Evil Roman Emperors by Phillip Barlag

Author:Phillip Barlag
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: undefined
Publisher: Prometheus
Published: 2012-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

Perhaps if he’d spent a little more time developing his brain, he might have been a better general. However, he eschewed all intellectual efforts and focused instead on his physique. In this way, he broke with his hero, Alexander, who was insatiably curious about everything. With the absolute power of uncontested rule of the world’s most powerful empire in his hands, whether or not he meant to, Caracalla skipped the preferable example of Alexander for the loathsome one of Commodus. He exercised frequently, building up his body. He put himself through vigorous workouts, honing his strength at every opportunity.[38] We can almost imagine the obnoxious guy strutting around in the gym, trying to intimidate everyone he sees. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t getting much done. Like Commodus, Caracalla didn’t need to actually accomplish anything. He just needed to say he did. He broadcasted edicts to all corners of the empire proclaiming the runaway success of his administration.[39]

Actually being good mattered less than simply being able to say it was so. He was an accomplished propagandist. But, above all, Caracalla’s true craft was death. He relied on tried-and-true ways to off people. Still, to simply say the name “Geta” was to be dead on the spot. One unlucky victim was the son of the dead emperor Pertinax. He made a clever but, in retrospect, highly costly quip about Caracalla’s fratricide. It cost him his life. Father had deified and honored Pertinax. Son murdered Pertinax’s son.[40] He could be awfully unimaginative, tossing out simple death sentences wherever he went. But he also found interesting and novel ways to condemn people. For example, if a magistrate was in ill health, Caracalla would “promote” him to a foreign posting in a climate that would hasten his demise.[41]

Commodus came back to haunt Caracalla. Literally. In 213 CE, Caracalla grew ill. In his stupor, he was taunted by visions of his dead predecessor. Commodus paid him a delirium-induced visit, in which the dead emperor told Caracalla to prepare for judgment before the gods.[42] Around this same time, Caracalla seems to have become impotent.[43] He vented his fury—one could say impotent rage—in predictably awful ways. He accused some vestal virgins, the sacred virgin priestesses, of adultery and had them buried alive.[44] People entering brothels were killed, as were those accused of adultery or any sexual crimes.[45] These were not moral punishments. Their true crime was being able to, ahem, act on their sexual impulses, when Caracalla could not. To be “able,” when the emperor was not, was a death sentence.

Everything was a death sentence with this guy. People had to be very careful. Caracalla would tell his advisers and retainers to meet him before dawn, then keep them waiting all day.[46] They were stuck. He would go off, doing whatever he pleased, while the administrators of the Roman Empire sat on their hands, wondering if this guy would ever show up. If they gave up and left the meeting place, and Caracalla suddenly appeared and found them gone, well, you know by now what fate likely awaited them.

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