Roman emperors

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The World of The Blood Road – Part I – Caracalla: Emperor and Murderer

Salvete, Readers and Romanophiles!

Welcome to this first post in our exciting new blog series The World of The Blood Road! In this nine-part series, we’re going to be taking a look at some of the history, people, and places that appear and provide the settings for this sixth book in the #1 best selling Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series.

If you’re a fan of the series, and don’t want any spoilers at all (such as where the story will lead you across the Empire), then you may wish to hold off until you’ve read the book.

However, if you just want to get stuck into the history and research that went into this novel, read on! We hope you enjoy it!

Emperor Caracalla

When we look at lists of Rome’s emperors, inevitably there are a few names that jump out at us because of their infamy and the brutality of their deeds. Emperors such as Caligula or Commodus might stand out to some. But, the beginning of the 3rd century A.D. is no less marred by the presence of another such Roman Emperor: Caracalla.

Fans of the Eagles and Dragons series will already be familiar with the bloody deeds which Caracalla may have perpetrated in Eburacum after the death of his father, Septimius Severus. If you missed the post on mass murder in Roman York, you can read that by CLICKING HERE. 

After the death of Severus, Caracalla and his brother, Geta, became co-emperors, and each of them hurried back to Rome separately to establish their own power at the heart of the Empire.

This tumultuous beginning to their reign is where The Blood Road begins.

Septimius Severus

It could be said that Caracalla and Geta’s father, Septimius Severus, was the only great emperor of the Severan dynasty. However, even good emperors can have major flaws and, like Marcus Aurelius before him, Severus’ greatest flaw was, perhaps, that he trusted in his sons far too much.

One theory about the Caledonian campaign is that Severus saw it as a way to force his sons to mend their troubled ways and end their squabbling. But this did not have the intended outcome. As soon as Severus died, people braced themselves for the inevitable quarrel between the two brothers. Cassius Dio describes the scene in Rome when the two emperors returned from Caledonia:

As for his own brother, Antoninus had wished to slay him even while his father was yet alive, but had been unable to do so at the time because of Severus, or later, on the march, because of the legions; for the troops felt very kindly toward the younger brother, especially as he resembled his father very closely in appearance. But when Antoninus got back to Rome, he made away with him also. The two pretended to love and commend each other, but in all that they did they were diametrically opposed, and anyone could see that something terrible was bound to result from the situation. This was foreseen even before they reached Rome. For when the senate had voted that sacrifices should be offered on behalf of their concord both to the other gods and to Concord herself, and the assistants had got ready the victim to be sacrificed to Concord and the consul had arrived to superintend the sacrifice, neither he could find them nor they him, but they spent nearly the entire night in searching for one another, so that the sacrifice could not be performed then.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, LXXVIII-1)

Rare bust of Geta in the Louvre (Wikimedia Commons)

There was even talk of ill-omens within the city, specifically one mentioned by Cassius Dio in which “two wolves went up on the Capitol, but were chased away from there; one of them was found and slain somewhere in the Forum and the other was killed later outside the pomerium. This incident also had reference to the brothers.”

In the middle of the tense stand-off between the two brothers was their mother, Julia Domna, who was constantly seeking to reconcile her sons, just as her husband had.

Julia Domna

When, according to Herodian, the brothers devised a pretence of dividing up the Empire that their father had worked so tirelessly to unite, Julia Domna pleaded with them:

As the brothers were now completely at odds in even the most trivial matters, their mother undertook to effect a reconciliation.

And at that time they concluded that it was best to divide the empire, to avoid remaining in Rome and continuing their intrigues. Summoning the advisers appointed by their father, with their mother present too, they decided to partition the empire: Caracalla to have all Europe, and Geta all the lands lying opposite Europe, the region known as Asia.

For, they said, the two continents were separated by the Propontic Gulf as if by divine foresight. It was agreed that Caracalla establish his headquarters at Byzantium, with Geta’s at Chalcedon in Bithynia; the two stations, on opposite sides of the straits, would guard each empire and prevent any crossings at that point. They decided too that it was best that the European senators remain in Rome, and those from the Asiatic regions accompany Geta.

For his capital city, Geta said that either Antioch or Alexandria would be suitable, since, in his opinion, neither city was much inferior in size to Rome. Of the Southern provinces, the lands of the Moors, the Numidians, and the adjacent Libyans were given to Caracalla, and the regions east of these peoples were allotted to Geta.

While they were engaged in cleaving the empire, all the rest kept their eyes fixed on the ground, but Julia cried out: “Earth and sea, my children, you have found a way to divide, and, as you say, the Propontic Gulf separates the continents. But your mother, how would you parcel her? How am I, unhappy,  wretched – how am I to be torn and ripped asunder for the pair of you? Kill me first, and after you have claimed your share, let each one perform the funeral rites for his portion. Thus would I, too, together with earth and sea, be partitioned between you.”

