Roadies For Nero: An Epilogue
26:28 Share

Hello, and welcome to Conflicted. As always, I'm your host, Zach Cornwell.

Today, we're going to be doing something a little different. This will not be a full episode, as you've probably noticed from the much shorter timestamp. No, this is actually going to be a bonus episode to accompany our 10th full episode, King Breakers. This is part of a larger bonus series I'd like to start doing moving forward whenever time allows or inspiration strikes. And the idea came from the fact that when I'm writing scripts for the full episodes, there's

There's usually tons and tons of really great stuff I have to leave on the cutting room floor in the service of brevity and narrative cohesion. Things that were super interesting or entertaining, but were also kind of extraneous to the story or felt like self-indulgent tangents. Well, this new bonus series, which I'm calling Epilogues, is all about the tangents. Today's episode is a continuation of our episode about the Praetorian Guard and their messed up relationship with the emperors of Rome.

In King Breakers, we talked about Augustus and how he founded the Praetorians as an institution, we talked about Tiberius and how he almost had the throne stolen from him by his scheming Praetorian prefect Sejanus, and then we talked about the insanity of Caligula's reign and the conspiracy that finally succeeded in bringing him down. We also gave a passing nod to the black sheep Claudius and how the Senate and the Praetorians elevated him to the throne after his nephew Caligula's assassination.

And that seemed like a pretty good place to end things, especially through the lens of the Praetorian Guard. But then it started to bug me. You know, we charted the course of Rome's first four emperors, but we didn't get to talk about the fifth, Nero. Now, Nero is arguably one of Rome's most famous and controversial rulers. He's the one behind the fiddling while Rome burned anecdote, if you're not familiar.

And for our purposes, he had a very interesting, very musical relationship with the Praetorian Guard. So in our inaugural bonus episode, we're going to spend a little time with Rome's favorite wannabe rock star, the Emperor Nero, as well as his bodyguards-turned-roadies, the deadly Praetorians.

Needless to say, if you haven't listened to episode 10, King Breakers, I would recommend you do that before diving into this one. There won't be a whole lot of hand-holding or recapping in this, these are meant to be pretty lean and mean. So with that being said, welcome to our first conflicted epilogue, Roadies for Nero.

I'm Ken Harbaugh, host of Burn the Boats from Evergreen Podcasts. I interview political leaders and influencers, folks like award-winning journalist Soledad O'Brien and conservative columnist Bill Kristol about the choices they confront when failure is not an option.

I won't agree with everyone I talk to, but I respect anyone who believes in something enough to risk everything for it. Because history belongs to those willing to burn the boats. Episodes are out every other week, wherever you get your podcasts. Our drama begins, as most dramas do, with the opening of a curtain.

While the freshly assassinated Emperor Caligula's body was lying in bloody pieces on a bathhouse floor, his uncle Claudius was playing the most high-stakes game of hide-and-seek in ancient history. Claudius was scared. He could hear the shouts and the screams, the clinking swords and the slap of sandals from his hiding spot, and he was shaking, trembling behind a curtain, trying not to make any noise, trying not to breathe.

When the insane tyrant Caligula had been cut to pieces by members of his own elite bodyguard, led by the high voice and higher ideals of Cassius Correa, Claudius had seen it from a distance, from the other end of the long hallway in which the Praetorian assassins had cornered the Emperor. And Claudius knew, without a doubt, that he was next.

He was related by blood to the dead emperor. The Praetorians would soon kill Caligula's wife and his infant daughter, and if they'd kill a baby to extinguish that bloodline, they would have no problem killing the crippled, middle-aged black sheep of the imperial clan.

Claudius was understandably terrified, and he was panicking, so he hides behind a curtain. But he forgot one important detail when choosing the hiding spot. The curtain did not reach all the way to the floor. His feet were sticking out. And suddenly, a Praetorian guardsman who was prowling the palace grounds yanks open the curtain. Claudius knows he's about to die. This is it.

But, according to legend, instead of killing him, the Praetorian extends his hand and says, quote, my lord, let go of thoughts of saving yourself. Come with me and accept the throne of your ancestors, end quote. Now, that very foreshadowy bit of theater probably never happened, at least not in that way. But whatever the case, Claudius was going to take the throne of his ancestors and become the fourth emperor of Rome after Caligula.

It all happens really fast. The Praetorian Guard takes Claudius back to their fortress, Caligula's assassins are ostracized and executed, and within 48 hours, Claudius is hailed as emperor. Now, our story, obviously, is not about Claudius. And I apologize if any Claudius fans feel I've given him the short shrift, but he is an important piece of connective tissue to Nero. So I wanted to give him his brief moment in The Metaphorical Sun.

