Caligula: A Biography

by Aloys Winterling

  Josephus provides one further piece of information, although he does not pursue its implications: Callistus, whom he depicts as Caligula’s most powerful and universally feared adviser, not only participated in the conspiracy because he feared for his own life; he even attached himself to Claudius, “secretly going over to his side because he expected that in the event of Gaius’s death the Empire would pass to him and that by laying up beforehand a store of favor and credit for his kindness he would have a basis for preferment and strength similar to what he now enjoyed” (Jos. Ant. 19.66). Callistus also claimed, according to Josephus, that he had been ordered by Caligula to poison Claudius but had found various excuses to delay. Josephus—almost certainly correctly—considers it unlikely that Callistus would have disobeyed such an order, but it does not occur to him that Callistus might nevertheless have claimed to Claudius that the order had been given.

  A look at what happened after the murder rounds out the picture. Soldiers of the Praetorian Guard sought out Claudius, escorted him to their barracks, and proclaimed him emperor. Claudius immediately named Rufrius Pollio as new Praetorian prefect, removing from office the two men who had participated in the conspiracy. After the Senate recognized him as emperor the following day, one of his first acts was to get rid of Caligula’s assassins. Chaerea was executed and Sabinus took his own life. Not long afterwards the two most important figures close to Caligula after Callistus, Protogenes and Helicon, were killed as well. And what about Callistus himself?

  We know that Callistus remained a central figure under Claudius. In the Annals of Tacitus, which begin again in A.D. 47, as well as in the accounts of Suetonius and Cassius Dio, he is a powerful secretary a libellis, dealing with petitions to the emperor; he and two other freedmen—Narcissus and Pallas, who were responsible for correspondence and finances—“divided the power among themselves” (Dio 61[60].30.6b). Tacitus refers to Callistus’s role in the assassination of Caligula, and characterizes him as someone who “had expert knowledge of the last court . . . and believed power to be held more securely by cautious than by vigorous counsels” (Tac. Ann. 11.29.2). The three men successfully deposed the empress Messalina in 48 and deliberated afterwards on who should succeed her; Callistus argued for Lollia Paulina, the former wife of Caligula. He was unable to prevent Agrippina, Caligula’s sister, from becoming empress, but he did manage something very rare for people at the center of power in those days, emperors and empresses included: He died a natural death, about ten years after Caligula was murdered.

  Back to January 41. No valiant senators eliminated the hated emperor. They had to leave the deed to Caligula’s right-hand man, a former slave with power “no less than a tyrant’s.” The evidence suggests that events ran as follows: Callistus made use of his final option in order to save his own skin. An assassination of Caligula did not suffice by itself. It was necessary besides for a successor to be installed who was thereafter beholden. And the freedman could not have anything to do with the murder itself. No new emperor would have left his predecessor’s killer unpunished, as that would set a dangerous precedent for his own security. The two Praetorian prefects must have accepted this option, although it was even more dangerous for them. Merely knowing of the assassination and doing nothing about it would mean a violation of the oath they had sworn to protect the emperor’s life, and no successor could possibly have retained them in the positions they occupied. It can no longer be established what precise role they played, whether they failed to recognize the danger that a change of ruler represented for their own position, or whether it seemed a lesser threat than what they feared would happen if Caligula remained. They may have counted on a possible outcome that was in fact what actually happened: They were removed from office, but remained unharmed because they had helped to elevate the new emperor to the throne.

  Choosing a successor was not a difficult task. The brother of Germanicus, Caligula’s uncle, was the obvious candidate in dynastic terms and appeared harmless as well. The only task remaining was to find an assassin, someone either too dim to realize that he was letting himself in for certain death no matter how the attempt turned out, or else so motivated that he did not care.

