CHAPTER 42

In an unprecedented move, selected representatives of the equestrian order and common citizens were invited to the Senate for Caligula’s inaugural speech. Because of my role in the treason trial of Apronius, I was one of the chosen ones who received an invitation.

I arrived early and found a spot in the back, against the wall, squeezed in with more than a hundred others. It was a good vantage point from which to watch the senators parade in. There was a lot of backslapping and hand shaking as they milled about waiting for Caligula’s arrival. The mood was much lighter than the last time I had been here.

Apronius came by and chatted with me. Marcus Lepidus greeted me as well. Crispinus, Mutilus, and Otho shot me a few threatening looks from the other side of the chamber, but I ignored them. The power had shifted like the sands of the Mediterranean. Nobody quite knew how it would shake out, but there was a general feeling that senators like Crispinus and his ilk would be on the outside looking in.

Cato eventually called the meeting to order, and the senators took their seats. All eyes turned toward the huge bronze doors in the back. The trumpets blared, the guards parted, and Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus entered the chamber.

The senators stood as one and burst into enthusiastic applause. Caligula walked down the center aisle, nodding at the men as he made his way to the front. He stopped for a few minutes at the polished marble floor where I had made my defense of Apronius. He glanced around and acknowledged the senators and equestrians he knew. He didn’t notice me in the back of the chamber. I didn’t expect him to.

He took his place between the two consuls on the dais, and I was struck by how calm he appeared. Cato seized his moment in the sun and introduced the new emperor with flowery oratory that would have made any normal man blush.

Caligula looked regal enough. His crisp white toga had a gold brooch on the shoulder, reflecting shafts of light from the high windows in the chamber. When he rose to speak, there was another round of thunderous applause. He basked in it for a while and then motioned for the senators to take their seats.

He began his speech by complimenting the senators and lauding the importance of their august body. Because of my training, I couldn’t resist the urge to grade his delivery. I found it to be somewhat pedestrian. He had the entire speech memorized, and it lacked spontaneity. His eyes darted this way and that, reflecting his nervousness. His hand motions were short and abrupt.

He promised to share power with the Senate in a way that Tiberius had not. Twice he referred to himself as their son. His pronouncements, though poorly delivered, were punctuated with standing ovations as even the senators who had looked skeptical at the start of his speech seemed to be warming to the young Caesar.

As he grew increasingly comfortable, his voice lowered half an octave and he became more animated. Caligula announced with great confidence that he was putting an end to the maiestas trials altogether. Applause broke out, but he spoke over it. All who had been exiled or imprisoned under Tiberius would regain their status and freedom immediately. All documents connected with the trials would be destroyed. Those trials were a disgraceful chapter in Rome’s history, and it was time to move on.

During this part of his speech, the applause grew louder with each sentence. By the time he announced his pardon for those who had been exiled, the senators were standing. When he declared that it was time to move forward, there was a sustained standing ovation inside the chamber, echoed by cheering in the streets outside. Even Crispinus, Otho, and Mutilus were standing and clapping, though they didn’t look happy about it.

By the time the applause died down and the senators took their seats, I was starting to think that maybe Caligula had changed from the self-centered and spoiled fourteen-year-old I had known. Whether he had or not, I could still breathe easier, less concerned about Crispinus’s threats of legal revenge.

Caligula next addressed the issue of Tiberius’s will. Even though the Senate had invalidated the will, Caligula decided to honor the bequest by Tiberius to grant each member of the Praetorian Guard one thousand sestertii. I glanced at the soldiers, and they were all smiles. Caligula promised that within a week they would be paid that bonus, which was roughly an entire year’s salary for each soldier.

And he didn’t stop there. Each member of the Roman police force and each firefighter would receive five hundred sestertii. Not only that, but every single citizen in the Roman Empire would receive three hundred.

Needless to say, the cheering was more boisterous than ever, and my ears rang from the sound. I clapped along but secretly wondered how much money Tiberius had left in the public treasury. Could Rome afford all of this benevolence?

Caligula next requested that the Senate consider granting Tiberius the same honors that Augustus Caesar had received after his death, including elevation to the status of a god and inclusion in the Roman Pantheon. This time, the senators held their applause.

I wondered if Caligula had anticipated that response. There could be no love lost between Caligula and the man who had killed his mother and brother. Perhaps Caligula wanted to make a request he knew the senators wouldn’t accept so that they would feel like they had already regained some of their authority. At the same time, Caligula could say that he had done everything possible to honor Tiberius but the Senate had overruled him.

It was clever. And it reminded me of the types of double-crossing Caligula had engaged in when we studied together under Seneca.

By the time he finished, I might have been the only person in Rome with mixed emotions about the new emperor. He announced that Tiberius would be given a proper burial, followed by one hundred straight days of chariot races, plays, and gladiator games. He had already begun making the arrangements for importing the exotic animals.

Caligula walked out of the Senate chamber to more deafening applause, and he was followed closely by senators now savoring the afterglow of his glory. By the time I filed out of the Senate, the emperor had been swallowed up by the wildly enthusiastic crowd. There was not a cloud in the sky as Caligula worked his way down the Forum.

“What do you think of our new emperor?” a voice behind me asked.

I turned to make sure that Seneca was alone before I answered. “I think I’d like to go back to Judea,” I said.

“Only if you take me with you.”