But how do we go from Claudius, the fourth emperor, to Nero, the fifth emperor? Well, Nero rises to power chiefly through the efforts of his mother, a woman named Agrippina. And Agrippina would prove to be one of the most incredible stage moms in the ancient world. So, who is she? Well, Agrippina was Caligula's youngest sister. Yes, one of those sisters.

Now, you'd think that being closely related to the insane tyrant Caligula would be an automatic death sentence. But like Claudius, Agrippina managed to escape the long knives of the Praetorian Guard. Caligula's wife and baby daughter would be the only members of his family who shared his fate. And Agrippina was safer than ever, now that her uncle Claudius was the new emperor. With her safety ensured, Agrippina could focus on raising her eleven-year-old son.

a boy named Nero. Nero was a precocious little tyke who had a ceaseless fascination with entertainment and the arts. He loved chariot racing, wrestling, and dancing, but most of all, he loved music. He was a good singer, even the hostile sources acknowledge his talent, and he dedicated hours and hours into learning how to play a type of stringed instrument called the lyre.

It's hard not to imagine teenage Nero plucking away at this thing in his bedroom, trying to learn the ancient equivalent of Stairway to Heaven. All those hours fantasizing about driving chariots around the Circus Maximus or playing to crowds in a Roman theater must have been a welcome distraction from the scheming adults and petty politicking in the Roman imperial court.

The teenage Nero was developing into a talented musician and a self-described artist, but his mother, Agrippina, had different plans. She was grooming him not for the stage, but for the throne. Claudius, the crippled but surprisingly capable emperor, took Agrippina as his wife. And yes, for those doing the math at home, she did in fact marry her uncle. Now, this was just as scandalous in the Roman world as it would be in ours.

The Roman public thought this was gross, and Claudius even had to convince the Senate to pass a special law allowing it. The average Roman citizen might have been skeeved out, but Agrippina was perfectly fine with her new marital situation and all the responsibilities it entailed, because it meant that her son Nero was all but assured to be the heir to the throne, and Claudius officially adopted the kid when he was just 12 years old.

There is no doubt that Agrippina was an amazing woman. She was clever and charming and just as ambitious as any man in Rome. But she reminds me a lot of stage parents you might see in the entertainment industry. You know the type, the people who selfishly push their kids into something they don't really want for their own profit and power.

To Agrippina, Nero was more than a son, he was a meal ticket. So a few years go by and when Nero is 17 years old, his adopted uncle-dad, Claudius, dies mysteriously. Like I mentioned in King Breakers, anytime something like this happens, people immediately suspect foul play. And all fingers pointed to Agrippina. But she planned for this eventuality.

She'd spent years wheeling and dealing, making friends and greasing palms within the Praetorian Guard. So when Claudius drops dead under mysterious circumstances, the Praetorians immediately throw their support behind Nero and he becomes the fifth emperor of Rome. In that moment, the curtain had closed on Claudius and opened on a young, flamboyant 17-year-old who desperately craved the spotlight.

Agrippina had succeeded in elevating her son to the throne, and now she aimed to be the power behind it. If we were making lazy pop culture comparisons, which I totally am, Agrippina bears more than a passing resemblance to Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones. Think about it, you've got incest, check. Overbearing mother, check. Aspiring authoritarian who outplays all the men around her, check.

Agrippina had designs to be the supreme power in Rome, a true empress. But that could never happen. Like, ever. Rome's political ecosystem was mind-bogglingly sexist. Elected or symbolic office was an impossibility. But the women of Rome exerted influence in other ways. If they could control and manipulate the men around them, they could achieve some semblance of self-determination.

Agrippina's sway over the court was so absolute that she even got her own personal contingent of the Praetorian Guard who protected her day and night, which was unique for her position. She was an empress in all but name.

But all of this power was dependent on her ability to maintain unrivaled influence over her son, the emperor. She needed to keep him like a bird in a gilded cage, and as long as she could control her sweet baby boy, Agrippina was the most powerful woman in the Roman Empire. Well, Nero did not want to be controlled. Ask any teenager if they want to have every facet of their life controlled by their mom.

He must have been constantly rolling his eyes at the fact that his watchword, or passcode for his Praetorian guard, was Optima Mater, which is Latin for number one mom. Nero was an extremely passionate, talented young man, but he was also vain and petty and prone to jealousy. One of the objects of his jealousy was a young woman named Papeia Sabina.

Poppea was the Instagram influencer of her day. Beautiful, glamorous, and famous. Her beauty was so well known that she even had a brand of Roman cosmetics named after her during her lifetime. Well, the vapid, possessive Nero became obsessed with this ancient influencer, Poppea. Everything about her fascinated him, especially the fact that she was forbidden fruit. Because Poppea was already married.

And not only that, she was married to the captain of Nero's Praetorian Guard. And by this time, Nero was married too. His mom had picked out a sensible, suitable bride for him already. But nothing about Nero was sensible or suitable, so he and Papea do the responsible thing and start having a hot and heavy affair. Nero's mother, Agrippina, was not happy about this at all.