After saying this, amid tears and lamentations, Julia stretched out her hands and, clasping them both in her arms, tried to reconcile them. And with all pitying her, the meeting adjourned and the project was abandoned. Each youth returned to his half of the imperial palace.

(Herodian, History of the Roman Empire, 4.3)

Sadly, it seems the Goddess Concord turned her back on the situation, just as Caracalla and Geta had turned their backs on her. Rome’s ‘wolves’ were determined to destroy each other, and each was aware of plots against him. They both became obsessed and paranoid (perhaps rightly so) and as Herodian tells us: “They tried every sort of intrigue; each, for example, attempted to persuade the other’s cooks and cupbearers to administer some deadly poison. It was not easy for either one to succeed in these attempts, however: both were exceedingly careful and took many precautions. Finally, unable to endure the situation any longer and maddened by the desire for sole power, Caracalla decided to act…”

Palace of Septimius Severus, Palatine Hill, Rome (photo by Lasse Lofstrom; Trek Earth)

Throughout the history of Rome, there have been many heinous acts perpetrated by emperors, but what happened next is perhaps near the top of the list.

Frustrated by another failed attempt upon Geta’s life at Saturnalia in A.D. 211, Caracalla decided enough was enough:

Antoninus [Caracalla] induced his mother to summon them both, unattended, to her apartment, with a view to reconciling them. Thus Geta was persuaded, and went in with him; but when they were inside, some centurions, previously instructed by Antoninus, rushed in a body and struck down Geta, who at sight of them had run to his mother, hung about her neck and clung to her bosom and breasts, lamenting and crying: “Mother that didst bear me, mother that didst bear me, help! I am being murdered.” And so she, tricked in this way, saw her son perishing in the most impious fashion in her arms, and received him at his death into the very womb, as it were, whence he had been born; for she was all covered with his blood, so that she took no note of the wound she had received on her hand. But she was not permitted to mourn or weep for her son, though he had met so miserable an end before his time…she alone, the Augusta, wife of the emperor and mother of the emperors, was not permitted to shed tears even in private over so great a sorrow.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, LXXVIII-2)

Geta Dying in his Mother’s Arms by Jacques-Augustin-Catherine Pajou, Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart, Germany (Wikimedia Commons)

Dio tells us that Caracalla ordered the centurions to murder Geta, and Herodian says that Caracalla did the deed himself. Either way, it seems that Geta bled to death in his mother’s arms.

Fratricide was highly frowned upon, and Caracalla knew that Geta had a lot of supporters among the people, the senators, and in the legions. Herodian tells us that he fled, under guard, to the Praetorian camp where he explained to the troops that he had escaped a plot against his life, and that the Gods had chosen him as sole emperor.

In gratitude for his deliverance and in return for the sole rule, he promised each soldier 2,500 denarii and increased their ration allowance by one-half. He ordered the praetorians to go immediately and take the money from the temple depositories and the treasuries. In a single day he recklessly distributed all the money which Severus had collected and hoarded from the calamities of others over a period of eighteen years.

When they heard about this vast amount of money, although they were aware of what had actually occurred, the murder having been made common knowledge by fugitives from the palace, the praetorians at once proclaimed Caracalla emperor and called Geta enemy.

(Herodian, History of the Roman Empire, 4.4)

After this bloody act, when he emerged from the protection of the Castra Praetoria with his guard, Caracalla set about securing his position as sole emperor with further acts of blood.

In a long series of proscriptions, with the legions and Praetorian Guard behind him, safely purchased with all of the funds he could muster, Caracalla set about eliminating anyone who could pose a potential threat, or even whisper a word against him:

Of the imperial freedmen and soldiers who had been with Geta he immediately put to death some twenty thousand, men and women alike, wherever in the palace any of them happened to be; and he slew various distinguished men…

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, LXXVIII-4)

Many perished with the beginning of Caracalla’s sole rule as emperor, and one wonders if he ever lived that down. His father’s past advice about securing the loyalty of the legions was, it seemed, the only thing that saved him, at least for a time. No matter one’s station, anyone with a passing connection to Geta was slain, and the list is a lengthy one, according to Herodian:

Geta’s friends and associates were immediately butchered, together with those who lived in his half of the imperial palace. All his attendants were put to death too; not a single one was spared because of his age, not even the infants. Their bodies, after first being dragged about and subjected to every form of indignity, were placed in carts and taken out of the city; there they were piled up and burned or simply thrown in the ditch.

No one who had the slightest acquaintance with Geta was spared: athletes, charioteers, and singers and dancers of every type were killed. Everything that Geta kept around him to delight eye and ear was destroyed. Senators distinguished because of ancestry or wealth were put to death as friends of Geta upon the slightest unsupported charge of an unidentified accuser.