  The Praetorian tribune Cassius Chaerea is portrayed by Josephus as a kind of Roman hero of the old school, not only willing but eager to liberate Rome from the tyrant even if it cost him his life. Dio writes, however, that he was very old-fashioned and also had a personal motive for the murder. Supposedly Caligula had regularly made him the butt of jokes, teasing him as weak and unmanly; when he asked for the password of the day, Caligula would choose a word such as Priapus or Venus. Josephus provides further background information that depreciates the tribune’s allegedly noble motives. He reports that Caligula had given Chaerea the distasteful task of collecting taxes, including demanding late payments, an assignment that no doubt made him unpopular. When he didn’t perform it to the emperor’s satisfaction, says Josephus, Caligula accused him of cowardice and insufficient manliness and began making jokes at his expense. “Even his fellow tribunes made fun of him; whenever he was to bring them the password from Caesar, they would mention beforehand one of the words that lend themselves to jests.” Lastly the emperor “employed Chaerea in cases of murder and any others that called for torture, because he calculated that Chaerea’s performance would be more cruel, since he would not want to be abused as a weakling” (Jos. Ant. 19.31, 19.34).

  In other words, Chaerea was the man who did Caligula’s dirty work. The emperor took advantage of his weaknesses and abused him for his own ends. Now Chaerea came under pressure from another direction. When Pomponius had been charged with crimes and the tribune had tortured Quintilia so brutally that even the emperor was overcome by pity, “these things grievously distressed Chaerea, for he had been, so far as it was in his power, a source of misery to persons who were considered even by Gaius to be deserving of consolation” (Jos. Ant. 19.37). Trying to demonstrate his masculinity when he was torturing a woman, he had proved himself to be more ruthless than the emperor; he could no longer excuse his actions by saying that he was merely carrying out Caligula’s orders. It was this ill-omened situation that made Chaerea dare to bring up the subject of murdering the emperor, in a discussion with the Praetorian prefect Clemens and another tribune named Papinius. In addition to the unselfish motive of striking a blow for freedom Chaerea mentioned further arguments in favor of assassination, including the unsavory role they themselves played in the fate of Caligula’ victims: “We pollute ourselves with shedding their blood and torturing them daily, up to the moment, mark you, when someone as Gaius’s agent will do the same to us. For he will not favor us in his policy on account of these services, but will rather be governed by suspicion, especially when the number of the slain has increased . . . There we shall be, set up before him as targets, when we ought to be upholding the security and independence of all the people” (Jos. Ant. 19.42–43).

  It is hardly likely that the Roman author whom Josephus is following here had a copy of Chaerea’s speech at hand, and his reference to “daily” incidents of torture is a gross exaggeration. Nevertheless Josephus’s assessment of the situation appears relatively accurate, precisely because it runs counter to his positive depiction of the conspirators. Fear had now gripped even the officers of the Praetorian Guard. The functionaries of power, the men responsible for torture and executions—led by Chaerea, the target of jokes about his lack of manliness—began to fear the emperor whose orders they carried out and to be concerned about their own fate. All the pieces of the plot had come together now, but obviously nothing had yet been decided.

  Cassius Chaerea could hardly wait for it. Since he spent time in Caligula’s presence, he saw many opportunities to kill him but people kept putting him off with flimsy excuses. The prefect Clemens told him that they would have to wait and hope for an opportune moment. Chaerea feared that the prefect might betray the plot and took Cornelius Sabinus into his confidence. He was willing to participate an
d strengthened Chaerea’s resolve. All the same nothing happened, and the whole matter was delayed still further. Chaerea grew angry, reproached the others, and argued that they might miss the most favorable occasion. Although he had opportunities to strike every day, he did as he was told and held back. He was the sort of man who carried out orders, and that is what he did here. Finally the word came down that a favorable opportunity would be the theatrical performances in honor of Augustus scheduled for 21 to 24 January on the Palatine Hill. When the emperor entered the building that had been specially constructed for the plays, it would be easy to attack him.