An emperor with an unstable, politically dangerous love life meant an unstable, politically dangerous emperor. Agrippina's relationship with her son took a nosedive, and the two bickered constantly over his behavior. Nero felt stifled by his mother, trapped by her, and he quickly began to resent her with the utmost intensity. Agrippina should have been very worried when Nero stripped her Praetorian escort from her,

Without them, her physical safety was in jeopardy all the time. And whether she knew it or not, her days were numbered. Supposedly, Nero's mistress, Poppaea, convinces him that he would never be free to evolve into the superstar that he truly was until his domineering mother was in the ground. Nero agrees and decides he was not willing to wait for nature to take its course. So he commands the Praetorian Guard to assassinate his mother, Agrippina.

But they tell him, no way. They flat out refuse. So deep was the respect for this woman that even the Praetorian Guard wouldn't touch her. Unfazed, Nero turns to a friend in the Roman Navy. Together, they hatch a plan to sabotage a ship that Agrippina would be traveling on.

The ship would be rigged to collapse and sink once it was out in open water. And when the day comes, it works like a charm. But no one counted on Agrippina being a very good swimmer, and she actually makes it to shore. Nero initially panics. If Agrippina realized that Nero had tried to have her killed, her revenge would be swift and ruinous.

But Nero has a plan B. He sends ordinary soldiers, not Praetorians, to kill her. And they succeed where the elaborate collapsible ship did not. The Senate was outraged by Agrippina's death, but Nero insisted that she'd been planning to have him killed, and that he was therefore justified in ordering her death.

Finally unshackled from his powerful, controlling mother, Nero was free to do what he really wanted. To shine bright like the star he truly was. In his book, Ten Caesars, historian Barry Strauss describes Emperor Nero as, quote, a genius in public relations, a communications giant, end quote. He was an entertainer to his very core, and the Roman public loved to be entertained.

Over the next several years, Nero throws a series of lavish public games with all the staples of Roman entertainment. Gladiator fights, chariot racing, wrestling, theater, you name it. And these festivals and games became so linked with Nero that they became known as the Neronia. Nero even gave gifts away to the audience, really expensive stuff.

As Strauss writes, quote, "...the audience received gifts, often extravagant gifts, including jewels, horses, slaves, and houses, making Nero at least the equal of any modern television game show host." End quote. But Nero wasn't content to be just a spectator. In a move that horrified the Roman elite and delighted the plebs, Nero actually participated in the games.

He raced chariots around the Circus Maximus for crowds of as large as 200,000. For perspective, that's more people than modern Super Bowls can manage to pack in. And it's not like this was just hollow propaganda.

Chariot racing was a dangerous, life-threatening sport that required real skill, and unlucky charioteers died all the time on the tracks. Basically, imagine NASCAR with a heavy dose of Mad Max Fury Road. But Nero got off on this. He was most certainly an adrenaline junkie. And as for his protectors, the Praetorian Guard, they just had to sit tight and shrug it off.

They could protect Nero from plots and backstabbing rivals, but an overturned chariot or a horse kick to the face would leave them unemployed in a matter of seconds. Like the rest of Rome, all they could do was watch. Despite his daredevil antics, Nero also had a softer side.

He performed as an actor, a poet, a singer, and a ballet dancer in giant amphitheaters for screaming crowds. In fact, he was the very first Roman emperor to do this, although Caligula had flirted with the idea during his reign. But it's worth noting, unlike our own Hollywood-obsessed society, actors were not esteemed in Roman times. Entertainers occupied the bottom rung of society, and it was considered a low and vulgar profession.

But Nero was ahead of his time, and he knew the best way to amplify the implicit celebrity of being emperor was to pair it with the sleaziness of the spotlight. And as for the Praetorians, they were obliged to play a unique role in all of this showmanship.

They carried Nero's lyre and other instruments to the venues like glorified rhodes, and they even packed the crowds with people who were paid to cheer especially loud when Nero took the stage. If you did not show an appropriate amount of enthusiasm for the emperor's performances, or maybe mentioned that this or that note was falling a little flat, well, maybe you'd find yourself re-evaluating your own musical taste at a Praetorian black site.

It wasn't all bread and circuses under Nero, though. As generous and artistic as he was, he also had a very bad, often murderous temper. Just like Tiberius and Caligula, Nero had men put to death for even the slightest provocation. He poisoned rivals at his own dinner table and acted shocked when they dropped face down in their plates. It was a dramatic performance that rarely resulted in applause.

But a big turning point for Nero, at least in his personal life, came a few years into his marriage to Papea, the cosmetics queen that his mother Agrippina had despised and Nero had lusted after so intensely. By this point, Papea was pregnant with Nero's child. Well, one night the two got into an argument. No one knows what it was about or what was said, but Nero gets more revved up than usual, and he kicks his pregnant wife in anger.