He killed Commodus’ sister [Cornificia], then an old woman, who as the daughter of Marcus had been treated with honour by all the emperors. Caracalla offered as his reason for murdering her the fact that she had wept with his mother over the death of Geta. His wife [Plautilla], the daughter of Plautianus, who was then in Sicily; his first cousin Severus; the son of Pertinax; the son of Lucilla, Commodus’ sister [Pompeianus]; in fact, anyone who belonged to the imperial family and any senator of distinguished ancestry, all were cut down to the last one. 

Then, sending his assassins to the provinces, he put to death the governors and procurators friendly to Geta. Each night saw the murder of men in every walk of life. He burned Vestal Virgins alive because they were unchaste. Finally, the emperor did something that had never been done before; while he was watching a chariot race, the crowd insulted the charioteer he favoured. Believing this to be a personal attack, Caracalla ordered the Praetorian Guard to attack the crowd and lead off and kill those shouting insults at his driver.

The praetorians, given authority to use force and to rob, but no longer able to identify those who had shouted so recklessly (it was impossible to find them in so large a mob, since no one admitted his guilt), took out those they managed to catch and either killed them or, after taking whatever they had as ransom, spared their lives, but reluctantly.

(Herodian, History of the Roman Empire, 4.6)

Despite the bloodbath, Caracalla was not yet finished with his brother, and what he did next was, perhaps, indicative of the extreme hatred he had for Geta.

Caracalla now sought to fully erase his brother Geta’s very existence from the historical record in an act that has come to be called, in modern times, damnatio memoriae, the ‘condemnation of memory’.

All across the empire Geta’s name was ordered to be struck from documents and his image erased or destroyed in paintings, statuary, upon monuments, and coinage. Anywhere Geta appeared, he was to be erased.

Portrait of the Severan family with Geta’s face erased.

Due to the bloody start to his reign, Emperor Caracalla’s infamy was now solidified. His survival was due mainly to the loyalty of the troops, but as we shall see later in this blog series, even that would last for a finite amount of time. Caracalla was not his father, Septimius Severus, and he would prove that to the world he was so desperate to rule. It would only be a matter of time before his enemies caught up with him.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this first post in The World of The Blood Road blog series. Stayed tuned for Part II in which we will look at travel and transportation in the Roman Empire.

The Blood Road is available on-line now in e-book and paperback at major retailers. CLICK HERE to get your copy. You can also buy direct from Eagles and Dragons Publishing for any device HERE.

If you are new to the Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series, you can check out the #1 best selling prequel, A Dragon among the Eagles for just 1.99 HERE.

Thank you for reading.

 

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The World of The Dragon: Genesis – Part VII Sibling Rivalry: The Plot to Kill Commodus

Commodus was guilty of many unseemly deeds, and killed a great many people.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History)

Salvete, history-lovers!

Welcome back to The World of The Dragon: Genesis, the blog series about the research that went into our latest historical fantasy release set in the world of ancient Rome.

If you missed part six, about the Antonine Plague, you can read it HERE.

In this seventh and final part of the blog series, we’re going to be taking a brief look at the children of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor (‘the younger’), the reign of Emperor Commodus, and the plots against his life.

Was Commodus really the monster we imagine him to be, the megalomaniacal ruler we were confronted with in the movie Gladiator?

Read on to learn more. 

Faustina Minor and Marcus Aurelius as Venus and Mars – Capitoline Museum

Some people view the reigns of Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius as a sort of golden age of rulership in the Roman World. That was certainly true of Antoninus Pius, and perhaps less for Marcus Aurelius’ reign, but any sense of a golden age certainly ended with the accession of Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus who ruled as sole emperor from A.D. 180-192.

It was at this time that the Roman Empire perhaps took a turn for the worst. The time of the ‘five good emperors’ was at an end.

Because of popular culture, the two children of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor that most people are aware of are Commodus and his sister, Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla, or ‘Lucilla’. However, what many may not know is that Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor had thirteen children together over the period of their thirty-year marriage.

Most of these young Aurelii died young. There was the first-born, Domitia Faustina, who died at the age of five in A.D. 151. Then there were Titus Aelius Antoninus and Titus Aelius Aurelius who both died in 149. After the birth of Lucilla in 150, two more children were born, Annia Galeria Aurelia Faustina, and Tiberius Aelius Antoninus who died in 151 and 155, respectively, before another unknown child died in 157. Titus Aurelius Fulvus Antoninus, Commodus’ twin brother, died at the age of four in 165, then Marcus Annius Verus Caesar passed at the age of seven in 169, followed by a young Hadrianus some time after that.

But there were other surviving siblings of Commodus and Lucilla who are not often mentioned in the history books, notably three more sisters: Annia Aurelia Fadilla (c. 159-211), Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor (160-212), and the youngest of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor’s children, Vibia Aurelia Sabina (170-216).

Obviously, infant mortality rates were very high in the ancient world, even for the upper classes. But, in hindsight, when one looks at the number of children Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor had, despite their mortality rates, one has to wonder if the emperor was indeed obsessed with having an blood-heir to the throne, despite the fact that he and his illustrious predecessors came to the throne through adoption.

