The accusations of several ancient historians that Livia poisoned those who stood in the way of her own sons are probably just so much axe-grinding. That said, she clearly influenced her husband, and no doubt pushed him in his choice of Tiberius as his eventual heir.
That is not to say that her hands were clean of all wrongdoing.
Once Octavian (by then called Augustus) was dead, Livia covered up the news of his death, issuing proclamations in his name and sealing up the house where he’d died so that no one got in or out without her consent. This gave Tiberius time to get to Augustus’s bedside, and by extension, to consolidate his power. It is probable that Livia ordered the murder of Augustus’s only living grandson, Agrippa Postumus, without Tiberius’s consent.
While Livia lived to see her son succeed her husband as emperor, it’s anybody’s guess how much she actually enjoyed his reign. Tiberius avoided seeing or communicating with his mother at all costs pretty much for the rest of her life. When she died in A.D. 29, a very old woman of eighty-six, he skipped her funeral and refused to honor the provisions of her will.
Cold-Blooded Mama Bastard
Roman aristocrats could be a cold-blooded lot, and frequently had completely unsentimental attitudes toward divorce. One person might marry and divorce several times over, with these marriages largely seen as property matters, rather than love matches. Livia seems to have been involved in relationships for both sentimental and unsentimental reasons. She hitched her wagon to Octavian’s star when she was still in her teens, beginning an affair with him while she was still married to her first husband (and pregnant with their second child, Drusus).She divorced said husband (a much older man who was on the wrong side of the political conflict between Octavian and the murderers of Julius Caesar) while still pregnant with Drusus. And she quickly married Octavian, again while still pregnant with the same baby!
44
TIBERIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS
Bastard as the Grumpy Old Man Who Lives on Your Street
(42 B.C.– A.D. 37)
[Tiberius] ordered the death of all who were lying in prison under accusation of complicity with Sejanus. There lay, singly or in heaps, the unnumbered dead, of every age and sex, the illustrious with the obscure. . . . The force of terror had utterly extinguished the sense of human fellowship, and with the growth of cruelty, pity was thrust aside.
—Tacitus, The Annals
Rome’s second emperor was a reluctant bastard if ever there was one. A proven military man and philosopher who vastly preferred books to politics, Tiberius succeeded his stepfather Augustus (Octavian) pretty much because he was the only heir left standing when Augustus died in A.D. 14, after more than fifty years of running the Roman state.
By the time the throne was thrust upon him by Augustus’s death, Tiberius seems to have resigned himself to the job, and for a while proved an able, if unspectacular, ruler. But he was in his mid-fifties by the time he became emperor, and never possessed the common touch; the Roman people didn’t much like him, and he seems to have reciprocated that lack of affection. He relied more and more on his right-hand man, the praetorian prefect Sejanus—a bastard with ideas of his own when it came to the imperial throne.
In A.D. 31, Tiberius got wind of Sejanus’s plotting to take the throne from him. He tricked his unsuspecting praetorian prefect into coming to the Senate House without his usual praetorian escort, then had him seized and executed. But Tiberius didn’t stop there: he began a bloody purge of not just Sejanus’s followers, but of every member of his family and all of his friends—basically everyone who knew him. Tiberius even had his own daughter-in-law killed when it was revealed that she had helped Sejanus poison her husband years earlier.
In the end, though, he was only forestalling the inevitable. On his deathbed, when the seventy-seven-year-old emperor rallied and asked for something to eat, Sejanus’s successor (and executioner) Macro took a pillow and smothered the old man to make way for his young heir, that nutty bastard Caligula.
Mama’s Bastard
The ultimate stage mother, Tiberius’s mother Livia spared no effort manipulating her husband (Tiberius’s stepfather Augustus) into favoring her sons by her first marriage in his succession plans, since Augustus had no sons of his own. Rumor had it that when Augustus finally kicked off himself, it was because Livia had poisoned him to get him out of the way before he changed his mind about handing off his position and his vast fortune to his gloomy stepson!