  What did that mean? Thousands of people would be assembled there, including the leading senators with their wives and children; naturally members of the Praetorian Guard and the emperor’s Germanic bodyguards would be there, too. Attempting to assassinate the emperor in this setting entailed incalculable risks, as events would show. An attack at a banquet would have been far easier to manage, or even Chaerea’s suggestion that Caligula be pitched off the palace roof when he was throwing money to the people. All this suggests that the prefects and Callistus, who was known for his caution, had not reached a final decision, or that the preparations for a smooth transition were not yet complete. But time was growing short. The emperor’s departure for Alexandria was set for 25 January. Chaerea and Sabinus were kept waiting for three more days and finally given the go-ahead for 24 January.

  The theater seems to have been located in the Area Palatina, a site on the hillside above the Forum. It had one exit into the city and one into the imperial palace. After the audience had been admitted and found their way through the crowd to their seats Caligula performed an animal sacrifice in honor of Augustus. Then he took his own seat, surrounded by the highest-ranking senators in his retinue, and gave orders for expensive sweets to be thrown to the spectators. On the program were a pantomime in which the leader of a band of robbers was nailed to a cross, and the tragedy of Cinyras and Myrrha. Both plays called for a good deal of imitation blood to flow on the stage. Shortly before one in the afternoon Caligula could not decide whether to stay till the end—since it was the last day of the performances—or to leave as usual for a bath and a meal and return later.

  Chaerea, who was in readiness at the palace with the other officers participating in the conspiracy, could hardly endure the wait. He had already made up his mind that he would go into the theater and strike Caligula where he was sitting—meaning that he was prepared for the inevitable bloodbath among the senators and knights in the audience—when word suddenly came that Caligula and his entourage were entering the palace. Claudius, Marcus Vinicius, and Valerius Asiaticus were at the front of the group, followed by Caligula himself and Paullus Arruntius. On the pretext that the emperor wanted a moment of peace and quiet, the plotters kept the rest of his retinue from following. While Claudius and the two others proceeded along a main corridor lined with servants, Caligula, now flanked by Chaerea and Sabinus, turned into a side passage. It led to a room where Greek boys, sons of noble families, were rehearsing a performance to be given in his honor.

  Different versions of the murder are reported. Suetonius offers two. As the emperor was speaking to the boys Chaerea, who was standing behind him, swung his sword with full force and hit him in the neck; then Sabinus stabbed him in the chest. The other version relates that Sabinus asked Caligula for the password and split his jaw as he turned around. As the emperor lay on the ground writhing in pain and shouting that he was still alive, all the other conspirators rushed forward and killed him with thirty further blows. In Josephus’s account the “freedom fighter” Chaerea comes off somewhat better: Instead of attacking the emperor from behind he came at him in full view and struck a deep but not fatal wound. His sword pierced Caligula between the neck and shoulder and was stopped by his collarbone. Caligula neither shouted nor called for help, but only let out a loud groan and tried to flee. Then all the others fell on him with their swords. According to Seneca, Chaerea managed to decapitate the emperor with one blow, but many of the conspirators surrounded the emperor and thrust their swords into the corpse anyway.

  Immediately following the murder Chaerea sent a tribune named Lupus to kill Caesonia and Drusilla, the emperor’s young daughter. Reports say that the empress faced the blow courageously, and that the little girl was dashed against a wall. Then Chaerea and Sabinus, fearful of what would follow, fled into the interior of the palace complex and from there, by a different route, into the city.

  Caligula was dead, but his power lasted for another few hours. The first to appear were his litter bearers, followed by members of his Germanic bodyguard. They seized several of the assassins and killed them on the spot, and also made short work of three senators who happened to be in the vicinity and fell into their hands. The bodyguards and Praetorian guardsmen went off in search of the other assassins, combing the corridors and rooms of the palace. In the theater spectators were horrified as news of what had happened spread. Rumors were rife: The emperor was wounded but not dead, and was receiving medical aid. Despite his wounds he had gone to the Forum, covered in blood, and was addressing the people. He wasn’t dead at all, but had merely spread the rumor in order to test people’s reactions. The senators who were hoping that the news was correct felt stunned and unable to move from their seats, but none of the others dared to stand up and leave the theater either, for fear that their action would be misinterpreted. Finally Germanic bodyguards who still hoped that the emperor was alive surrounded the theater with swords drawn. They placed the decapitated heads of the three dead senators on the sacrificial altar where everyone could see them. Now fear of death seized everyone. Some rushed toward the soldiers and fell on their knees, pleading that they had known nothing about an assassination attempt, if one had actually occurred. The soldiers should leave them in peace and go look for the people who were responsible for the outrage. “And so,” writes Josephus, “even those who hated Gaius heartily and with justice were left with no chance to rejoice at his death, because they were on tenterhooks for fear of perishing with him . . .” (Jos. Ant. 19.144).