Before we look at the reign of Commodus, let us first look at the children of Marcus Aurelius who did survive to play a part in the drama that was to unfold after the death of their father in A.D. 180.

Statue of Lucilla in the Bardo Museum, Tunis

Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla (150-182) was the eldest daughter to survive her parents. She was born about eleven years before Commodus. As we know, she was betrothed and wed as a teenager to her father’s co-ruler, Lucius Verus. After Verus passed away from illness, perhaps from the plague his troops had brought back from the East, she was forced to marry Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus, a respected general of her father’s who was quite a bit older than her, having been born in A.D. 125.

Snapshot of family tree of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor (Wikimedia Commons – Nerva/Antonine Dynasty)

Lucilla’s younger sister Annia Aurelia Fadilla (c. 159-211) was born and raised in Rome and was married to Marcus Peducaeus Plautius Quintillus, a senator, consul and augur. He was the nephew of Lucius Verus, but also became one of Commodus’ main advisors.

Fadilla and her family lived in a private palace on the Capitoline Hill, and it was she whom the ancient author, Herodian, says warned Commodus about the snaky freedman, Cleander, and a plot upon the emperor in 189.

But more on plots later…

Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor – sister of Commodus and Lucilla

Another sister of Commodus and Lucilla was Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor (160-112). She was married to an African Roman by the name of Marcus Petronius Sura Mamertinus who was consul in 182. This Faustina Minor and her family may have been with her father, Marcus Aurelius at the time of his death in Germania.

Around 190 or 192, Commodus ordered the deaths of Faustina Minor’s husband, son, and most of her in-laws. So, relations with her brother were strained at best. But, she survived Commodus’ reign, and even had an affair with the short-lived Emperor Pertinax. She lived into her fifties until, in A.D. 212, her death was ordered by Emperor Caracalla. Rather than be executed, this daughter of Marcus Aurelius committed suicide.

Vibia Aurelia Sabina – youngest sister of Commodus and Lucilla (Wikimedia Commons)

The youngest and longest surviving child of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor was Vibia Aurelia Sabina (c. 170-216). She was born in Pannonia and travelled much throughout the empire.

The image we have of young Sabina is of an innocent, kind girl growing up with chaos all around her. Before her father’s death in 180, she was betrothed to an African Roman senator by the name of Lucius Antistius Burrus from near Hippo Regius. They were eventually married in Rome, after which Sabina moved to North Africa with her husband.

Despite a problem with her husband, which we will get into shortly, Sabina went on to marry Lucius Aurelius Agaclytus, a freedman of her father’s who may have foiled a plot against Marcus Aurelius. They had no children, but Sabina became a prominent Italian citizen of Roman North Africa who was well-loved by the Romans and native Berber population. She fared much better than her sisters.

Denarius of Commodus

And what of Commodus, the ruler at the centre of this family of orphan Aurelii?

Well, Commodus comes across as someone who was given too much power far too early, kind of like a child star who hits it big at a young age and then spirals out of control.

At the age of fifteen, in A.D. 177, Commodus became joint ruler with his father and was given the titles of ‘Caesar’, ‘Imperator’ and ‘Augustus’.

Cassius Dio, a contemporary of the period, gives us an account of his character:

This man [Commodus] was not naturally wicked, but, on the contrary, as guileless as any man that ever lived. His great simplicity, however, together with his cowardice, made him the slave of his companions, and it was through them that he at first, out of ignorance, missed the better life and then was led on into lustful and cruel habits, which soon became second nature. And this, I think, Marcus clearly perceived beforehand. Commodus was nineteen years old when his father died, leaving him many guardians, among whom were numbered the best men of the senate. But their suggestions and counsels Commodus rejected, and after making a truce with the barbarians he rushed to Rome; for he hated all exertion and craved the comfortable life of the city.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 1)

At first, Commodus did seem to make an attempt to rule well. He dealt (not personally) with minor problems like a Caledonian breech of the Antonine Wall in 183, and the subsequent mutiny there that was put down by Pertinax. He also organized shipments of agricultural produce from Africa to Rome, and freed the tenants of Roman growers in that province from a sort of servitude.

But these small gestures, it seems, were not enough to dissuade his detractors or would-be assassins.

The Roman Forum (by Becchetti)

Commodus devoted most of his life to ease and to horses and to combats of wild beasts and of men. In fact, besides all that he did in private, he often slew in public large numbers of men and beasts as well. For example, all alone with his own hands, he dispatched five hippopotami together with two elephants on two successive days; and he also killed rhinoceroses and a camelopard. This is what I have to say with reference to his career as a whole. 

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 9) 

And what of his siblings? How did they feel about their emperor/brother?

We already know that Fadilla helped to foil a plot by Cleander against her brother in 189, but not all of Commodus’ sisters were so forgiving of their brother.

The plot we do know of for certain is that of Lucilla’s. Hers was the first plot against Commodus.