45
LUCIUS AELIUS SEJANUS
Clearing the Way for a Monster
(20 B.C.– A.D. 31)
A blend of arrogance and servility, [Sejanus] concealed behind a carefully modest exterior an unbounded lust for power. Sometimes this impelled him to lavish excesses, but more often to incessant work. And that is as damaging as excess when the throne is its aim.
—Tacitus, The Annals of Imperial Rome
Shades of The Godfather! Great man conflicted about ruling a powerful family enterprise, weighed down in his old age by the assorted stresses of running said enterprise. Along comes a powerful, charismatic, innovative younger guy, ambitious, not afraid to make himself useful, all the while plotting his own eventual takeover.
That’s the story of the Roman emperor Tiberius and the helpful younger man angling to be his heir-apparent, Lucius Aelius Sejanus.
Sejanus seduced the wife of Tiberius’s son and heir, used her to help get that son and heir out of the way, got himself betrothed to his mistress once she became the dead son’s widow, and for several years was de facto ruler of the Roman Empire.
The historian Tacitus writes that Sejanus, a commoner, nursed a private ambition to become emperor once he’d been made praetorian prefect in A.D. 14, but “Sejanus’ ambitions were impeded by the well-stocked imperial house, including a son and heir—in his prime—and grown-up grandchildren.” So Sejanus set about knocking off these heirs, starting with Tiberius’s grown son-and-heir-to-the-throne, Drusus. This he accomplished by seducing Drusus’s none-too-bright wife, then getting her to help him poison her husband. When Drusus died of a sudden “illness” in A.D. 23, no one seems to have suspected a thing.
Sejanus became de facto ruler of the Roman Empire, running things in the name of Tiberius. He slowly got other heirs out of the way. In A.D. 29, Agrippina, widow of Tiberius’s nephew Germanicus, and her sons Drusus (yes, yet another Drusus) and Nero (no, not that Nero) were sent into exile on charges made by Sejanus that they were plotting against Tiberius. Agrippina wound up starving herself to death, whereas Drusus was forced to commit suicide. Nero’s end was particularly gruesome. Starved to death himself, he was apparently at one point so crazed with hunger that he attempted to eat his own mattress!
In the end, all of Sejanus’s plotting came to naught, because Tiberius’s aunt Antonia sent the emperor a letter accusing Sejanus of attempting to usurp the throne. With that single string pulled, the entire carefully constructed plot began to unravel. Sejanus was taken by surprise in the Senate House, arrested, condemned, and in short order strangled, then had his corpse thrown down the Gemonian Steps, where an angry mob tore it to pieces.
The major unintended consequence of Sejanus’s plot was that by getting rid of Drusus and Nero, he, more than any other individual, was responsible for clearing the way for their younger brother, that nutty bastard Caligula, to succeed Tiberius as emperor.
Bastard Mentor/Mentee
Tiberius, who had stayed alive and grown old in the imperial succession in part because he trusted no one, was by all accounts completely taken in by Sejanus, at one point describing him to the senate as “the partner of my labors.”
46
CALIGULA
You Call That Nag a Roman Consul?
( A.D. 12–41)
The method of execution [Caligula] preferred was to inflict numerous small wounds; and his familiar order: ‘Make him feel that he is dying!’ soon became proverbial.
—Suetonius, gossipy Roman historian
; These days, Roman-emperor-as-lunatic seems nothing short of a cliché. Colorful examples of this archetype include Nero (who fancied himself an athlete and entertainer), Commodus (who walked around dressed up like Hercules), and Elagabalus (a cross-dresser who “married” one of his slave charioteers).
But the granddaddy of them all, the one who originated the whole “mad emperor” meme, was a man who married his second wife by interrupting her marriage to another man and stepping into the bridegroom’s place, who insisted on being worshipped as a god while still alive, who threatened to make his favorite racehorse by turns either a senator or a consul, and who collected seashells along the coast of the English Channel as a symbol of his “great victory” over the sea god Neptune!
