steps. First the emperor appointed Macro prefect of Egypt, the second-highest office in the Empire for a knight, and replaced him not with one man but with two. Caligula was following Augustus’s model: Since the man in charge of the emperor’s bodyguard always represented a potential threat, Augustus had named two to the position at a time, ensuring that they would be rivals for power and keep an eye on one another. Caligula seems to have chosen the appointees wisely. They were men plucked from obscurity (only one, Marcus Arrecinus Clemens, is known by name) and owed a particularly great debt to the emperor as a result.

  Before Macro could embark for Egypt, he and many other people were charged with crimes and then either executed or forced to commit suicide. In Philo’s words, Caligula began to “fabricate charges against him, which though false were plausible and readily believed”; on one count Macro had supposedly claimed that Caligula was a creature of his making and that the emperor owed the throne to him (Phil. Leg. 57–58). Some were found guilty on the basis of witnesses’ testimony and the evidence from earlier trials, supposedly destroyed, that they had participated in attacks on Caligula’s mother, his brothers, and their supporters. Others were accused of behaving inappropriately during the emperor’s illness. The charges suggest that the main targets were old enemies of Germanicus’s family who had hoped for Gemellus’s accession and presumably acted accordingly. One such man was Avillius Flaccus, who lost his office as prefect of Egypt in the autumn of 38.

  Then it was Silanus’s turn. It sufficed for the emperor to indicate his displeasure with him in the Senate. Caligula altered the procedure so that the former consuls would vote in order of seniority, thus terminating Silanus’s privilege as highest-ranking senator. Everyone who had lived through the reign of Tiberius realized that it was only a matter of time until some unscrupulous senators would bring charges against the man whom Caligula had publicly demoted. Silanus saw the handwriting on the wall and committed suicide, enabling his family to retain his fortun
e, since if he had been tried and found guilty it would have been confiscated.

  Judged by the standards of a modern society in which political disagreements and power struggles are conducted without violence, Caligula’s elimination of the people who had helped him secure the throne, and particularly his treatment of young Gemellus, were reprehensible. Given his experience of life near the throne, however, he may well have felt he had a stark alternative: Either them or me and my family. From the perspective of today this assessment can hardly be termed incorrect, and contemporaries concurred with it. Philo, whose aim is otherwise to stress Caligula’s immorality, cites at length opinions that ran counter to his own appraisal:

  “Of his own cousin and fellow heir they would talk thus: ‘Sovereignty cannot be shared; that is an immutable law of nature. He being the stronger promptly did to the weaker what the weaker would have done to him. This is defense, not murder. Perhaps, too, it was providential and for the benefit of all mankind that the lad was put out of the way, since some would have been partisans of him and others of Gaius, and it is such things that create disturbances and wars both civil and foreign.’ . . . Of Macro they said, ‘His pride extended beyond reasonable limits . . . What reason had he for reversing his part and transferring the subject to the rank of ruler, and Gaius, the emperor, to the place of a subject? To command, which is what he did, befits best the sovereign, and to obey, which is what he deemed Gaius should submit to, befits the subject’ . . . In the case of Silanus, the argument ran, ‘he was under a ridiculous delusion in thinking that a father-in-law had the same influence over a son-in-law as a real father has over his son . . . But this silly man, even though he had ceased to be a father-in-law, extended his activities beyond his sphere and did not understand that the death of his daughter carried with it the death of the matrimonial affinity’ ” (Phil. Leg. 67–71).