During the summer of 39 AD, one of the strangest construction projects in classical history
took shape along the north shore of the Bay of Naples.
From the resort town of Baiae to the bustling port of Puteoli, a distance of about three
miles, hundreds of boats were anchored in a double line.
The spaces between them were bridged with planks, their decks were packed with earth,
and a roadbed was laid on top, complete with fountains and wayside inns.
When the floating highway was ready, a young man appeared onshore.
He wore a spectacular gilded breastplate, stolen – it was said – from the tomb of
Alexander himself.
A cloak of cloth of gold spilled from his shoulders and over his caparisoned horse.
An oak leaf crown perched on his balding brow.
He paused a moment at the bridgehead; and then, cloak streaming, an army of praetorians
at his back, the emperor Caligula galloped onto the sea.
Ancient authors struggled to explain why Caligula had constructed his colossal bridge.
One speculated that he wished to demonstrate his power over the sea.
Another suggested that he was trying to intimidate the barbarians beyond the empire’s frontiers.
But the most popular explanation, then as now, was simple: the emperor was insane.
The brief reign of Caligula, the third Roman emperor, is one of the most notorious episodes
in ancient history.
The son of a famous and popular general, Caligula had been hailed as Rome’s savior when he
came to the throne at the age of 24.
But by the time he was assassinated, less than four years later, he had carved out a
reputation for tyranny and cruelty that would outlast the Roman Empire itself.
Caligula ruled with a dictatorial disdain for any power or prerogative besides his own.
Soon after becoming emperor, he reportedly told someone who dared to give him advice,
“Remember – I can do whatever I want.”
He showed particular contempt to the Roman aristocracy, making distinguished senators
hold his napkin at banquets or hitch up their togas and jog beside his chariot.
Eventually, he began to present himself as a living god, receiving the veneration of
his subjects from a throne flanked by statues of the divine twins Castor and Pollux.
His private life was equally unrestrained, as we’ll see after a brief word about this
video’s sponsor.
Established Titles offers certificates to small plots of land in Scotland, which – in
keeping with a historic Scottish custom – allow recipients to call themselves Lord or Lady.
If you’re so inclined, you can even change your name officially in certain documents.
I can attest to this, since I have a certificate informing all and sundry that I may style
myself Lord Garrett Ryan.
Each title pack gives you at least one square foot of land on a private estate in Eddleston,
Scotland, along with an official certificate featuring a unique plot number.
Since Established Titles plants a tree after every purchase and works with global charities
One Tree Planted and Trees for the Future, it’s a fun and novel way to preserve the
natural woodlands of Scotland while helping global reforestation efforts.
As an additional perk, the first 200 people who purchase a title pack with my link will
be granted plots quite close to mine, and join the Toldinstone kingdom.
Established Titles makes a great last-minute gift, so take advantage of the massive Black
Friday sale going on now, head to establishedtitles.com/toldinstone, and use the code TOLDINSTONE for an additional
10% off.
Back to the crimes of Caligula.
The emperor bathed in perfumed oil, dissolved pearls in his drinks, and gilded the foods
served at his banquets.
On Lake Nemi, just outside Rome, he ordered the construction of two magnificent luxury
barges.
When their remains were uncovered in the early twentieth century, archaeologists found traces
of heated marble floors, rotating statue platforms, and pumps for hot and cold water baths.
Caligula’s casual disregard for human life was legendary.
Once, when the price of meat was high, he fed prisoners to the lions and bears scheduled
to appear in the arena.
He executed scores of political opponents, sometimes forcing parents to witness the deaths
of their sons.
He burned a man alive for writing a poem that poked fun at his regime, beat slaves to death
with chains, and had prisoners bled dry with dozens of tiny cuts.
The emperor’s eccentricities were even more notorious than his cruelty.
He especially liked to dress as one of the gods, and could be seen sauntering about with
the trident of Neptune, the caduceus of Mercury, or the golden beard and thunderbolt of Jupiter.
His belief in his own divinity was so strong that he was said to stand at windows after
dark, calling the moon goddess down to his bed.
Once, in the middle of the night, Caligula summoned three senators to the palace.
As they stood in the audience hall, sure that they were about to be executed, the emperor
emerged in a flowing tunic, performed a dance to the tune of flutes and cymbals, and flitted
from the room without saying a word.
Once Caligula was safely dead, historians of his reign agreed that he had been mad.