Ladies and gentlemen, meet Rome’s third emperor, Gaius, better known these days as Caligula.
While there’s no question that Caligula was one of Rome’s most unforgettable bastards, it’s tough to say for sure whether he was out-and-out crazy, or just a really vindictive bastard with a warped sense of humor, twisted by the difficult years that preceded his taking the throne at age twenty-five.
His father died when he was only seven. His mother (a vicious harpy known as Agrippina) and two of his elder brothers were executed on Tiberius’s orders when Caligula was still in his teens. Following these executions, Caligula began to blatantly suck up to his great-uncle, so impressing the old goat with his apparent indifference to the deaths of those closest to him that Tiberius made Caligula his heir, joking on more than one occasion that he “was rearing a viper for the Roman people.”
His words turned out to be prophetic.
After a promising start on his ascension to the throne in A.D. 41 , Caligula was struck by a strange illness that nearly killed him. He was never the same after that, behaving in an increasingly odd manner, especially with his three younger sisters (with whom he was later alleged to have committed incest). When his favorite sister Drusilla died suddenly, Caligula was beside himself with grief. Tongues began to wag.
The emperor responded to this gossip by becoming ever more bloodthirsty. Sensitive about his premature baldness, he was known on several occasions to order the executions of anyone mentioning his hair, or even of standing anywhere above him, where they might actually be able to see his solar sex panel for themselves.
Coupled with his insistence that he was a god, and ought to be addressed as such, and that he and the moon were siblings, his lavish spending, and the ever-more-bloodthirsty manner in which he suppressed real and imagined plots against his life, it’s small wonder that someone eventually succeeded in killing the bastard in A.D. 41. He was not yet thirty years old.
A Bastard by Any Nickname
The word “Caligula” in Latin means “Little Boots.” Gaius earned this nickname living in a frontier army camp with his father, a popular general named Germanicus. While still a small boy, the future emperor wore miniature versions of the standard-issue hobnailed, open-toed boots (not your ordinary sandals!) worn by Roman infantry. This type of boot was called a caliga; hence the little boy’s nickname.
47
CLAUDIUS
When Is a Consul Like a Stone?
(10 B.C.– A.D. 54)
No suspicion was too trivial, nor the inspirer of it too insignificant, to drive [Claudius] on to precaution and vengeance, once a slight uneasiness entered his mind. One of two parties to a suit, when he made his morning call, took Claudius aside, and said that he had dreamed that he was murdered by someone; then a little later pretending to recognize the assassin, he pointed out his opponent . . . . The latter was immediately seized, as if caught red-handed, and hurried off to execution.
—Suetonius, The Life of Claudius
Dismissed early on as a stammering boob with the intellect of a potted plant, the Roman emperor Claudius had the last laugh on those who overlooked him while killing off most of his adult male relatives. When his nephew Caligula was murdered in A.D. 41, the same guards who had killed him put Claudius on the throne.
What these praetorians got for their trouble was a straight-up bribe: 15,000 sesterces (small silver pieces) per man. What the Roman people got for theirs was rather more a mixed bag.
Claudius demonstrated surprising ability and shrewdness when it came to administering his empire, and under him Roman troops finally conquered part of the island of Britain (something his ancestor Julius Caesar had attempted, but had never been able to accomplish). This was due in large part to his trusting in imperial freedmen to run his empire for him.
Having witnessed political murder after political murder during his lifetime, Claudius was terrified of being assassinated. And not without reason: within a year of his taking the throne, one of his provincial governors rebelled against him (the rebellion was stamped out within a week). His first wife, Messalina, attempted a palace coup while he was out of Rome on religious business, conducting a sham marriage with a lover. He flew into a rage (he possessed a terrible temper) and had them both seized and executed.