In A.D. 182, Lucilla and her cousin, Ummidius Quadratus, a Roman senator, plotted to kill Commodus and place Lucilla’s stepson, Pompeianus (son of her husband, the old general Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus) upon the imperial throne. It is supposed that Lucilla and her stepson may even have been intimately involved.

It must have been the case that Commodus quickly showed himself to be incapable of rule, for Lucilla and her fellow conspirators wasted little time in plotting. However, the assassination attempt was badly botched and the younger Pompeianus and Quadratus were executed, and Lucilla was exiled to the island of Capri where she was later murdered at her brother’s command.

Oddly enough, Lucilla’s husband, the elder Pompeianus, was not punished, even though it was his son she had tried to put on the throne. The general subsequently retired.

The historian, Herodian, describes the failed plot:

He sent out to rule the provinces men who were either his companions in crime or were recommended to him by criminals. He became so detested by the senate that he in his turn was moved with cruel passion for the destruction of that great order, and from having been despised he became bloodthirsty.

Finally the actions of Commodus drove Quadratus and Lucilla, with the support of Tarrutenius

Paternus, the prefect of the guard, to form a plan for his assassination. The task of slaying him was assigned to Claudius Pompeianus, a kinsman. But he, as soon as he had an opportunity to fulfil his mission, strode up to Commodus with a drawn sword, and, bursting out with these words, “This dagger the senate sends thee,” betrayed the plot like a fool, and failed to accomplish the design, in which many others along with himself were implicated. After this fiasco, first Pompeianus and Quadratus were executed, and then Norbana and Norbanus and Paralius; and the latter’s mother and Lucilla were driven into exile.

(Herodian, Historia Augusta, The Life of Commodus, 3-4) 

Lucilla and Commodus in the movie Gladiator

It is not known whether Lucilla had been in touch with her younger sisters about the plot against Commodus. One supposes that they did not know, especially Fadilla, who would save him from Cleander later, or Sabina who was just twelve years old at the time.

What we do know is that after Lucilla’s betrayal, things changed for the worse in Commodus. The failed plot seemed to have ushered in a reign of terror. He became more hostile toward the senate and executed many, including his chief advisor Tigidius Perennis in 185, whom he replaced with Cleander.

Commodus, at this time, also came under the influence his mistress, Marcia, and his chamberlain, Eclectus. He tried to appease the populace by putting on extravagant games and shows, and to ingratiate himself to the troops by increasing their pay. All of this led to a huge financial crisis.

And what did he do to alleviate the situation? He confiscated the property of the rich.

Commodus was good at making enemies.

But his megalomania went even further, for he renamed Rome ‘Colonia Commodiana’ (Commodus’ Colony), and came to believe that he was Hercules incarnate.

Commodus as Hercules

Now this “Golden One”, this “Hercules”, this “god” (for he was even given this name, too) suddenly drove into Rome one afternoon from his suburb and conducted thirty horse-races in the space of two hours. These proceedings had much to do with his running short of funds. He was also fond, it is true, of bestowing gifts, and frequently gave largesses to the populace at the rate of one hundred and forty denarii per man; but most of his expenditures were for the objects I have mentioned. Hence he brought accusations against both men and women, slaying some and to others selling their lives for their property. And finally he ordered us, our wives, and our children each to contribute two gold pieces every year on his birthday as a kind of first-fruits, and commanded the senators in all the other cities to give five denarii apiece. Of this, too, he saved nothing, but spent it all disgracefully on his wild beasts and his gladiators.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 16)

Commodus’ increasing brutality, as well as his neglect of duty, drove other parties to seek his end. In 188 another conspiracy against him came about, but this time it involved the husband of Commodus’ youngest sister, Sabina.

Unbeknownst to Sabina, who was just eighteen years old at the time, Lucius Antistius Burrus plotted with others against Commodus. Details about this plot are lacking, but we do know that it failed and that Burrus was put to death.

Sabina, however, was spared, perhaps because she was not involved in the plot. She remained in North Africa and married Agaclytus to survive the rest of her family until A.D. 217.

The year after Burrus’ plot against Commodus, in 189, there came the plot that was set by Cleander, and foiled by Fadilla and, according to Herodian, another sister, possibly Faustina Minor, whose family had not yet been executed by her brother.

One can imagine the paranoia that must have beset Commodus (and indeed his sisters!) at this time, and how it would have fuelled the fires of his mania.

All plots upon Emperor Commodus had failed to that point, and many people had been executed in the wake of those failures…that is…until the very end of A.D. 192.

On New Year’s Day, in A.D. 193, Commodus was due to present himself to the people of Rome as Consul and Gladiator. He had reached new heights of violence at that point in time, and had become a threat to everyone.