Some speculated that a fever had been the cause.
Others blamed a love potion administered by his wife.
Still others thought that his madness stemmed from innate character flaws.
Representations of the emperor in pop culture – most famously, the movie Caligula and
the BBC series I, Claudius – have taken their lead from the ancient sources, and presented
the emperor as insane.
A surge of interest over the past decade has inspired a mini-series on Netflix, some impressively
bloody comic books, and a progressive metal band called Caligula's Horse, all of which
reference the emperor’s supposed madness.
As so often, however, the historical truth is less straightforward.
Any assessment of Caligula’s mental condition has to begin with his political position.
For the first few centuries of its existence, the Roman Empire was a military autocracy
masquerading, ever less convincingly, as a republic.
Emperors were expected to at least gesture toward including the traditional ruling class
in important decisions.
That fiction, transparent though it was, continued to be important: it mattered whether the aristocracy
felt respected, not least because aristocrats tended to write the histories.
Caligula, who ignored the compromises underpinning his power, was never destined to be remembered
fondly by senatorial historians.
That legacy was guaranteed by his assassination.
His successor Claudius had to distance himself from the murdered emperor without condemning
the imperial power he had inherited.
He did this by labelling Caligula a tyrant.
Historians working under his reign followed the court’s lead.
Their accounts should be read with corresponding caution.
Take, for example, the allegation – repeated by several of our sources – that Caligula
was involved in an incestuous relationship with his sister Drusilla.
Suetonius’ biography lists the evidence, which boils down to a rumor that the emperor’s
grandmother had caught him in flagrante, the favor he showed Drusilla during his reign,
and his grief when she died.
This is less than compelling, especially when combined with the fact that several other
ancient authors fail to make any mention of Caligula’s relations with his relations.
The most notorious instance of the emperor’s supposed madness is equally suspect.
That Caligula made his horse consul is a staple of pop history.
Suetonius, however, makes it clear that he never actually did this, but was only rumored
to have considered it.
He was certainly fond of racing in general and of his horse Incitatus in particular,
going so far as to build a palatial stable with marble stalls and ivory mangers.
But the rumor that Caligula planned to appoint Incitatus consul seems to have originated
from nothing more than one of the emperor’s sardonic puns.
Explanations can be posited for the most outlandish of Caligula’s exploits.
Sometime in the spring of 40 AD, for example, the emperor led a large army to the English
Channel.
If we can believe our sources, he drew his forces up in full battle array, then ordered
the troops to gather shells from the beach, as spoils of their victory over the Ocean.
This puzzling episode has generated dozens of interpretations.
Some – such as the theory that Caligula wanted his soldiers to use the shells as missiles
in their military exercises – are unlikely.
But others are plausible: since the Latin word for “shell” can also mean “boat”
or “hut,” for example, some commentators see Caligula’s command as an order to gather
an invasion fleet or break camp.
Perhaps the most likely explanation is that Caligula really did order his soldiers to
gather shells – not from some megalomaniacal delusion, but as part of a ceremony centered
on the surrender of a British king.
Even the colossal floating bridge at Baiae likely had a symbolic purpose.
Caligula crossed it twice – first at the head of an army in full array, then in a chariot
followed by wagons of treasure.
Both crossings were clearly pageants, borrowing motifs from history and ritual to imitate
– respectively – a battlefield charge and a triumph.
Although the precise significance is uncertain, the basic meaning of both processions and
bridge is clear: they were nothing more or less than statements of imperial power.
For all their silences and distortions, our sources present a basically coherent portrait
or caricature of Caligula.
To the extent that this picture was drawn from life – as we must assume it was, if
only in outline – we can glimpse the historical Caligula.
Our sources show, or seem to show, a strange and unsettling figure, witty, even charming,
capable of statesmanship, but untroubled by the slightest sense of moral responsibility.
Caligula was erratic, eccentric, megalomaniacal, and murderous.
But there is no reason to assume that he was insane.
For more on Caligula, follow the link onscreen to my tour of Baiae, where one side of the
famous floating bridge was anchored.
Follow the link in the upper righthand corner to visit Toldinstone Footnotes, where you’ll
find my podcast, livestreams, and much more.
Please consider supporting my channels on Patreon.
You might also enjoy my book, Naked Statues, Fat Gladiators, and War Elephants.
Thanks for watching.