Whatever he did, it was bad. Her internal injuries were so devastating that she had a miscarriage and died. As Barry Strauss writes, quote, It was said that she had prayed to die young, before she lost her good looks, and so she got her wish. End quote. Papea was the second important woman in his life who Nero had murdered.

First his own mother, then his wife. But the most controversial and legacy-defining event of Nero's reign came in the summer of 64 AD. If you were specifically designing a city to suffer the maximum amount of damage in the event of a sudden, out-of-control fire, Rome would have been a perfect specimen. Narrow streets, packed apartment blocks, and very few wide-open spaces to slow down the spread of flames.

It was a miracle that it hadn't burned down already. Well, on the night of July 18th, 64 AD, a fire starts in Rome. And it grows and grows and grows, and it sweeps over all but four of the city's 14 districts, burning non-stop for six days. In less than a week, huge parts of the Eternal City had been reduced to ashes. When a disaster like this happens, lots of angry eyes turn towards the people in charge.

This was going to be the greatest public relations challenge of Nero's life. He cuts food prices to alleviate hunger and organizes temporary shelters, but the Roman people were deeply suspicious of Nero and whether he had played any part in starting the fire. Nero's ego was notoriously gargantuan, and there were rumors that he had deliberately started the fire to clear the way for a new city, one that he could name after himself.

The bitterness towards Nero was further intensified by rumors that during the fire, instead of organizing relief efforts, he had retreated to his private stage to sing and play the lyre while watching the flames. This is the source of the fiddling while Rome burns phrase.

But all of this was mostly gossip, and Nero seems to have mustered a reasonable response to the disaster. He wasn't even in Rome when the fire started. He only returned when he heard reports it was getting a little too close to his palace. Whatever really happened, Nero's public image never recovers from this great fire of Rome. Not long after, Nero gets intelligence reports of a major plot forming against him, another partnership between the Senate and a faction within the Praetorian Guard.

But Nero was determined not to suffer the same fate as his insane uncle Caligula. He crushes the conspiracy in the crib, and as it turned out, 41 people were implicated in the plot, senators and senior officers of the Praetorian Guard. He had the traitors tortured and executed, and when he asked one Praetorian point-blank why they had tried to remove him, the man replied, "...no soldier was more loyal to you than I, while you deserve to be loved."

I began to hate you when you became the murderer of your mother and your wife, a charioteer, an actor, and an arsonist. End quote. From that point on, things get worse and worse for Nero. Rebellions spring up all over the empire, and his power base in Rome shrinks to almost nothing. The audience had finally turned against him, and Nero the showman could not get them back on his side.

In his final years, Nero really seems to have gone off the deep end, and he just completely retreats into fantasy. One of his more outrageous stunts involved a young man who Nero thought looked very similar to his dead wife, Papea. So similar that he ordered him to start dressing like her. And then he had the young man castrated and married him in a mock ceremony. No one knew if this was a sad, brutal joke or a sign of actual insanity, but at this point, it didn't matter.

Nero was done. On June 9th, AD 68, the Senate declared Nero an enemy of the state, and the Praetorian Guard abandoned him. He begged a few of them to come with him as he fled into hiding, and one just shook his head at Nero's pathetic request and asked, quote, is it so dreadful to die? End quote. Nero, alone, disgraced and abandoned, fled the city.

Realizing that he was out of options and that the Praetorian Guard, now controlled by the Senate, would soon be hot on his heels, he decided to commit suicide. Before he pushed a dagger into his own throat, Nero was supposed to have said, quote, what an artist perishes in me, end quote.

Nero was the fifth and final Roman emperor to be descended from Julius Caesar. After his death, the empire fell into yet another civil war, which resulted in an entirely new ruling family. But the Praetorian Guard would survive all of this upheaval. It would outlive many more emperors, good, bad, and insane, until finally confronting its own bloody climax 250 years later at the Battle of the Milbian Bridge.

The Praetorians had been a massively destabilizing force since their inception, and many historians believe that their constantly shifting loyalty was a major cause in the eventual destruction of the Roman Empire. As historian Edward Gibbon wrote, the Praetorian Guard possessed, quote, a licentious fury, making them the first symptom and cause of the decline of the Roman Empire. This has been a conflicted epilogue. Thanks for listening.

Hello, this is Gary Chahot welcoming you to check out the French History Podcast. Our main show covers the history of France from the first humans until present. If you liked Mike Duncan's The History of Rome and wanted a similar program covering the land of beauty, culture, and love, we are exactly that.

We also host world-renowned scholars who have delivered guest episodes on their specialties, including 18th century pirates, revolutionary booksellers in 20th century Paris, the special friendship between the Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson, and numerous others. Learn what you love and listen to the French History Podcast today.