The Emperor Commodus Leaving the Arena at the Head of the Gladiators (by Edwin Howland Blashfield)

Cassius Dio was present at that time, and gives us our most detailed, surviving account of the day and the plot involving many players, including Commodus’ mistress, Marcia, his chamberlain, Eclectus, the Praetorian Prefect, Aemilius Laetus, and a famous athlete by the name of Narcissus:

This fear was shared by all, by us senators as well as by the rest. And here is another thing that he did to us senators which gave us every reason to look for our death. Having killed an ostrich and cut off his head, he came up to where we were sitting, holding the head in his left hand and in his right hand raising aloft his bloody sword; and though he spoke not a word, yet he wagged his head with a grin, indicating that he would treat us in the same way. And many would indeed have perished by the sword on the spot, for laughing at him (for it was laughter rather than indignation that overcame us), if I had not chewed some laurel leaves, which I got from my garland, myself, and persuaded the others who were sitting near me to do the same, so that in the steady movement of our armies we might conceal the fact that we were laughing.

After the events described he raised our spirits. For when he was intending to fight once more as a gladiator, he bade us enter the amphitheatre in the equestrian garb and in our woollen cloaks, a thing that we never do when going to the amphitheatre except when one of the emperors has passed away; and on the last day his helmet was carried out by the gates through which the dead are taken out. These events caused absolutely every one of us to believe that we were surely about to be rid of him.

And he actually did die, or rather was slain, before long. For Laetus and Eclectus, displeased at the things he was doing, and also inspired by fear, in view of the threats he made against them because they tried to prevent him from acting in this way, formed a plot against him. It seems that Commodus wished to slay both the consuls, Erucius Clarus and Sosius Falco, and on New Year’s Day to issue forth both as consul and secutor from the quarters of the gladiators; in fact, he had the first cell there, as if he were one of them. Let no one doubt this statement. Indeed, he actually cut off the head of the Colossus, and substituted for it a likeness of his own head; then, having given it a club and placed a bronze lion at its feet, so as to cause it to look like Hercules, he inscribed on it, in addition to the list of his titles which I have already indicated, these words: “Champion of secutores; only left-handed fighter to conquer twelve times (as I recall the number) one thousand men.”

For these reasons Laetus and Eclectus attacked him, after making Marcia their confidant. At any rate, on the last day of the year, at night, when people were busy with the holiday, they caused Marcia to administer poison to him in some beef. But the immoderate use of wine and baths, which was habitual with him, kept him from succumbing at once, and instead he vomited up some of it; and thus suspecting the truth, he indulged in some threats. Then they sent Narcissus, an athlete, against him, and caused this man to strangle him while he was taking a bath. Such was the end of Commodus, after he had ruled twelve years, nine months, and fourteen days. He had lived thirty-one years and four months; and with him the line of the genuine Aurelii ceased to rule.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 21-22)

Marcus Aurelius and family performing a sacrificium

It is a pathetic end to the rule of the dynasty, and one can’t help but wonder how Commodus’ surviving sisters – Fadilla, Faustina Minor, and Sabina – felt once their brother was gone. Faustina Minor may have felt justice had been done, even if she may not have been involved, for she had lost her family to her brother’s brutality. But Fadilla had saved him previously, and Sabina probably barely knew him. The dangers to the three of them would come later, during the reign of the winning dynasty in the subsequent civil war, the Severan dynasty, and the rule of Caracalla, another son who was not the ruler that his father was.

What was it about imperial fathers and their lesser sons?

Marcus Aurelius, by all accounts was a wise man, and yet, despite having inherited the imperial throne through adoption, he appointed a lesser person as his successor. The same occurred with Septimius Severus when he appointed his two sons Caracalla and Geta to succeed him. Severus even sought to repair the image of Commodus in 195, even going so far as to deify him!

Under Aurelius and Severus, the empire reached great heights, and yet it could hardly have fallen lower under each of their sons.

But such is the world of family and politics in ancient Rome. It doesn’t always make sense to us today, but it certainly is fascinating and entertaining.

We do hope you’ve enjoyed The World of The Dragon: Genesis blog series.

If you’ve missed any of the posts in this seven-part series, you can read them all together HERE.

If you have not already downloaded your FREE COPY of The Dragon: Genesis, you can do so by CLICKING HERE. 

Lastly, if you have read the book, please consider leaving a small review or comment at the bottom of the page HERE.

Eagles and Dragons Publishing will be taking a short summer break but will be returning in a few weeks with more posts about history and some exciting, highly-anticipated releases.

Stay tuned… Happy Summer, and thank you for reading.

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Roman Ghosts – Roots of Death and the Imperial Spectre

Salvete, History-lovers!

It’s been several months now since our last Roman Ghosts blog post and, seeing as we are in the dark days of winter, I thought it was a good time for a new one that you can read by the light of a warm fire.

If you missed the previous post about the ghostly accounts of Pliny the Younger, you can read it by CLICKING HERE.

Guess who!

I was doing some research on ghost sightings in the city of Rome when I came across this fascinating story about the only known haunting by a Roman emperor.

Who was this purple-robed spectre?

Why, it was none other than Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, otherwise known as Emperor Nero (A.D. 54-68).