  Imminent bloodbath was prevented by a well-known, wealthy auctioneer named Arruntius Euaristus. He entered the theater—at whose behest is not reported—in mourning attire and announced the death of Caligula in a loud voice. That put an end to the uproar among the Germani, since there was no emperor left for them to defend. With much pushing and shoving the theater emptied out.

  Now Rome was without a ruler. At first the situation appeared to be in flux, but that impression was rapidly contradicted. Caligula belonged to the past, but the experiences and structures he left behind continued to determine behavior. The aroused populace streamed to the Forum, where popular assemblies took place, vigorously demanding that the murderers be punished. Despite the recent conflicts Caligula’s popularity with the common people of Rome had remained intact. The senators attempted to take advantage of this favorable moment. The consuls called a session of the Senate in the Capitol and gave instructions for the contents of the emperor’s treasury to be carried there immediately. The cohortes urbanae, who functioned as the city’s police force, obeyed their orders and took up positions around the Capitol and Forum. In an agitated debate the senators fought over the future of Rome. Voices were raised calling for the end of imperial rule and the restoration of “freedom,” meaning rule by the Senate in the style of the late Republic. Some senators even wanted to expunge the memory of all previous emperors and to destroy their temples. One of these was the consul Sentius Saturninus, who delivered a stirring speech. He portrayed Caligula as the culminating figure in a despotism that had been expanding since the days of Julius Caesar, declaring that imperial rule was tyranny and replaced freedom and law with the arbitrary will of an individual. He also recognized the senators’ own role in all this, however: “This tyranny was fostered by nothing but indolence and our failure to speak in opposition to any of its wishes. We have succumbed to the seduction of peace and have lea
rned to live like conquered prisoners. Whether we have suffered incurable disasters ourselves or have only observed the calamities of our neighbors, it is because we are afraid to die like brave men that we must endure being slain with the utmost degradation” (Jos. Ant. 19.180–81).

  Saturninus had in fact been conspicuous for his servility to the emperor, since otherwise he would hardly have been serving as consul at the time. Josephus reports that after this speech another senator leaped to his feet and pulled from Saturninus’s finger a ring with a likeness of Caligula on it, which identified him as a man in particularly high favor with the tyrant who had just been murdered. The rhetoric of freedom could little avail against the existing structures of power and modes of behavior that directed even the action of senators. In reality ambiguous communication within the aristocracy, which Caligula through his cynical behavior had allowed to run out, celebrated a joyous resurrection, and the debate was actually about who would become the new emperor. Three aspirants are mentioned by name. All three came from the group of senators who had maintained close contact with Caligula to the very end and who would also number among the favorites during Claudius’s rule. Valerius Asiaticus’s ambitions to succeed to the throne were thwarted by Annius Vinicianus, who had the same end in view for himself and tried to achieve it a year later: He was one of two central figures in the first great conspiracy against Claudius. The third aspirant was Marcus Vinicius, Caligula’s brother-in-law. His move was blocked by the two consuls, Saturninus and Pomponius, who according to Dio had kissed Caligula’s feet at a banquet only the day before. Presumably Saturninus’s speech on freedom was aimed to position him as a possible candidate for emperor. The Senate debate encapsulates the paradox of the era, which had dominated Caligula’s brief reign and that he had set himself against in a new fashion: No one wanted an emperorship, but everyone wanted to be emperor.