In the end, Claudius’s fear of assassination proved prophetic. The emperor who once drunkenly remarked that “it was his destiny first to suffer and finally to punish the infamy of his wives” was undone by his own terrible taste in women. He replaced the slutty and manipulative Messalina with his own niece, the equally slutty and manipulative Agrippina, who, in order to see her own son Nero made emperor, poisoned Claudius in A.D. 54.
Shaky, Drooling Dullard and Snot-Nosed Bastard
Claudius’s own mother referred to him as “a monster of a man, not finished but merely begun by Dame Nature.” According to the Roman biographer Suetonius, if she wanted to insult anyone’s intelligence, she would call the object of her contempt “a bigger fool than her son Claudius.” The future emperor suffered from an unknown childhood illness that left him with a pronounced limp. As if this weren’t enough, Suetonius tells us that Claudius “had many disagreeable traits . . . he would foam at the mouth and trickle at the nose; he stammered besides and his head was very shaky at times.”
48
NERO
Actor, Singer, Poet, Athlete, Matricidal
Mamma’s Boy
( A.D. 37–68)
Nero substituted as culprits, and punished with the utmost refinements of cruelty, a class of men, loathed for their vices, whom the crowd styled Christians. . . . And derision accompanied their end: they were covered with wild beasts’ skins and torn to death by dogs; or they were fastened on crosses, and when daylight failed were burned to serve as lamps by night.
—Tacitus, The Annals of Imperial Rome
Humanist, patron of the arts, actor, singer, poet, playwright, and athlete. That is how the Roman emperor Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus wished to be remembered. But he’s mostly remembered for fiddling while Rome burned.
He was first a political pawn of others (especially his monstrous mother), then an upstart who had said domineering mother murdered, and later an emperor who initiated the persecution of Christians (supposedly to cover up his own guilt in starting the enormous fire that gutted Rome in A.D. 64).
Nero was related to the line of emperors descended from Julius Caesar through his mother, Agrippina. One of the most ambitious and notorious stage mothers in history, Agrippina connived to marry her uncle, the reigning emperor Claudius (that dynastic inbreeding stuff again) in order to get Nero, her child by a previous marriage, in line for the throne.
Guided by such heavyweights as the Roman philosopher and playwright Seneca, Nero began his reign on a mostly positive note, in spite of his mother Agrippina’s seemingly insatiable lust for power. When he’d had enough of her trying to rule through him, Nero concocted a scheme wherein the boat in which she was travelling literally fell apart around her. When Agrippina proved more formidable than the sea, managing to reach the shore and from there her villa, Nero sent trusted soldiers to murder her in her bed. Her reported last words were “Strike here! This bore Nero!” while pointing at her womb.
&nb
sp; Fiddling Bastard
Everyone knows the story of how Nero fiddled while Rome burned. The germ of that story (and the notion that the emperor used Christians as scapegoats for the great fire that engulfed Rome in A.D. 64) comes from the Roman historian Tacitus: “For a rumor had spread that, while the city was burning, Nero had gone on his private stage and, comparing modern calamities with ancient, had sung the destruction of Troy.” To make matters worse, Nero seized a large chunk of the burned-out center of the city, where he erected a huge statute of himself as well as a sprawling, lavish new imperial residence dubbed the Domus Aureum (“Golden House”). When it was completed, Nero is said to have toured it, remarking, “At last a house fit for a human being to live in!” What he thought of those whom he’d dispossessed in order to build his golden house is not recorded.
From that point onward, there was no stopping the guy. As noted, Nero fancied himself quite the artist (reportedly saying, “What an artist dies with me!” on his deathbed). He acted on the stage, wrote and performed his own plays (a move that scandalized an ever-more-disenchanted Roman populace), and gave concerts wherein he played the lyre and sang. And heaven help you if you tried to leave one of these concerts early: several men who did were cut down by the Praetorian Guard for leaving the emperor’s presence without permission. Pregnant women were reported to have gone into labor and given birth during Nero’s performances!
The Book of Ancient Bastards Page 10