There are numerous stories and much gossip about Emperor Nero, the last of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. It is said he believed he was an actor and artist, more than anything else. He allegedly fiddled his way through the burning of Rome, and subsequently blamed the Christian community for doing it. His torture of the Christians after that has become the stuff of horrible legend.

Another of the labels applied to this young megalomaniac was that of a ‘matricide’, for Nero was supposed to have made three attempts on the life of his overbearing mother, Agrippina the Younger. He tried drowning her, and crushing her in a planned ‘accident’, and when neither of those worked, he had his men slay her.

Emperor Nero and Agrippina the Younger. Is she fixing his corona for him? Oh, Mother!

However, when the deed was done, Nero was haunted by the ghost of his mother for the rest of his days, so much so that he supposedly engaged the services of magicians and necromancers to help rid him of the Furies he believed to be harassing him, and to conjure the ghost of his mother so that he could ask her to leave him alone.

I guess it never was easy for a young Roman man to be completely rid of his mother!

Needless to say, Emperor Nero was a tortured soul.

But we are not here to determine whether the rumours about Nero were true or not. We are here to talk about the story of what happened after his death.

It seems that after he departed the mortal world, the shade of Nero lingered in Rome, and his is the only known imperial ghost on record.

Antiquarian print of Nero’s tomb after it was dug up.

You see, after his suicide, Nero was buried in the tomb of the Domitii Ahenobarbi, the family tomb at the foot of the Pincian hill. This was located near a grove of poplar trees in what is now the Borghese Gardens near Piazza del Popolo.

Legend has it that in the place where the tomb of Nero was located, adjacent to the Porta Flaminia, a sort of nut tree sprouted, and this tree was filled with black crows.

It was said that about the tree, or in it, Emperor Nero’s ghost continued his lavish feasts, except now he dined alongside demons and witches!

Over the centuries, Romans living in the area of the Pincian hill, near the Porta Flaminia, reported feelings of terror, possessions, beatings and injuries, inexplicable strangulations and killings. Hundreds of years later, in 1099, Nero’s ghost and his wicked dinner companions were still bothering the living.

Frightened Romans complained to Pope Pasquale II about the spectre and the terrible goings on around the tree at the foot of the Pincian hill. The pope stepped up and performed an exorcism in the area which ended with him striking the tree itself. When the pope did this, a series of loud screams apparently rent the air.

Pasquale II ordered the tree torn down then, and when it was removed, they found Nero’s tomb buried beneath it, among the tangled roots. The pope ordered the tomb and its contents to be thrown into the Tiber, and ordered a church built on the site, the altar of which was placed overtop of the spot where the tree had been.

Chiesa de Santa Maria di Popolo, built on the site of Nero’s tomb.

In 1475, Pope Sixtus IV enlarged the church that Pasquale built, and it was re-consecrated as the Chiesa de Santa Maria di Popolo.

Apparently, the hauntings of Nero did stop after the original chapel was built in 1099, however, it is said that some people still report supernatural activity there.

Who knows for certain…

What we can be pretty sure of, if one believes in such things, is that in a city as ancient and populated as Rome, there were plenty of ghosts to go around. But there was only one imperial ghost…the ghost of Nero!

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Caligula – From Little Boots to Maniacal Monster

Caligula…

The name conjures images, doesn’t it? Oh yes – more so than Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, the full name of the Roman emperor we know as Caligula.

Caligula definitely has more power, largely due to the stories behind the name, stories of extreme debauchery, sadism, insanity and horror.

John Hurt as Caligula in I Claudius

You might envisage John Hurt in the television drama of Robert Graves’ I Claudius, his mouth bloody after eating the baby which he had put in his sister’s belly, believing himself to be the god, Jove.

Or, perhaps more disturbingly, the image of Malcolm McDowell cavorts into your thoughts amid flashes of naked bodies and the bloody bits and pieces of Caligula’s victims in the infamous, star-clad film originally scripted by Gore Vidal, Caligula.

These are the images that we have of Caligula today. They’re built on ancient sources and popular culture that described the reign of this most disturbing of Roman emperors.

Malcolm McDowell as Caligula

But is the portrayal of Caligula as an insane, perverted, and brutal emperor accurate? Is it fair?

Caligula had an interesting life as a boy. He was with his father, the Roman hero Germanicus, and the army along the northern frontier camps. Among the men of the Legions, it’s said, he got his nickname. ‘Caligula’ is a diminutive version of the word for military, hobnailed boots called caligae. He became ‘Little Boots’ because of the smaller pair of caligae he wore around the camp.

Was Caligula a cute little boy? Odd to think after all the rumours. The troops seemed to have adopted him.

His life took a turn for the worst though, leaving him one of the sole survivors of his family.

The Death of Germanicus (Nicholas Poussin, 1627)

There were rumours that Tiberius or Livia, Augustus’ empress, may have been responsible, more or less, for killing Caligula’s family, including his hero father, Germanicus. However, most now seem to agree that this was unlikely, that it was due to natural causes in the East. Another rumour was that Germanicus was poisoned by Gnaeus Piso, who was put on trial for it.

Either way, ‘Little Boots’ ended up spending a lot of time with his great uncle, Tiberius, on the island of Capri. This island is where the Emperor retreated in his advanced years, and it’s rumoured that much depravity took place there, and that Caligula learned that behaviour.

Roman Caligae

Oddly enough, the first six months of Caligula’s reign as emperor were said to be good and moderate. He fell seriously ill around that time, however, and afterward the chroniclers speak of a young man who believed himself divine, and who became the most cruel, extravagant and perverse of tyrants. Did the illness alter his mind in some way? We may never know.

I’m not an expert on the reign of Caligula and, in fact, it seems that few people are.

Caligula

Caligula’s reign as Roman emperor is one of the most poorly documented in Roman history.

Since that is the case, it seems understandable that countless generations would cling to the tales told by Suetonius so many years after Caligula’s death: that he had sex with his sister on a regular basis, that he made his horse a consul, and that he forced senators’ wives to have sex.

If you can make it up, it probably fits the historical and pop-culture bill when it comes to Caligula.

The other side of the argument says that all of the salacious tales were invented, pure fabrications created by Caligula’s, and the Julio-Claudian’s, enemies.

Villa Jovis on the Island of Capri, where Caligula spent time with his uncle, Tiberius

Perhaps. But must not there be some basis in fact?

Certainly, the senatorial and Praetorian conspirators behind the assassination of Caligula (he was the first emperor to be assassinated) needed to justify their actions.

Some believe that Caligula had tried very hard to increase the power of the Emperor and further minimize the Senate. This would make him a lot of enemies – enemies who would write the history of his reign long after his death.

There is real power in writing after the fact – which is why we must approach any source, modern or historical, with a degree of caution.

Even our views of the most famous and popular (even well-documented) figures of history can be flawed. History is written by the victors, or at the least by the survivors. Everyone, especially emperors, had enemies, even if they were ‘good’ or ‘bad’ rulers.

Reconstruction of Tiberius’ Villa Jovis on Island of Capri (Weichardt, 1900)

Popular media, such as film and fiction, can reveal to us certain aspects of historical people, but we must take everything with a grain of salt. We have to accept that what we are reading or seeing might be based on subjective sources that had a particular goal in mind.

However, learning how a generation of people viewed a particular person (even though the stories may not be true) can also be useful. Their hatred, love or fear etc. must have come from somewhere!

Was Caligula as mad as they say or as we believe? Perhaps.

His depravity has made some good storytelling over the centuries. I suspect that some of it is true. But, like all good stories, things have been elaborated on for sheer entertainment value, especially when the man himself was safely dead.

I highly recommend Robert Graves’ I Claudius if you have not already read it. It’s a modern classic, as is its television dramatization starring John Hurt and Derek Jacobi. It’s a wonderful piece of fiction, if not entirely accurate.

On the other hand, if you have the stomach and libido for it, the film version of Caligula is a terror-filled, pornographic representation of Caligula that brings all of the most salacious tales of him to life. A warning: this film is not for the faint of heart.

Caligula’s Palace and Bridge, by Turner

But let’s get back to an original source…

We should end with a quote from Suetonius who seems to be one of the main sources of all the tall tales that have been passed down the ages:

“…he (Caligula) could not control his natural cruelty and viciousness, but he was a most eager witness of the tortures and executions of those who suffered punishment, revelling at night in gluttony and adultery, disguised in a wig and a long robe, passionately devoted besides to the theatrical arts of dancing and singing, in which Tiberius very willingly indulged him, in the hope that through these his savage nature might be softened. This last was so clearly evident to the shrewd old man, that he used to say now and then that to allow Gaius to live would prove the ruin of himself and of all men, and that he was rearing a viper for the Roman people and a Phaethon for the world.” (Caius Suetonius Tranquillus; Lives of the Twelve Caesars)

As I said, history is written by the survivors, and as it is, history remembers Caligula as a sadistic, incestuous maniac who thought he was a god, who made his horse a senator, cared nothing for the power of the senate, and went to war against the god Neptune. The damning list goes on and on…

On the other hand, he undertook several public building projects and expanded the Empire’s borders in North Africa.

But, in the end, Caligula was murdered by the Praetorians who immediately made Claudius the next emperor.

Will we ever know the true nature of Caligula?

Probably not, but this certainly is an instance in which the history, true or not, is highly entertaining and shocking.

Thank you for reading.

Emperor Claudius – (Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, 1871) – with the murdered Emperor Caligula on the floor at Claudius’ feet

What are your thoughts on Emperor Caligula? Was he as vile as portrayed? Or was he the victim of malicious gossip?

For those of you who want to read a bit more, check out this interesting article on the BBC website by CLICKING HERE.

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